Gran Prix d’Inverno XC Torre Canavese: weatherproof gear, but what about us?

What is weatherproof (or weather sealed) anyway?

How far can I go with my gear in bad weather? That’s everybody’s question when conditions are not friendly. This is mainly because cameras have a “weatherproof” build, but this is a very vague mark. It is not an IP certification: as far as I know, only Leica and Olympus offer this on some recent model: IP52 for Leica Q2, IP53 for OM system OM-1, which means dustproof and water-sealed for spray at 60 degrees.

As for me, neither Em1mkII nor Em1mkIII provide this IP ranking. Yet they are known to be very well built and weathersealed, just a tad less than the Em1X.

It already happened to shoot in hard conditions in a few occasions: last September, during 150s-miles gravel event, it poured rain for 2hrs in the morning and 4hrs in the afternoon, and I had my mkIII in the Evoc capture, both soaked. No problem whatsoever, except the inevitable condensation.

Also, in 2022, I shot the swim start of an Ironman, and I had the MkII a few inches over the sea; I was close enough to people to be completely wet; in this case, the camera probably lost its Wi-fi capabilities (although I have no proof of direct cause/effect). 10.000 people rushing into the sea near you can do that, I suppose.

XC Torre Canavese “Grand Prix d’inverno: a different bad weather

Last weekend was different – a totally different story. The XC weekend in Torre Canavese, first stage of many national categories, took place in the worst condition I ever experienced, simply because we worked a whole day in pouring rain, with almost no breaks. Harsh conditions to ride, and a great test for the cameras, for sure.

The job was great: shooting freely to tell the story of the weekend, its mood, its highlights and the overall context. A great liberty to enjoy. Races were plenty, since many categories were racing 1-hour stage (meaning 3 to 4 laps depending on the category) all day long.

Saturday: bad, but not too bad.

On the first race day, the sky was dark, but the rain was intermittent. Never too heavy, and some precious breaks allowed to dry the gear and have some rest. As the pictures show, the terrain absorbed most of the water. Not a very hard day.

Sunday: bad, very bad.

Luckily enough, my friend Luigi – also a passionate bikepacker and photographer with whom we recently explored Alpe Bianca – asked me to come along to improve his skills in cycling photography. I’m always glad to have company, but this specific day it was relieving to share the burden with a friend. The weather forecast was bad, so we were ready (or we thought we were).

Around 8, under moderate rain, we met the organizers at the start. First news of the day: no athlete was test-riding on the track, because of the heavy rain. So we prepared for the first race: after some quick shot at the start, we ran to our spots in the Discesa del Cinghiale – the steepest downhill, a few hairpins in the woods with a techy single track. The cameras had 12-40 2.8 and 40-150 2.8. While saturday I could change lenses, using the 7-14 for some shots, on sunday changing lenses in these conditions was not an option; there was no shelter within a kilometer, so we kept the initial setup. Even replacing batteries (which was necessary around 1pm) was tricky. Second news of the day: all races would be shortened by one lap, since the mud was considerably slowing down all the riders.

Only the most skilled riders were able to ride the whole Cinghiale downhill, while most of them had to walk/slide down by it, and some fell on the hairpins. Luigi and I both stayed along this section to work the scene and get the most out of it. After the race ended, we decided to stay more or less in the same spots. I put my cameras in my backpack, to give them some break from the rain.

My colleague did not: when the second race started, 15 min later, his focus/shutter button didn’t work. He went back in town to solve it while I shot three more laps before joining him.

It seemed that water had infiltrated the button, and his camera – Fuji Xt2: “water resistant”, but not weatherproof – was unable to operate. So I lent him my Em1mkIII with the long zoom, 40-150 f2.8 PRO. Meanwhile, my waterproof jacket was beginning to cave in. No worries, I had 2 more waterproof layers!

Midday races were really wet. The girls raced in grueling conditions, while the terrain became more and more unpredictable and large pools formed in the flat sections. My second layer gave up, and my friend -as wet as me – kept shooting with my EM1, mostly at the finish, to capture the third half. We wanted to get lots of hugs, stretching, kisses, and fatigue. meanwhile, water started to seep in my waterproof backpack and my last layer of clothes.

The last two races were the most awaited, but also the most… submerged from start to finish. During the first one, Luigi stayed at the coffee shop trying to resuscitate his Fuji. I went exploring the first part of the track: on paper, it seemed less interesting to shoot, and walking down the route in the opposite direction of the race, I confirmed the first impression. I went back to the finish/start just in time for the last race, starting at 15.30. Cameras were drowning, but working just fine.

The minutes before the start, when riders take place in the grid, seemed endless. Young riders were uselessly covered by umbrellas, but the water came from everywhere. The judges completed the operations as fast as they could. Luigi – who took these pictures of me as well- came back and shooted once more with the EM1: the day was almost over, we were now completely wet, so there was no point in staying indoor.

Eventually, the race started, and we ran once more to the Cinghiali section, where a few riders fell on the slippery rocks (without serious consequences, except a broken rib). After the first lap (out of 3) we went down along the route, taking some panning shots in the final straight section. We wanted to be close to the finish line.

What about the cameras?

After midday, the front lenses were accumulating condensation, and it became harder and harder to clean them. This is why pictures of the last races have haloes on the lighter parts, or visible water drops.

Of course, the glasses was permanently wet, and trying to keep it dry was pointless. The 40-150, with its big hood, was somewhat protected, but sprays of mud entered anyway when I shooted close pics of the riders. The 12-40 was without hood, and it was wet accordingly.

Besides this, I had a minor issue with the Em1 II, which is older (100.000 shots and 3.5 years): in the last hour or so, the tilt screen was black, as if water had reached the junction. Therefore, I could shoot only through the viewfinder.

This was the only real problem I had. Of course, camera were slippery because of the water, but the worked properly all day long. At home, I simply dried them near a warm source (there were spots of water even in the battery slot of the mkIII, probably because of when I replaced the battery) and everything came back to normal, even the MkII tilt screen.

So, is there a lesson to learn here ?

First, it’s crucial to choose the right gear and to trust it. Second, in for a penny, in for a pound. Kids were racing there, people were gathering along the track: so why shouldn’t we work normally? Moreover, most of the times, bad conditions help create good pictures, so it’s not the moment for taking care of your gear.


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