Sports
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| Oliver Weidmann/DPP |
Chausson railing a trail in Digne, France 2000
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12. Anne-Caroline Chausson
MOUNTAIN-BIKE RACER
Age: 24 Specs: 5-foot-6, 120 pounds
Home: Dijon, France
THE CASE: Simply put, there has never been a more dominant mountain biker.Chausson has claimed every downhill world championship since 1996. She's won 70 percent of the World Cup races held since then, often crushing the field by obscene margins, deftly avoiding the flat tires and catastrophic crashes that routinely keep contenders from even crossing the
line. She cruises through knots of root and rock that force others to dismount, flies over head-high drops that cause opponents to jam on their disc brakes, and does it all with an unsettling air of supremely confident indifference. Perhaps that's because she started racing BMX bikes when she was six, thus hardwiring her untouchable piloting skills. Then
again, maybe it's just that she's French.
SECOND OPINION: "The difference between her and the other women is that she's not using the front of her brain when she races," says American downhiller Marla Streb. "She's just not afraid."
MOST HARROWING MOMENT: Sliding out on her Ducati motorcycle in Dijon last year. "I didn't get hurt," says Chausson, "but it was more scary than anything that's ever happened to me on a mountain bike."
WHAT'S NEXT: Finding a new team—Volvo/Cannondale is considering dropping its downhill program—and, in the immediate future, skiing. "I love big powder. I think now I will begin to jump some cliffs." —Nick Heil
13. Scott Lindgren
EXPEDITION KAYAKER
Age: 28 Specs: 5-foot-11, 155 pounds
Home: Auburn, California
THE CASE: There's a handful of paddlers who can run the big-river first descents that Lindgren relishes, and there's a handful of filmmakers who can capture the shots he does, but no one else can do both time after time and still manage to come back alive. The Rocklin, California, native, who began paddling at 19, has marshaled countless remote river
expeditions—Nepal's Thule Bheri and Tibet's upper Karnali, to name a couple—in which he navigates raging gorges studded with Class V-plus drops in a heavily laden kayak, wearing an awkward head camera. His company, Scott Lindgren Productions, is known for making videos (Flood 2: The Last Drop, Thirst) and films that defy belief, even among
grizzled whitewater paddlers. "When I discovered kayaking, it was a release I hadn't found in other sports," says Lindgren. "It was never about being a high-profile athlete; it is strictly about going out and finding the deepest, hardest rivers."
SECOND OPINION: "There are a lot of good extreme paddlers, but Scott can predict water flows like no one else I know," says fellow first-descenter Clay Wright. "When you go on an expedition with Scott, you know it will be dialed."
MOST HARROWING MOMENT: "Trying to get me to talk about my most harrowing moment," sniffs Lindgren, "is like trying to take spinach away from Popeye."
WHAT'S NEXT: A three-week voyage on the White Nile in Uganda and the wrap of Liquid Cubed, a film about his surf kayaking exploits in Indonesia. —Jonathan Hanson
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| John Goodman |
Doug Swingley with Cola, his four-year-old lead Alaskan Husky, September 2000
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14. Doug Swingley
DOGSLED RACER
Age: 47 Specs: 5-foot-11, 160 pounds
Home: Lincoln, Montana
THE CASE: Owner, manager, friend, racer, and trainer of the fastest dogs alive, Swingley wears down opponents by charging from the gun; where most mushers cautiously modulate speed throughout a race with a foot brake, Swingley just lets 'em rip, convincing his dogs that long hills are a treat. The former mink rancher, who still trains his dogs in
Montana, didn't start racing until he was 36, but he quickly made up for lost time. In his third Iditarod, in 1995, Swingley posted the first sub-ten-day time, thus becoming the first non-Alaskan to win the grueling 1,100-mile marathon. After finishing second in '96 and '97, he reclaimed the crown in 1999 and smoked the pack again in 2000, breaking his '95
record by nearly two hours.
SECOND OPINION: "Every year Doug's won the Iditarod, he's usually stayed one checkpoint ahead of the other mushers," says 1989 winner Joe Runyan. "He pushes it a little bit every year."
MOST HARROWING MOMENT: Beginning the 1999 Iditarod by breaking two ribs. "We took a 90-degree corner, and as I went down with the sled my chest was driven into a battery pack," says Swingley. How'd he manage a victory? "A lot of Aleve."
WHAT'S NEXT: Come this March, he'll aim the dogs straight for Nome, Alaska, the Iditarod's finish line, and a possible fourth victory. —Bruce Barcott
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