© Presse Sports
Far behind riders of the stature of Eddy Merckx, Bernard Hinault and Mark Cavendish, in the history of the Tour de France there have been almost three hundred men who only got a fleeting taste of glory. As the countdown to the start of the race on 7 July continues, letour.fr is retracing the steps of 10 champions who clinched a single stage win. Back in the 1963 Tour, the Saint-Raphaël team conquered the stage to Roubaix with an Irishman who had put down roots in France. The velodrome gave Seamus Elliott his greatest victory… and a sense of closure.
Everyone called him a friend. Seamus Elliott, always wearing a grin on his plump face, spoke fluent French with just a hint of an accent from the Emerald Isle. Even more importantly, he rode his heart out for leaders such as Jean Stablinski and Jacques Anquetil, happy to sweep his own ambitions under the rug without a word of complaint. Although Elliott and his friend „Stab“ had been racing for different teams in the 1962 Worlds, he had done everything he could to slow down the chase in the small group fighting for victory, resulting in the rider from northern France winning gold and the Irishman having to settle for silver. In 1963, the stage from Jambes to Roubaix was well-suited to „Shay“, who had narrowly missed a victory in the Hell of the North due to a broken saddle. The Irishman’s tactics dovetailed with the plans of his leader at Saint-Raphaël. „Maître Jacques“ urged his teammates to control the breakaway, which had good odds of making it to the finish.
Mission accomplished
Stablinski and Elliott —the team’s best assets on this sort of terrain— slipped into the leading group. Elliott was forced to dig deep after suffering two punctures on the cobblestones, the last one just 20 km before the line. Fortunately for the Irishman, the world champion shepherded him back to the escape group on both occasions. Once again, smart tactics and powerful feelings all pointed towards the need to work together in such a tricky finish, particularly with Stablinski seeing an opportunity to return the favour. Stablinski was godfather to Elliott’s young son. The Irishman took a leaf out of little Pascal’s book to hang on alone at the front for the final six kilometres before the velodrome. „Shay“ finished 33″ ahead of a small group of chasers led by none other than Stablinski —good enough to pull on the yellow jersey. Antoine Blondin hailed this double whammy, which no other Irish rider had accomplished, in a piece in L’Équipe titled Ça fait Dublin par où ça passe, where he outlined his vision of an international peloton ahead of his time: „He belongs to a migratory species of cyclists who feel at home anywhere as long as there is bread and a saddle. He is a citizen of the roads, and a race number is his passport.“ Decades before Sean Kelly and Stephen Roche pulled off even greater victories in the 1980s, Elliott kept the yellow jersey for four days, until Angers. Once in Paris, the jersey was safely on Anquetil’s shoulders. Mission accomplished.

© Presse Sports
Far behind riders of the stature of Eddy Merckx, Bernard Hinault and Mark Cavendish, in the history of the Tour de France there have been almost three hundred men who only got a fleeting taste of glory. As the countdown to the start of the race on 7 July continues, letour.fr is retracing the steps of 10 champions who clinched a single stage win. Back in the 1956 Tour, Jean-Pierre Schmitz produced one of the most epic rides in the history of Luxembourgish cycling to win a Pyrenean stage that seemed to have fellow Luxembourger Charly Gaul’s name written all over it.
Everyone knows that the first non-French rider to win the Tour was a Luxembourger. François Faber opened the account in 1909, followed a couple of decades later by Nicolas Frantz. Fast-forward to 1956 and the two-time winner of the race (1927 and 1928) was serving as the director of a mixed Luxembourgish-British-Portuguese team for what was expected to be Charly Gaul’s triumphal parade in the Tour de France. The favourite had put his country back on the map the previous year by finishing third overall and winning the mountains classification. The Angel of the Mountains could count on the support of a brother-in-arms who was only slightly less talented. Going into his Tour debut, Jean-Pierre Schmitz already had a few impressive performances under his belt, including second place in the 1954 Critérium du Dauphiné and a nice silver medal won at the Worlds in Frascati, Italy in late summer 1955. Although no-one expected it to be necessary, „Jempy“ was more than ready to step up to the plate if his leader and friend ran into trouble.
A prodigious jump
That is precisely what happened as the peloton rolled out of Pau for the second Pyrenean stage. Gaul showed signs of weakness and Nicolas Frantz gave the go-ahead for the rest of the team to attack. The time had come for Schmitz to shine. After catching the breakaway of the day, he kept his powder dry on the ascent to the Col de Aspin, only to attack on the descent, climb the Col de Peyresourde on his own and plunge to the finish in Luchon. This is how Pierre Chany described this monster performance in the next day’s edition of L’Équipe: „The way the ’spare Luxembourger‘ came back on the climbs was absolutely stunning. Just think of it: after trailing the breakaway by eight minutes while still in the peloton with 54 kilometres to, Mr J.-P. crossed the line in Luchon no less than 2′08″ ahead of runner-up Fernand Picot!“ An opportunity to repeat this flash of brilliance never presented itself to Schmitz, who spent most of his career as a luxury domestique to Charly Gaul, particularly in the latter’s victorious Grande Boucle in 1958. Every man at his station!

© Presse Sports
Far behind riders of the stature of Eddy Merckx, Bernard Hinault and Mark Cavendish, in the history of the Tour de France there have been almost three hundred men who only got a fleeting taste of glory. As the countdown to the start of the race on 7 July continues, letour.fr is retracing the steps of 10 champions who clinched a single stage win. Back in the 1947 Tour, Albert Bourlon went solo in the first Pyrenean stage and brought his adventure to a victorious conclusion 253 kilometres later. It was the longest solo ride in the modern history of the race.

Albert Bourlon flew under the radar in his Tour debut in 1938, the penultimate edition before the war. Although a strong and hard-working power rider, Bourlon’s lack of tactical flair seemed to condemn him to a lifetime in the shadow of other cyclists. Fresh out of the Renault factories, where he had taken on a leading role among trade unionists at the height of the 1936 strikes, the communist worker flopped in the Tour de France —still, nothing compared to the trials and tribulations he went through during World War II. Following his capture and imprisonment in German stalags, he tried to escape again and again until he finally managed to break out. He crossed Ukraine, Slovakia and Hungary on foot until reaching Romania… where he even managed to win the Bucharest–Ploiești–Bucharest classic in 1944! When it came to daring escapes, the rider from the Berry region earned a reputation for being as tough as nails, and he was even decorated with the Croix de Guerre. However, when the peloton rolled out from Carcassonne in the 1947 Tour de France, no-one seemed concerned about the France Centre/South-West rider when he jumped right after Jacques Goddet gave the start from his Hotchkiss cabriolet. Even Bourlon had his sights set on making a quick buck by taking the bonus available in Espéraza, about 50 kilometres down the road, and certainly not on reaching Luchon all on his own.
With Marcel Cerdan
It was only when his advantage over the peloton ballooned to 29 minutes near the halfway point that Bourlon started to fancy his chances. Although a terrible climber, he gritted his teeth over the Col du Portet d’Aspet and the Col d’Ares to finish on the Allées d’Étigny with 16 minutes to spare —enough time to freshen up, change clothes and shoot the breeze with Marcel Cerdan before the rest of the bunch crossed the line. Jacques Goddet paid tribute to Bourlon’s stubbornness in the next day’s edition of L’Équipe: „The 253-kilometre course of the fourteenth stage was not too demanding because it did little damage among the big names, but it was still 253 kilometres over a long succession of hills and small mountains. Every single pursuer was convinced that, sooner or later, Bourlon would be found relaxing at a small inn near a river with trout in it, exhausted and overwhelmed by the magnitude of the task at hand. What a mistake! Bourlon is one of the last of a dying breed, those that never go to bed until the job is done.“

Bourlon’s solo exploit, virtually unmatchable now that stages tend to have a more reasonable length, is often described as a record, which is true for the post-war era. It is also true that René Pottier rode alone for 325 kilometres to win the stage from Grenoble to Nice in the 1906 Tour. However, that was at a time when the general classification was points-based, so winning by a mile was the same as winning by an inch!

© Presse Sports
Far behind riders of the stature of Eddy Merckx, Bernard Hinault and Mark Cavendish, in the history of the Tour de France there have been almost three hundred men who only got a fleeting taste of glory. As the countdown to the start of the race on 7 July continues, letour.fr is retracing the steps of 10 champions who clinched a single stage win. Spaniard Federico Ezquerra demonstrated his climbing abilities in the 1936 Tour under grievous circumstances. Back home, the uprising of Francoist forces had just pushed the conflict between Republicans and Nationalists past the point of no return.
In the history of France, 1936 is remembered as a time of harmony, optimism and social progress, as seen in the Tour de France itself following the introduction of a week of paid leave. Meanwhile, on the other side of the Pyrenees, the electoral victory of a coalition also known as the Popular Front in February sparked a wave of violence that led to the Spanish Civil War several months later, when the Nationalist faction launched a failed coup on 17 and 18 July. Spanish riders had started the Tour de France on the defensive —on the cobbled sectors, for example—, but the start of the mountain stages brought with it their chance to shine. The leg-breaking course of the stage from Nice to Cannes on 19 July whetted the appetite of Federico Ezquerra, possibly the most explosive member of the Spanish Armada. Ezquerra’s climbing abilities had caught the attention of L’Auto, which nicknamed him the Eagle of the Galibier after he was first over the top of this mountain pass in his debut in 1934. On this occasion, the Spaniard dropped his breakaway companions Sylvère Maes and Félicien Vervaecke like a stone on the ascent to La Turbie. However, the two riders were still hot on his heels, and there were 30 kilometres to go before the finish in Cannes. After crowning the ascent, the Basque rider decided not to change gears, which at the time required stopping for half a minute to spin the back wheel. Ezquerra’s gamble paid off and he went on to claim the greatest win of his career on the French Riviera.
Team of exiles in 1937
L’Auto seems to have missed the political significance of his triumph, but Jacques Goddet meticulously analysed and heaped praise on Ezquerra’s style. „Good old Federico is not particularly aesthetic when he gets up on the pedals, hunched towards the front, jumping from one thigh to the other like a metronome. He thrusts from his kidneys, seemingly from the bottom up. The hip seems to pull the pedal upwards instead of pushing against it. This type of movement evokes the feeling of levity that has become the hallmark of climbing talent.“ One year later, in 1937, Republican Spain fielded a team composed mostly of exiles, with Mariano Cañardo and Julián Berrendero also taking their only victories at the Tour de France.