The First Tour de France by Peter Cossins

Author:Peter Cossins
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: PublicAffairs
Published: 2017-06-06T04:00:00+00:00

110. Colonna from Marseille

111. Marcel ‘Valpic’ Vallée-Picaud from Paris

Once arrived at the Café du Mûrier in Saint-Antoine, Abran takes a rollcall to check that none of the riders has sneaked off into the darkness to get a head start. At half past ten, Abran unrolls his yellow flag and waves the first group of 32 riders away. Despite the wind drilling into their faces, they are as keen to get going as they were on the first two stages. Within a few seconds, and despite the full moon, the night has consumed them.

There’s an incident almost immediately as Ernest Pivin punctures, a victim of tacks scattered on the road. L’Auto offers no mention of the incident, Le Vélo just a brief one in passing. Was it mindless vandalism or a deliberate attempt to scupper the hopes of a favourite?

It is impossible to escape the incessant force of the mistral. It takes the leaders 45 minutes to cover the opening 23 kilometres to Vitrolles, where the spectators must be applauded for staying out to cheer them on in such conditions. The two general classification favourites, Garin and Georget, watch each other closely, staying near the front of the group but trying not to sit out in the wind for too long.

At least they don’t have to worry about Aucouturier, who has made it known that he’s only planning to ride the early part of the stage with a view to saving himself for the easier ones to come later in the race. They aren’t to know yet that this is nothing more than a ruse, that the stage-2 victor is attempting to bluff them into riding a little slower. He’s even fitted a smaller gear than usual in order to let his legs spin more and take some of the sting out of the mistral’s sapping blast.

Almost two hours pass before the lead group of 16 riders reaches the control in Salon’s Café de l’Avenir after 49 kilometres. Following unseemly scenes between riders and crowding by fans at the same establishment during Marseille–Paris, barriers have been placed at the entrance, but it’s inside where the problems occur. Already fatigued, hungry and mightily thirsty, more than a dozen pairs of hands make a grab for the two pens and the sheets of paper on the officials’ table.

Ink gets spilled and glasses knocked over and smashed as the sweaty, dust-coated riders are close to fighting for the chance to sign, then to grab food and drink. Every few moments another one or two appear and add to the deafening chaos. Someone yells out that Garin has disappeared, with La Française riders Anton Jaeck and Jean Fischer on his heels, and there’s a stampede for the door. Peace returns to the cafe.

There’s far less clamour 50 minutes later with the arrival of Aucouturier, Pagie and Valpic, as Marcel Vallée-Picaud is commonly known. The latter has been signed up as a correspondent by La Provence Sportive and offers a rider’s-eye view of the battle against the mistral.

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