CQ27_FINAL_SPREADS (1)

FROM PARIS TO THE
BLUE WAVES OF THE
MEDITERRANEAN,
FROM MARSEILLE TO
BORDEAUX, PASSING
ALONG THE ROSEATE
AND
The
DREAMING
sport of cycling demands
ROADS
of those who want to engage in
SLEEPING it two kinds of quality, UNDER of very THE
different order, which complement
SUN, ACROSS THE
each other: the head and the legs.
CALM OF THE FIELDS
OF THE VENDÉE, FOL-
LOWING THE LOIRE,
WHICH FLOWS ON STILL
AND SILENT, OUR MEN
ARE GOING TO RACE
MADLY, UNFLAGGINGLY.
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Any keen cyclist reading
Desgrange’s magnum opus
today can glean plenty of decent
training tips on developing
not only the body, but sound
judgement and plenty of
sangfroid. The modern approach
to cycling can trace its roots
directly to Desgrange’s assertion
that “le sport cycliste exige
de la part de celui qui veut s’y
adonner deux genres de qualité,
d’ordre bien différent, qui se
complètent l’un et l’autre: la
tête et les jambes” – The sport
of cycling demands of those
who want to engage in it two
kinds of quality, of very different
order, which complement each
other: the head and the legs.
But this isn’t just a training
manual. Through his letters
to H.D. – recalling those
looping initials that many a
Tour winner will carry on his
breast, reinforcing his brand –
Desgrange is making the man
that will one day regenerate
the nation. A nation that first
comes to see the shape of itself
through the maps printed on the
front page of l’Auto promoting
his Tour de France.
How to make a warrior
1914, and it’s almost impossible
to foresee the Tour taking place
against the backdrop of the
escalating political crisis. But
as Archduke Franz-Ferdinand is
assassinated in Sarajevo on 28th
June, Philippe Thijs – nicknamed
‘the Basset Hound’ for his lowslung
style on the bike – wins
the monstrous 388km stage
between Paris-Le Havre on his
way to victory overall in Paris.
Six days later, the world is at
war.
Desgrange gathered all the
patriotic militarism of a recently
defeated nation into his editorial
on the brink of war. “Mes p’tits
gars! Mes p’tits chéris! Mes
p’tits gars francais! Ecoutezmoi!”
he implores the 197
riders of the 1914 race, before
slinging insults at the Prussians
and writing with impassioned
violence of the need for riders
to get stuck into the ‘great
match’.
“Make good use of all your
repertoire. Tactics should hold
no worries for you. Use your
guile and you’ll return . . . you
know all that, my lads, better
than me, who you’ve been
teaching for nearly 15 years. But
be careful! When your rifle is
pointed at their chest, they’ll ask
your forgiveness. Don’t give it to
them. Crush them without pity.”
He’d already used the race
literally to push the boundaries,
sending the Tour through the
disputed territories of Alsace-
Lorraine, urging the peloton
to sing La Marseillaise as an
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