Skip to main content

Le Tour de France

Fignon & LeMond
Ah, Summer! Bicycling magic is renewed for millions when the voices of Phil Liggett, Paul Sherwen, and Bob Roll, grace the television airwaves broadcasting Le Tour de France (Le Tour). When you dare to believe you’re an accomplished bicyclist, just tune into the NBCSN Sports broadcast of Le Tour in July. Very quickly humility sets in. To date, the riders in that race have ridden nine grueling stages, with an average distance of 186 kilometers, that’s 115 miles per day. This year is the 102nd Anniversary - 21 stages, a total distance of 3,360 kilometers, and only two, yes two, rest days - of this classic race that tours the French countryside with the finale in Paris on the Champs-Elysées.

Dare I say it – Le Tour can inspire even casual riders, take your bicycles from the back shed, dust them off, inflate their tires, and hit the streets. It’s amusing to see people pretend, they are in Le Tour, competing for the coveted yellow jersey. It’s summer in southern California, and yes, when you ride you will encounter bicyclists of all types, size, and experience levels. Why, just yesterday, after watching the exciting conclusion of Le Tour’s stage eight - 181.5 kilometers - we were inspired to hit the roads early and log a few kilometers, a mere 64.4 (40 miles). What a perfect blend of man and machine. Feel the wind lightly brush your face, the rhythm of your pumping legs, the thrill of seemingly effortless speed, the fluidity of the road as it rolls beneath you and passes in a grey blur. You approach an ominous hill, instinctively you downshift to maintain your momentum and smooth cadence, a slight grip on the handlebars, push with the right leg - pull with the left. Biomechanics at it’s best. Suddenly - a jolt, a pebble is launched from your tire and the rhythm of your cadence is temporarily altered. Ah, the thrill and freedom of the bicycle.

Indeed, during your moment of bliss you will encounter the following; the wanna-be-racers, enthusiasts who belong to a local cycle club and pretend they are the Peloton, (the throng of riders). They whiz past you in single file at breakneck speeds. In complete contrast, don't forget the families; children and adults floundering along, they generally travel in packs and obstruct the entire bike path. Finally, you have the cruisers that - squeak by, (a little chain lube will take care of that) out for a casual morning ride. It’s a challenge.

Bicycling magazine lists a few fun facts about Le Tour; racers will consume 160,000 calories during the three-week tour. 200 bottles of water or drink mix (depends on the temperature) per race. Alpe D‘ Huez (one of Le Tours most famous mountain stages, 13.2 km climb - this year stage 20) has 42 switchbacks. Most teams bring five bikes per rider, three for road stages and two for time trials. Sprinter Mark Cavendish has won 26 stage races in his professional career. Two more will tie him with Bernard Hinault for second place. Eddy Merckx holds the record with 34. Did I mention this is physical torture!

My own brush with Le Tour came in 1983 when we visited France just after Laurent Patrick Fignon (two-time winner of Le Tour) crossed the finish line, in Paris, with a total time of 105 hr. 7 min. 52 seconds. All of France savored the victory of their fellow countryman. That summer, racing was my passion, a Frenchman, my namesake, had won Le Tour. I logged 200 miles per week training for a local bike race to be held in Macomb, Ill. Representing the local Raleigh bicycle shop as sales manager, and repairman, let’s just say, I sported zero body fat, a rather large lung capacity, strong, clean-shaven climbing legs, and the optimism of youth. My boss gave me the month of August for vacation to visit my family in France.

We arrived (Mom, my sister, and me) in La Rochelle, just one-week after Le Tour ended. Stage Eight, had begun in La Rochelle. My uncle, Jean Paul, caught a discarded water bottle from one of the riders. Later he would present it as a treasured birthday gift to me; it remains my Le Tour memento. Even though I spoke little French, the five-hour drive from Paris to La Rochelle, we talked bicycle racing. My suitcase contained my cycling shorts and shoes but no jersey. I dreamed of that coveted yellow jersey, while visiting I would buy a replica yellow jersey. To my dismay I soon discovered the yellow jersey is earned, (it cannot be purchased) only with a stage win.

Jean Paul insisted I ride his Motobecane bicycle during my stay to train. And train I did, every morning it was out the door before breakfast. Riding the French countryside, I averaged between 20-25 kilometers. The locals were very friendly and always waived as I passed, the roads were narrow, some cobblestone, there were fields and fields of golden sunflowers blowing in the warm breeze. All my uncles’ friends and neighbors’ bragged on me, and with a wink, they would say, “No doubt, next year, your nephew will be riding Le Tour de France.” Hardly, I quipped, but the excitement of the recent Le Tour, and the thrill of riding in France for that month of August fueled my patriotism, and enthusiasm for the sport of cycling.
Patrick Lagord, France 1983

So, every year, in July, while Le Tour de France runs, riding my LeMond bicycle, we pretend, that we’ve just crested the summit of Alpe D‘ Huez on the final leg of our ride home. Yes, I know it’s but a fantasy, pardon me for a moment, for sentimental reasons, I’m headed to the garage to dig out that water bottle my uncle gave me 30 years ago and pay tribute to Laurent Fignon.

Oh, by the way, that Macomb race – with my pearlescent white, Raleigh Competition, I took first place that fall. There was no yellow jersey, no big jackpot, no podium with two lovely young french girls to present a trophy, or a new car. First prize was a ribbon, and the pride of representing our Raleigh bike shop.

Comments

Most Popular of All Time

Mom Was Right

In this episode: Mom Was Right (Again!) . . . Remember that old saying, "Mom knows best?" Well, this week, it resonated profoundly. I vividly recall my mother's steadfast remedy for the common cold, which was ingrained in my 1960s childhood: "Rest in bed, drink plenty of fluids, and take aspirin to reduce pain and fever." . . . Or now that I think about it, this may have been a Bayer aspirin commercial–Simple . . . Fast-forward to the age of AI and endless medical information at our fingertips, and guess what? Not much has changed. Yet, somehow, this week, Lori and I were blindsided by a cold—the first in over five years. My incredulous "How could this be?" quickly morphed into a dawning realization. Our company's annual meeting, a melting pot of colleagues from Illinois, Texas, Vietnam, Colorado, Northern California, and the Central Valley, was a veritable petri dish of germs. And, oh, the germs found me! Getting sick, especially after a long str...

Whispers of Spring

In this episode, Whispers of Spring . . . Spring has a way of sneaking in when you’re not looking. One day, you’re shaking off the last chill of winter, and the next, you realize the light has shifted, stretching shadows just a little longer. It didn’t make a big fuss about it—no dramatic entrance, no trumpets—just a quiet unfolding, like an old dog settling into a sunny spot on the porch. Last week, Daylight Saving Time kicked in, which meant we all fumbled with our clocks, grumbled a bit, and then, like frogs taken aback by a warm rain, leapt forward into longer evenings. The sun now lingers, in no rush to set, hanging in the sky like a tossed coin that refuses to fall. With the extra daylight, we find ourselves drawn outside once again, migrating to the back patio like folks are drawn to a warm campfire. The lawn chairs are right where we left them, waiting like old friends. The air hums with wind chimes, their tuned cylinders catching the breeze and weaving together something that...

Special April Fools' Edition: Did You Fall For It?

In this episode: Special April Fools' Edition: Did You Fall For It? (And a Little Baseball Nonsense) Welcome, fellow baseball aficionados and purveyors of the peculiar, to a very special, dare we say unpredictable, issue of On the Fly! Today, the air is thick with . . . well, probably just regular air, but a specific mischievous something is buzzing around. Can you feel it? Does that tingling sensation make you double-check your shoelaces and suspiciously eye any unusual packages? Yes, dear readers, it’s April 1st! A day steeped in mystery, shrouded in playful deception, and frankly, a day where you shouldn't believe anything you read (except maybe this . . .maybe). But before we descend into a whirlwind of whimsical falsehoods (don’t worry, we’ll mostly keep it light!), let’s take a quick, slightly wobbly, historical flight through the origins of this most unreliable of holidays. Whispers from the annals suggest a few intriguing possibilities for why we dedicate this particula...

At 92–Don's Digital Daydream

Listen to the audio here. In a world of his own–lives, ole' Doctor Don, Not one world, but three, 'til the setting of the sun! There’s his Blog-World , so bright, with words all a-whirl, And Book-World , with stories of boy and girl! Then, Day-World , where legs didn't leap, didn't run, Just shuffled and creaked 'til each day is done. But his brain, oh, his mind, it’s zippy and keen, A most curious fellow that ever was seen! At ninety and two, with a twinkle so bright, He met Chatty and said, "What a strange delight!" This box with the answers, so quick and so bold, Of theology and stories, new truths to unfold!" "Integrity, relationships, where do they fit? This thing makes me wonder, bit by bit!" He ponders and pokes with laughter and a grin, "Til POOF! he has gone to a world from within! A world made of words, a fantastical place, Where limits of the body, left not a trace! He Soares, and he zooms, with a thought and a rhyme, Trans...