@Presse Sports
Light-years behind the records of Eddy Merckx and nowhere as famous as the three other five-time winners of the Tour de France, Jacques Anquetil, Bernard Hinault and Miguel Indurain, a total of 67 riders have worn the yellow jersey for just one day (or even less) in their careers and exemplified the pursuit of excellence from a humble start. In the 1952 Tour de France, Andrea Carrea, a domestique riding for Fausto Coppi and Gino Bartali in the Italian team, burst into tears as he pulled on the yellow jersey, saying that he was not worthy of an honour meant for his leaders.
Being a domestique is a professional commitment. Some would even liken it to a sacred office. While it can be a logical career path for riders who are acutely aware of their limits, it takes a clear picture of the generosity of this arduous task and a strong sense of loyalty to become a trusted lieutenant. „Only a brave soul can accept as ideal a job that involves toiling away anonymously and burning the energy surplus that makes the difference for the win, while giving up all hopes and dreams of entering the pantheon of cycling“, wrote Jacques Goddet in L’Équipe, paying tribute to Andrea Carrea and, in effect, all the riders pedalling in the shadow of their own moral fibre.
Andrea Carrea started the 1952 Tour de France following a Giro d’Italia in which he had helped Fausto Coppi take his fourth win in the corsa rosa. Il Campionissimo had crushed the competition with raw power and sheer class. At this point in his career, Coppi commanded huge respect from the peloton for his physical capabilities and constant humility alike. However, their hierarchical and emotional ties were also a powerful driving force for Carrea, born just a few kilometres from Castellania. When a group rode clear more than 140 km into the stage to Lausanne, the gregario went with it to protect his captain’s interests. By the end of the stage, the breakaway had gained over 9 minutes. Carrea, who had not realised he was the highest-ranked rider in the group, took over the yellow jersey in tears, fearing the wrath of Coppi, previous leader Fiorenzo Magni and Italian coach Alfredo Binda. „He looked like a child who had stolen a jar of jam in the afternoon and could now see his father coming, fully aware of what he had done“, wrote the journalist covering the return of the squadra to their hotel for L’Équipe. Of course, instead of the severe rebuke he had expected, what he got was the warm and sincere congratulations of everyone around him.
Even though he deemed himself unworthy of the honour, Carrea rolled out in yellow for what was to be a historic stage, featuring the very first high-altitude finish in the history of the Tour de France. As fate would have it, this humble gregario will forever be remembered as the first rider to tackle the 21 hairpin bends of the Alpe d’Huez in yellow. What a powerful symbol it was! Meanwhile, Fausto Coppi smashed the opposition on the fearsome climb and snatched the yellow jersey. The provisional podium at the end of the day was an all-Italian affair, with Carrea right behind Coppi, who was now poised to enter Italian soil with a spectacular performance on the road to Sestriere. Everything was back to normal.
@ASO

Light-years behind the records of Eddy Merckx and nowhere as famous as the three other five-time winners of the Tour de France, Jacques Anquetil, Bernard Hinault and Miguel Indurain, a total of 67 riders have worn the yellow jersey for just one day (or even less) in their careers and exemplified the pursuit of excellence from a humble start. In the last Tour de France before the war, surprise guest Amédée Fournier brought his experience as a track cyclist to bear to claim the first yellow jersey.

Photo: @Presse Sports
Although dark clouds loomed on the horizon as the 1939 Tour de France rolled out onto the roads, no-one even suspected it would be eight years before the peloton flocked to Paris again for the great July celebration. The French team was banking on Victor Cosson, René Vietto and Maurice Archambaud to fill the vacuum left by André Leducq and Antonin Magne. No-one had even thought of inviting Amédée Fournier to either the big national team or any of the four regional ones, but a last-minute withdrawal opened up a spot, resulting in Fournier’s hasty conscription into the blue-and-yellow North-East–Île-de-France team. It was not the first time that Amédée Fournier was going to take part, as he had already started the race as a touriste-routier in 1936, when a crash in stage 4 had left him with a broken wrist and out of the Tour.

This time round, the protégé of the newly retired Charles Pélissier went into the Tour with hunger tempered with smarts. Sparks flew in the opening stage, with riders launching one rash attack after another but going nowhere, while Fournier bode his time. „Did you, at any point during the day, see our young ‚Médoche‘ chase the yellow jersey like all the bird-brained youngsters I just wrote about? Nay. He was as quiet as a mouse and thus managed to fly under the radar“, gushed Henri Desgrange in his column in L’Auto to salute his cunning strategy. Fournier had waited until the peloton was just a few kilometres from Caen to go on the offensive, joining another seven gutsy riders in a counter-attack determined to catch defending champion Romain Maes, who was chugging along on his own at the front of the race. Once in the velodrome, the track cycling medallist in the 1932 Los Angeles Olympics simply had to let his raw speed do the talking: „It was like an hallucination. I immediately realised I could be the one to start in yellow in Caen tomorrow. It was galvanising. I pushed forward like a madman and, when I looked up, I’d won“, explained Fournier as the magnitude of his exploit started to sink in at the hotel.

Brimming with confidence ahead of the time trial scheduled for the next morning, especially after pocketing a 30″ time bonus along with his stage win, the first yellow jersey of the 1939 Tour ended up yielding the lead to… Romain Maes! A few days later, Fournier plummeted down the general classification (54th), but he still managed to take another stage after a rough sprint in Nantes Velodrome. It was to be his final success in the Grande Boucle.
@ASO

@Presse Sports
Light-years behind the records of Eddy Merckx and nowhere near as famous as the three other five-time winners of the Tour de France, Jacques Anquetil, Bernard Hinault and Miguel Indurain, a total of 67 riders have worn the yellow jersey for just one day (or even less) in their careers and exemplified the pursuit of excellence from a humble start. In the 1931 Tour, Max Bulla snatched the overall lead at the end of stage 2, becoming the first —and only— touriste-routier to get his hands on the coveted yellow jersey. A monster performance.
Back then, the Tour had „aces“… and touristes-routiers („tourists of the road“). Just the names of these categories speak volumes about the low opinion people had of these unglamorous cyclists, who were only invited to the Grande Boucle to make up the numbers but still represented about half of the peloton at the start of the 1931 edition. As well as being excluded from national teams, these riders received no mechanical support and had to settle for participating in the Tour with little hope of shining at the front. While most of these „individual“ competitors were indeed a step or two below the champions, the main reason Max Bulla had to race in this category was that his country, Austria, lacked enough riders to field a team capable of rubbing shoulders with the elite.

The rouleur from Vienna had already shown his talent in the 1930 Deutschland Tour, as well as proving to be a serious contender in the 1929 Worlds until an ill-fated choice of gear left him unable to follow Ronsse and Binda. Despite these top-notch performances, Bulla started the second stage of the 1931 Tour in Caen as part of the „shadow peloton“, which was furthermore required to start 10 minutes after the stars to avoid getting in the way of the big men. However, the three strongest and bravest touristes-routiers managed to come close enough to the first peloton to post the fastest times at the finish in Dinan. Their performance catapulted Max Bulla from Austria, René Bernard from Paris and Adrien Van Vierst from Reims to the top of the general classification, with Bulla clad in yellow at the end of the day.

The next day, Henri Desgrange, who again poured scorn on the prima donnas in his column in L’Auto, had nothing but praise for Bulla: „We had the opportunity to follow Bulla throughout his endeavour. This harmonious lad who stays balanced and well seated on his saddle without letting his effort spoil the beauty of his movements looks like a real class act. He may not speak a single word of French, but his lithe figure and eyes sparkling with ingenuity, if not intelligence, leave nothing to be said. His unwavering cordiality, with a cheerful demeanour like Leducq’s, completes the delightful appearance of the new wearer of the yellow jersey.“ However, even the alluring maillot jaune did not save Bulla from having to start the next stage to Brest with the other touristes-routiers. The Austrian was unable to repeat the exploit of the previous day and slipped down the general classification. He went on to claim another two stages and finish the Tour in 15th place overall, first among the „individual“ riders. 84 years later, Austria has yet to see another one of its cyclists in yellow in the Tour.
@ASO

© 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. In 1994, the Mont Ventoux was the focal point of the stage to Carpentras, where Eros Poli, one of the worst climbers in the peloton, managed to win after a 171 kilometres alone at the front in a display of sheer Italian class.
He looked like a fish out of water, but he was about to land the catch of a lifetime! Eros Poli, the archetypical self-effacing rider, was perfectly comfortable with his role as a domestique. The indefatigable, powerful and devoted Italian was one of the cogs in the machine of Mario Cipollini, a sprinter who never failed to blast away from the opposition as long as his train put him in the right position. Whether it was pulling on long straights to shut down an escape or shepherding and protecting his captain from the wind in the finale, Eros was top of the class. In the mountains, he was also good at setting the right pace in the gruppetto to make sure the worst climbers in the peloton finished inside the time limit. The Giant from Verona was one of these dreadful mountain men. Seeing him in action in the stage from Montpellier to Carpentras seemed as far-fetched as seeing an anvil have a go at the 4×100 metres medley world record. Yet the 1994 was a bag of surprises.
It all started when “Cipo” suffered a nasty injury during the last edition of the Vuelta held in April. Without the flamboyant sprinter to rack up win after win in the first week of the Tour, Mercatone Uno had been flailing around like a fish out of water since the start in Lille. Eros decided to roll the dice with solo attacks, for example in the stage to Futuroscope, but was bested by stage hunters from GB-MG Maglificio. It was precisely one of them, Rolf Järmann, who attacked treacherously when most of the peloton had ground to a halt for a “technical stop”. This angered Eros Poli, who caught the insolent Swiss, dropped him and went on a solo adventure with 171 kilometres to go, as if he had forgotten that the Mont Ventoux stood in his way.
The lowly rider
The gamble seemed insane at first, but Eros Poli steadily worked to shorten the odds. As he reached the foot of the Bald Mountain with a margin of 23′45″, his objective became clear. He had to limit the damage to a minute per kilometre and crown the Mont Ventoux with about 4 minutes to spare if he was to win the stage. Poli dragged his 1.94 m, 87 kg frame up the roads of the mountain, sweating like an animal and grinding on despite Pantani jumping from the peloton and mounting a furious chase. He went over the top and started the descent to Carpentras, still 41 kilometres away. However, the toughest part was over for Poli, who had been part of the team that won gold in the team time trial in the Los Angeles Olympics and felt right at home chugging along on the flat. He ended up crossing the line with 3′39″ on the runner-up. The following day, Françoise Inizan from L’Équipe described Poli’s victory as a poetic and metaphorical work: “Eros Poli spared a delicate thought for all the lowly riders of the peloton. For all the anonymous assistants and loyal servants of their kings.”

© 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. In 1974, young Dutch rider Henk Poppe beat the top sprinters to claim the first ever Tour stage run in Britain. He was a true one-hit wonder!
It was 1974 and Merckx Mania was in full swing. It was hard to see who could deny Eddy his fifth overall win, especially with Luis Ocaña and Joop Zoetemelk injured and out of the race. The 61st edition of the Tour broke new ground, sending the peloton to British shores for the first time. Plymouth had the honour of hosting this historic stage. The powerful Molteni team had seized the reins of the race, first with Merckx after the prologue in Brest and then with Joseph Bruyère, who had gained time from a breakaway in the following stage. The Cannibal was as voracious as ever after the short boat trip, featuring in all the moves and battling for bonus seconds on the 14 laps of a circuit that included a road bypass.
The birth of a star?
While Merckx’s rivals for the overall refrained from challenging him during this stage, a fierce battle raged on among the sprinters. Barry Hoban, eager to impress in the first British outing of the Tour, was expected to take the fight to Patrick Sercu. Few people were watching the small Frisol team, a newcomer to the peloton that featured mainly generous Dutch rouleurs such as Fedor den Hertog and Cees Priem, but also a 22-year-old sprinter who flew under the radar despite his big frame: 1.87 m and 81 kg. It was the first Tour de France for Henk Poppe, but he was racing without any inhibitions. The young lad, a product of the Dutch cycling school, was able to go toe-to-toe with the Belgian veterans of a thousand criteriums, kermesses and village races. Merckx opened the final sprint, but it was Poppe who surged to beat Jacques Esclassan and Patrick Sercu. The birth of a star? Sercu handily regained control in the next few stages, with the young talent failing to finish higher than 14th, only to bow out in the Alpine stage to Serre-Chevalier. That was the end of his short Tour career… but that one victory will always be his.

© 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.