Vironment

I watched a substantial part of the 2008 Tour d’France. These men are not human. They are superhuman. Even although we managed a 4 500km tandem cycle ride round South Africa, the thought of riding at an average of over 40kmh for 6 hours a day for three weeks is not conceivable. And those mountains! They stagger the imagination. All the finishers are super heroes, but I understand professional cyclists are the worst paid of all the sportsmen.

The first Tour was organized in 1903 and was won by Maurice Garin who finished 2h49m ahead of the next placed. To put it into perspective, it was the year of the Wright Brothers’ flight at Kittyhawk.

This year was also different in that although Cadel Evans had been touted as being the probable winner, every day brought surprises. There were, to my knowledge, 8 wearers of the yellow jersey.

There were some spectacular crashes and to my amazement, most of the riders got back on their bikes and went on. Well, maybe they didn’t mount the same bike that at the time was unridable, but they continued on a fresh bike as if nothing had happened. It is heart-stopping to see a rider crashing into the barrier and flying, still attached to his bike, down the mountainside. We felt so sorry for John-Lee Augustyn when he took the turn too wide, slithered down the mountainside, completely losing touch with his bike and couldn’t get his footing on the loose shale. Even when a spectator slid down to help him, he had to wait for about 5 minutes for the team to bring him a replacement bike. This lost him the stage.

There are always crashes on the fast mountain descents. In 1960, Roger Riviere was sure he would win, but on the descent of Perjuret Pass, he crashed into a ravine and never raced again.

One of the more spectacular crashes was when the rider made contact with what is called ‘traffic furniture’, was thrown off his bike that flew away from him and broke in half. He immediately remounted on the spare bike provided by the team mechanics and continued. I think I would need trauma counseling.

In 1913 Eugene Christophe’s fork snapped in the Pyrenees. There was no back-up available, so he walked 14km to the nearest village and used the blacksmith’s forge to repair it and returned to the race. A plaque was erected to his determination at Saint-Marie-de-Campan. The route was 5287km and was ridden at an average of 26.715kmh

A few riders were hurt sufficiently to retire, and I cry for them after all the preparation and hopes.

What upset me were the idiots who are still taking performance enhancing drugs. They must know by now that they will be caught, to the detriment of their careers and also to the hopes and pockets of the whole team. I realize that it is about money and prestige and very little about Sport, but stupidity andor cupidity are not worth the disgrace. It doesn’t make them popular with the other team members either. (I was shocked to hear that Ricco latest test shows that he has been using EPO. It is sad when your heroes are so sickeningly demoted.)

The 1914 Tour was 5380km ridden at an average of 26.835kmh. But Europe was mobilizing for war and there were no Tours until 1919. That year the participation was poor for a number of reasons. Many of the young men had been killed, Europe was in a mess and the bomb damage to the roads mdke riding difficult. There were only 69 participants. But it was the first time the yellow jersey was introduced.

But isn’t France beautiful? The ancient little villages with their churches either in the very middle, surrounded by the homes of the faithful, or perched precariously on the top of the slightest rise in the terrain. I am doubly amazed when the commentators quote the age of some of these structures. In this country such an age is out of the question as the dwellings of the indigenous peoples were all bio-degradable.

And the water! Accustomed as we are to living in a country with little water this is delightful to see. There are streams everywhere and large rivers in most of the bigger towns. There are ploughed fields and vineyards and stretches of forest so
riders go through long avenues of stately trees.

And in stark contrast, there is the snow and the glaciers and glacial lakes.. And what was a big surprise to me were the many inactive volcanoes. I somehow don’t think of volcanoes in France.

Of course, no description of Le Tour would be complete without a mention of the spectators and their campers. It is hard to believe that there are so many campers in Europe, but apparently you have to book for next year as you return the vehicle at the end of Le Tour. When the roads are closed for up to three days before the riders pass, these people must find their precarious inch of parking space and settle in for a long wait. Or they park some distance away, usually in a farmer’s field or at the bottom of the mountain and walk up to find standing room along the verge of the narrow roads.

Their enthusiasm sometimes gets out of hand, especially at the top of a mountain where there is a hot spot. They crowd the riders and wave their plastic batons and flags and run alongside the bikes, creating hazards for the riders who are interested only in getting over the top and enjoying a breather on the way down.

I think the way down is even more hazardous. They are riding at up to 90kmh on the sharp bends, and are taking their lives in their hands. The slightest loss of concentration, or a mechanical failure can cause a disaster, not only to themselves,
but also to the pack streaming down behind them.

To quote some figures. In 1990 there were 3,500 people involved in the Tour. There were 635 journalist;, 140 photographers from 25 countries ad 368 newspapers; and 20 TV stations. The distance was 3504km at an average speed of 38.621kmh

As a a result of WWII there were no Tours from 1940 until 1947. That year the winner, Robic, had promised his new bride that he would win because he didn’t have a dowry.

No discussion of the Tour would be complete without mentioning Lance Armstrong. He participated in 11 Tours, starting in 1993 and won seven in a row from 1999 to 2006.

The thought of the organization is staggering. When you see the streams of team cars with bikes on the rooftop carriers, the police motorbikes, the cameramen perched on the pillion of a bike, the race car and the doctor who manages to treat wounds while traveling at a dizzy speed. And there are the team mechanics who lean out the window and make adjustments to the cyclist’s bike while he continues to pedal. (Wonder at the speed with which the mechanics appear when there is a problem. Wheels are changed almost at the speed seen in F1 motor racing.) And there are the 2 helicopters following on high, taking pictures and the plane that receives the broadcasts and relays them.

Consider the travel arrangements for such a number of people. They have to be housed and transported from town to town when the race leaves from a new venue. The cooking arrangements must be a real head-ache, making sure that each rider is fed something that agrees with him. They did quote the number of bottles of water consumed. It was stupendous, but I don’t remember. I know they say that each cyclist consumes up to 8 litres daily, or even more if it is hot.

We must not forget the helpers who stand in the middle of the road when the musets are being passed out. Each team has its own combination of goodies and even then much of the content is thrown to the spectators to keep as a memento. In such a crowd I would be nervous of taking a hand of the handlebars to grab a muset and hang it over my shoulder. But they manage to extract what they want and transfer it to the back pocket of their shirts, roll up the bag and throw it to the crowds who are always big at feeding stations in the hopes of collecting something..

You have to appreciate the enthusiasm of the populations of the villages through which the Tour passes. They don’t complain about the disruption or the fact that their road is closed, sometimes for days. Instead they close down their businesses and welcome the riders with balloons and banners, messages floating in the middle of lakes, statues on the traffic circles and numerous works of art in the fields.

Le Tour is indeed a spectacle that grabs the imagination of the world. It would be tragic if doping scandals caused it to be cancelled.