DO THE RIDERS TAKE THE PODIUM GIRLS BACK TO THEIR HOTELS?
Unlikely. Mostly, the biggest challenge on the Tour is not the riding, but recovering enough to do it again the next day, so the riders will tend to finish the stage, cram in recovery drinks and a small meal, have their daily massage and rest up before dinner, a team strategy session and a quick chat with the mechanics to set the bikes up for the next day’s stage. So no, no time or energy for the podium girls. Maybe in Paris, but not before.

WHY DON’T THE STRONGEST RIDERS JUST ATTACK AT THE START OF THE STAGE?
Some do – Jacky Durand made a career of this, and Piil and Voigt tried to emulate him in 2004, but a solo rider is about 30% less efficient than a rider sheltering in the peloton, so it may work once or twice, but to get up the next day and do it again is just too tiring. The winner of the Tour will manage his energy by sitting in the pack when he can, and only going flatout when it will gain him the most.

WHY DOESN’T THE TEAM LEADER CHASE EVERY ATTACK?
He will only chase attacks by riders who have potential to finish high up in the General Classification (GC). The riders and their managers will know the exact composition of every break, and who the highest-placed rider in it is, and only chase if necessary.

WHAT HAPPENS IF THE YELLOW JERSEY CRASHES OR PUNCTURES?
Generally, if a contender is the victim of bad luck, rather than poor judgement, preparation or lack of talent, the other riders will not take advantage of the situation. We have seen this twice in recent Tours, once when Jan Ullrich misjudged a corner on the Peyresourde in 2001, cartwheeled into a ditch, and remounted to find Armstrong waiting to see if he was okay before continuing the battle, and then again when it was Armstrong on the deck after catching a brake lever on a spectator’s bag on Luz Ardiden in 2003, only for Ullrich, Hamilton and Co. to wait for him to get back up to them on the climb.

THE SPRINTS LOOK LIKE RANDOM CHAOS? WTF?
In reality, they are highly organized chaos. Teams with sprinters will keep the pace high over the final 30km to discourage solo breakaways, and will then start the lead-out over the last three-odd km. This involves positioning the team’s riders in a long line, riding flat out until they can no more, and then peeling off to let the next teammate do the same. If they get it right, the last lead-out man runs out of steam 250m from the line, and the sprinter can face the wind for the first time, relatively fresh and rested and charge for the win. It doesn’t always work, though, as opportunistic sprinters like Robbie McEwen will stay on the wheel of the established sprinters with lead-out trains, like Petacchi, and hope to use their (Petacchi’s) final effort as their own mini-lead-out. Often, Petacchi will have a teammate on his back wheel to stop this, which is where the head butting and elbowing comes in, as the McEwens of the world will do all it takes to get on the wheel. And all this at 70kph on streets little wider than two lanes!

ALL THE RIDERS RIDE FOR TEAMS, BUT AN INDIVIDUAL WINS. HUH?
All the riders on the team have specific duties – much like an MD has secretaries, typists, sales managers etc. Some will fetch water for the boss, give him a wheel if he punctures so he can ride on while they wait for a spare so he doesn’t waste energy, or pace on the front so he can conserve energy in their slipstream. In essence, a team of 9, of whom only one can win, and for whom the other eight will ride to exhaustion if it will save him one kilojoule of energy. And at the end of the Tour, the boss hands over his winnings and they get split between the faithful domestiques.

HOW DO THEY HOLD IT IN ON AN SEVEN-HOUR STAGE?
They don’t! There are three options: either go when the whole race stops for a ‘nature break’ which they will do at some point on most stages; stop on your own when there is a lull in the race, and chase back on with the help of some team mates; or go on the bike, peeing off to the side while a team mate pushes you from – hopefully – a downwind position on the other side.

WHY ISN’T THE WINNER THE RIDER WHO WINS THE MOST STAGES?
The winner is decided on cumulative time, so Petacchi might win nine flat stages – as he did in the 2004 Giro – but when he loses 40 minutes on the first mountain stage, the podium contenders who finish comfortably in the same time as him on the flats, will be way ahead on the overall classification.