The Tour de France

by Paul Hansford

  Don’t stress, though, help is at hand. This chapter takes a look at the Tour essentials, from an explanation of the different-coloured shirts and what prizes are up for grabs to the importance of the course and where the race is won and lost.

  With any luck you’ll be spouting off the gradients of the Tour’s steepest cols in no time and forgetting you ever had an interest in spey casting with a two-handed fly rod.

  Eyes on the prize

  Victory in the Tour de France is the ultimate for any cyclist, but winning the General Classification — or ‘GC’ — isn’t the only prize during the race. As well as the yellow jersey for the overall winner, there’s the green jersey for the Points Classification (often called the sprinter’s jersey), the polka-dot jersey for the King of the Mountains and the white jersey for the Best Young Rider.

  At the end of each stage, the rider who leads each classification is invited on stage to be presented with their jersey, which they have the honour of wearing on the next day of racing. Rather than a proper jersey, it’s a ceremonial shirt with a zip at the back, probably designed to allow the models that put it on the riders not to have to think about too many complex tasks at once.

  Yellow jersey

  For: Winner of the General Classification

  First winner: Firmin Lambot, 1919

  There are few more iconic prizes in all of sports than the yellow jersey. Tour founder and early race director Henri Desgrange struck upon the idea of a coloured jersey for the race leader after realising it was difficult to pick out the leading rider as the peloton raced by. The first man to wear yellow was Frenchman Eugène Christophe in 1919. He was asked to wear it at the start of stage 11, although Belgian Firmin Lambot was the first overall winner of the jersey. There was a claim by Belgian Philippe Thys that Desgrange had given him a yellow leader’s jersey in 1913, but no-one can corroborate the story. Eddy Merckx holds the record for the most days in yellow (at ninety-six, which equates to more than three months), while the most days by a current rider is twenty-eight, held by Switzerland’s Fabian Cancellara.

  Green jersey

  For: Winner of the Points Classification

  First winner: Fritz Schaer, 1953

  The winner of the green jersey is the rider who wins the most points, which are awarded at intermediate sprints and at the end of each stage. It is also known as the sprinter’s jersey, as it’s usually contested during the long, flat stages that end in sprint finishes, but the winner also needs to display some all-round skills, if only to finish within the time limit in the mountain stages. The first winner of the green jersey was Switzerland’s Fritz Schaer in 1953, and it was an award dominated by the Belgians in the early years: they took out eighteen of them between 1955 and 1988. German Erik Zabel holds the record for most green-jersey wins with six.

  Polka-dot jersey

  For: Winner of the King of the Mountains

  First winner: Lucien Van Impe, 1975

  A prix du meilleur grimpeur — or ‘prize for the best climber’ — has been awarded in the Tour since 1933 (first won by Spaniard Vicente Trueba) but it wasn’t until 1975 that the King of the Mountains wore a polka-dot jersey. The jersey is given to the rider who wins the most climbs during the Tour (first over the top), with different-category climbs worth different numbers of points. The distinctive pattern of red spots on a white background was chosen due to an early sponsorship deal with a chocolate company that sold its product in polka-dot wrapping. France’s Richard Virenque holds the record with seven wins, although for many his achievements are tainted by doping admissions; with six wins, legendary climber Federico Bahamontes is a more legitimate and worthy owner of the ‘best of all time’ record.

  White jersey

  For: Winner of the Best Young Rider

  First winner: Francesco Moser, 1975

  The white jersey is awarded to the best young rider under the age of twenty-six in General Classification. Compared to youth awards in other sports twenty-six years of age is relatively old, but it’s due to the fact that professional riders tend to come into their prime later in their careers. The exceptions to that rule are Laurent Fignon (1983), Jan Ullrich (1997), Alberto Contador (2007) and Andy Schleck (2010), who all won the yellow and white jerseys in the same year.

  Lanterne rouge

  For: ‘Winner’ of the last place in the GC

  First ‘winner’: Unknown

  Named after the red light that shines on the last carriage of a train, the lanterne rouge is awarded to the rider who comes dead last in the General Classification. While no jersey is awarded, the honour is a coveted one as the ‘winner’ is usually invited to many of the lucrative criteriums later in the season, where they are ironically revered (or is it patronised?) as the worst of the best riders in the world. In a perverse way, the lanterne rouge can be just as hard to win as the other classifications, as riders need to balance the fine line of being slow — but not too slow as to be disqualified by being outside the time limit.

  The course

  More than any other factor over the three-week race, the Tour de France’s route decides who will be standing triumphantly in yellow and who will be clinging on for dear life on the middle of a mountain pass. It creates and destroys legends in equal measure and dictates when riders attack, crack or fall to the ground in a heap of twisted metal. The biggest mistake any professional cyclist can make is to believe that they have control of the course; the course has all the power.

  Traditionally the Tour is raced over twenty-one stages. A Prologue kicks things off at the end of June, and then it runs for three weeks into the back end of July — with only two rest days during the competition for riders to salve their butt cheeks (or do whatever other funny business men can get up to in makeshift massage rooms in dodgy French motels).

  The race almost always pops into Italy and Spain along the way, and in modern times multiple stages have been held in foreign countries as far afield as Holland, Switzerland and Ireland. The Tour has even flirted with taking stages further — New York was once mooted as a stage host, and Qatar is said to be interested in bringing the race to the Arabian Peninsula in the future. The 2013 edition marked its hundredth anniversary by staying in France for the duration of the race.

  The sprinters, who get to pump their powerful tree trunks along the relatively flat first stages and stake an early claim on the green jersey, usually contest the initial week of racing. With all the slightly unhinged speedsters jostling for position, it’s the most dangerous time of the Tour and usually when the most crashes take place. Teams look to stay out of trouble and keep their leaders safe by getting as near to the front as they can, which only serves to increase the pace and make the front as congested and dangerous as anywhere else. However, the advantage of being at the head of the pack is that you can control the pace and avoid the fatal blow of being held up in or behind an early crash.

  The flat stages provide a great adrenalin rush, but for the majority of fans the Tour de France is all about the mountains. If the Tour is theatre, then the stages in the Alps and Pyrenees are the main act. It’s there the race takes on mythic status, where reputations are made and Tours are won. Simply put, if you can’t ride in the mountains, you don’t have a hope in hell of winning the Tour de France.

  Each mountain — or ‘col’ — has its own unique characteristics and challenges, from the twenty-one switchback bends of L’Alpe d’Huez and scorching lunar landscape of Mont Ventoux to the pant-browning descent of the Col d’Aubisque and the rare air of the Col de l’Iseran.

  They have a distinct history, too, mountains and riders inextricably linked by heroic attacks or epic battles. Mention a specific col to any Tour de France aficionado and they’ll invariably be able to tell you the legendary moment associated with it: Fausto Coppi’s obliteration of the field on Puy de Dôme; Mont Ventoux and Tom Simpson’s tragic final ascent; Louison Bobet’s flight across the dusty roads of the Col d’Izoard; and Lance Armstrong’s ‘look’ at Jan Ullrich
before storming up L’Alpe d’Huez.

  The mountains usually sort the men from the boys. But for the select few racers who can survive the vertical war of attrition, there’s still hope if they can pick up time on the time-trial (‘TT’) stages. Tour winners such as Jacques Anquetil and Miguel Indurain won Tours predominantly on their time-trialling skills, building such large advantages that they could ride defensively for the remainder of the race. Popularly known as the ‘Race of Truth’, there’s no hiding in the TT and races can be lost as well as won on them (e.g. Andy Schleck’s defeat by Cadel Evans in 2011). Undoubtedly the most famous time trial took place on the final stage in 1989, where Laurent Fignon and Greg LeMond battled it out for yellow in the most dramatic finale the Tour has ever seen.

  The conclusion of the modern-day Tour takes place in Paris along the famous Champs-Élysées. First used as the finish line in 1975, the race around the capital’s streets and the sprint to the line along la plus belle avenue du monde — ‘the most beautiful avenue in the world’ — is one of the most iconic in all of world sport.

  CHAPTER THREE

  The road cycling lexicon

  The key to watching and enjoying the Tour de France is getting your head around all the terminology involved. For the uninitiated, listening to commentators talking about riders bonking, cracking, being dropped, giving the elbow, hitting the wall, tar surfing and pedalling squares can be like trying to make sense of a couple of Londoners talking cockney rhyming slang (but without the urge to slap them around the face for sounding like Jamie Oliver). There is a world of phrases and expressions that make no sense to anyone but the cycling community, and even then some still require a bit of creative thinking — my favourite is a ‘yard sale’, which describes a crash where the cyclists’ belongings are strewn out along the street like a front garden–based bargain hunt.

  Knowing your Grande Boucle from your gruppetto or realising the flamme rouge is not a groin condition caused by wearing lycra for too long will undoubtedly enhance your enjoyment of the Tour — or at the very least make you not sound like a wet-behind-the-ears neo-pro — so fill up your bidon and check out the beginner’s guide to road-cycling terms.

  Abandon: The point when a rider leaves the race, through injury, mechanical problems or general knackeredness. Some pros see abandoning as a sign of weakness and refuse to throw in the towel regardless, such as Eddy Merckx, who rode to the finish of one race with a broken jaw. ‘I had to continue for the sake of the race, for honour and my teammates,’ said ‘The Cannibal’.

  Attack: To accelerate quickly from the pack to create a distance between yourself and the other riders. Not to be confused with attacks perpetrated by spectators, who have used nails, tacks, fists and a variety of wooden hitting instruments to express their dislike of certain riders.

  Autobus: Consisting of sprinters and spent domestiques on the mountain stages, the autobus rides somewhat collectively with the intention of getting everyone to the end of the stage before the cut-off time. The non-climbers of the bunch typically struggle on the ascent and then go hell for leather on the descent to bring themselves back to the group. See also: gruppetto.

  Battle scars: Permanent road-rash markings, often shown off by riders in a one-upmanship-like manner, like war veterans comparing shrapnel wounds.

  Bidon: A pretentious word for ‘water bottle’. Try not to confuse it with another French word that sounds similar, or you might be taking refreshment from a porcelain bowl designed to wash your old-fashioned tea towel holder.

  Bonk: Although it’s also a popular term used by UK tabloids to denote sexual intercourse, in cycling it’s used to describe a rider running out of energy on a long ride.

  Boxed in: To be surrounded by riders on all sides, denying a racer the space to move ahead. This is a particularly problematic situation for sprinters in the final few kilometres of a race.

  Bread and water: More popularly known as the Spanish ‘pan y agua’. A bread-and-water rider is one who doesn’t partake in doping, preferring to follow the Corinithian values of getting all they need from just water and bread. (Note: this is more of a figurative phrase, as it’s hard to be competitive while racing with a bottle of Evian and a loaf of wholemeal in the back pocket of your jersey.)

  Breakaway or break: A small group, or single rider, who manages to create space between themselves and the peloton.

  Broom wagon: A van (which, in the olden days, actually had a broom attached to it) that drives at the back of the race to ‘sweep up’ any struggling riders who have fallen behind the cut-off limit. Nowadays, most riders are spared the ignominy by being able to jump into air-conditioned Skodas or Jags if they can’t take the pace.

  Bunch sprint: A large group of riders heading to the finish line at high speeds, with each team trying to form a train to lead their top sprinter to victory.

  Commissaire: The race marshal, usually following the riders in a Skoda and looking very serious. They’ve been known to have the odd bidon thrown at them from time to time.

  Crack: When a rider has run out of energy, he is said to crack, e.g., ‘Look at Contador, he’s cracked with one kilometre to go!’; not to be confused with the non-performance-enhancing drug of the same name.

  Dancing on the pedals: A term used for a particularly light-footed climber who, when raised out of the saddle, looks like Fred Astaire on wheels.

  Delgado, to do a: To arrive late for a race, much like reigning champion Pedro Delgado did at the Prologue of the 1989 Tour. He was so busy signing autographs for adoring fans he lost track of time and, when he finally turned up, the clock had already ticked off two minutes and forty seconds. D’oh!

  Directeur sportif: French for ‘sporting director’ or team manager of a cycling team.

  Domestique: Translated directly from French it means ‘servant’, but in cycling the term is not demeaning. In fact, domestiques are one of the most crucial parts of team racing during Grand Tours, as these riders support, protect and work for their team leaders, forgoing personal ambitions for the good of the team’s goals.

  Drop: If you’re doing the dropping it means you suddenly ride away from an opponent who can’t keep up with your extra pace; if you’re being dropped, you fall out the back of the peloton or a break because the tempo is too high.

  Elbow, give the, or to flick the elbow: When a rider flicks their elbow out to the side, it means they want the person behind them to overtake. Usually done when riders are working together and they’ve done their turn, or when the front-runner has no more energy and they’re signalling that their work is done.

  Feed zone: The cycling equivalent of the part of town where all the drive-thru Maccas and KFCs are situated. The feed zone is a designated part of the course where team support staff hand out musettes with food, drink and energy gels. Racing etiquette dictates that no attacks should take place in the feed zone, as racers naturally slow down to pick up their doggy bags.

  Flamme rouge: A red marker that denotes the ‘one kilometre to go’ point of a race, usually hanging over the top of the road, attached to an inflatable arch. Sounds far more romantic than its description, eh?

  GC: General Classification, or the overall standing of a stage race based on cumulative time. Riders will either ride for stages that suit their riding style or ‘for the GC’.

  Grande Boucle: French for ‘big loop’, it’s another name for the Tour de France as, especially during the early years, it tended to follow the hexagon shape of the country in a single loop.

  Gruppetto: The bunch of riders who make up the back of the field on the mountain stages, usually the sprinters and rouleurs that struggle in the high stuff. These riders will usually work together, united in their collective suffering, to stay ahead of the cut-off time on each stage. See also: Autobus.

  Hammer: The imaginary tool that is ‘put down’, denoting a cyclist who is riding hard away from his opponents, e.g. ‘Wiggins really put the hammer down on that uphill stretch.’

  Hit the
wall: To run out of energy during a race. An actual wall is not usually hit.

  Holding the wheel: When a rider is just behind another, taking advantage of their slipstream. It can denote someone who is riding strongly to keep up with a rival, but it also can be used negatively, in the sense that a rider is saving energy by using another to shield and drag him along. See also: wheel sucker.

  Lanterne rouge: The title given to the last rider to finish the race, named after the red light that’s at the back of the last carriage of a train. When hope is lost, some riders flirt with the cut-off time to try and win the award.

  Maillot jaune: French for ‘yellow jersey’. Usually used by journalists and writers with no knowledge of French who have already written ‘yellow jersey’ in a sentence and need to find an alternative word to avoid repetition. Browse this book for examples.

  Magic spanner: When a rider takes a cheeky lift by hanging on to the team car as the mechanic leans out pretending to adjust the bike’s seat. Similar to the ‘sticky bottle’, when a rider holds on to a water bottle being handed to them for a little too long in order to get a pull from the team car.

  Meat on the road, to leave some: To leave some of your flesh on the tarmac after a spot of tar surfing.

  Musette: A cloth shoulder bag filled with energy-giving foods that riders grab in the feed zone, which is then discarded, only to turn up on eBay as ‘Authentic Vincenzo Nibali Nosh Bag from La Vuelta’. Also the name of a great cycling cafe in downtown Vancouver, packed to the brim with top memorabilia and lattes in Bianchi-coloured mugs.

  Neo-pro: A first-year cyclist.

  On the rivet: When a cyclist is riding as fast as they can, usually with their bum perched forward on the pointy end of the saddle. Back in the ‘olden days’, saddle leather used to be affixed by rivets all the way along the outside edge.