THE GREATEST RACE IN THE WORLD

To watch it is a privilege, to take part is an honour and to win is a dream. But to understand the legend, the heroism, the lore and what all the fuss is about, we have to go way back. – By Neil Gardiner

Before the turn of the 20th century, France’s morale was at an alltime low. It had been crushed in the Franco-Prussian War, losing Alsace and Lorraine, and the people, certainly the men, had been emasculated. This was the rich soil that helped fertilise the early growth of bicycle racing in France. Many of these long-distance contests have survived in some shape or form, like Liege-Bastogne-Liege and Paris-Roubaix. But the biggest survivor is the Tour.

We cut to 1903 – an argument between two men. The one owns a newspaper called Le Velo and his competitor owns L’Autovelo. The argument is over the trademark name and eventually, a court has to decide on the matter. This leaves L’Auto editor Henri Desgrange with sleepless nights, pondering on the failure of the paper after a name change. He hatches a plan. Cycle racing is a growing sport, so why not create another race, why not join up the routes of all the other French races, why not hold it over many days instead of one, why not call it Le Tour de France.

People in each village bought the paper the day the 60 riders went by (to see
who won the stage) and then bought the paper at the end of the race to read about professional chimney sweep Maurice Garin, the eventual winner of the 2 500km event; 130 000 papers were sold, 100 000 over the previous circulation. Enough reason to hold it again the following year.

With only six stages and no breaks for sleep, competitors were expected to ride through the night. While the idea of splitting the race into stages and to base it on cumulative time stuck, Desgrange decided to change the route to keep it interesting. But with the 1904 race being a must-win for every cyclist, it was riddled with scandal. Partisan fans sprinkled nails on the road in front of rivals and riders even took car and train rides. The top four were disqualified and fifth-place rider Henri Cornet became the official 1904 winner. But the skullduggery left Desgrange in despair and he cancelled the race.

The cheating theme has remained a thread running right through to very recent history, from getting lifts to taking substances to deaden pain and improve performance. There were even reports of rival teams poisoning each other. But this early crisis was solved quickly and Desgrange changed his mind, adding stricter rules. Like the no outside assistance rule, where riders had to make all their own repairs.

This rule cost Eugene Christophe a Tour win in the Pyrenees when he broke his forks. He forged it at the nearest blacksmith while a race official looked on. But a small boy operated the bellows, fanning the fire, and this earned him time penalties, plus the time delay repairing the damage.

Desgrange also added some mountain roads to the route. The highest of these was the Ballon d’Alsace, which was summited first by René Pottier. As the first of many tragically destructive Tour de France characters, he later hanged himself from the hook used to store his bike.

World War 1 postponed the Tour till 1919, when, midway during the race, Desgrange wanted the leader of the race to wear something distinctive so spectators could recognise the leader. That became the yellow jersey, matching the pages of the newspaper. Christophe was the first wearer but would later lose it after bad luck scuppered his chances.

The 1930s saw further reformatting, with competitors organised into national teams. Everyone rode identical bikes and the publicity caravan was introduced to make up for the cash shortfall from the absence of the cycle manufacturers and their teams. The Tour also took on other advertisers, began to broadcast live radio transmissions and three-speed derailleurs were allowed.

Desgrange died in 1940 but the race recommenced to full speed after World War 2, when two of the most famous climbs of the tour, the Ventoux and the Alpe d’Huez, were added to the Tour’s route. Rivals Coppi and Bartali fought for overall honours and the 10-year gap between Bartali’s Tour wins is still a record.

The 1960s era of the Tour showed a return to a sponsored team format and Jacques Anquetil’s five-Tour domination of Raymond Poulidor. Anquetil as the aloof aristocrat, Poulidor the working-class hero, the two were natural enemies and clearly stencilled the French people’s love for the second place guy, the struggler.

Soon, however, there’d be blood on the tracks, with Briton Tommy Simpson dropping dead on Mont Ventoux with amphetamines found in his pocket. This gave rise to a heightened doping vigilance but it would still take 30 years for Uzbekistan’s Djamolidine Abdoujaparov to become the first rider to be disqualified from the Tour for taking banned substances. For such a demanding and dangerous event, it’s remarkable that only two men have died in the race. Fabio Casartelli died after crashing into a stone marker at the side of the Col de Portet d’Aspet and his family will attest to two dead is two too many.

In the late 1960s and 1970s a young Belgian, Eddy Merckx arrived, to Poulidor’s dismay. In 1969 he beat second-place Roger Pingeon by over 17 minutes for the first of four straight Tour wins. He finished his career with five.

Then came Bernault Hinault in the late 1970s and early 1980s. Hinault too won five Tours, his run broken in 1986 by Greg LeMond, the first American to win the Tour. He went on to win three, the 1989 Tour by a record eight seconds. The Miguel Indurain years (five wins) were followed by the Armstrong era (a record seven wins). But no obvious dominant successor is in evidence. Perhaps it’s the depth of talent, maybe it’s the specialization of riders, or better access to better training methods. Or maybe the first eight-time Tour winner could emerge this year.