Victories have long been anticipated, and in the Tour de France they arrive much like autumn mushrooms sprout after rain—sudden, surprising, and deeply earned through persistence. Cofidis’ director, a steady co-pilot on the team’s journey, shouted encouragement from the sidelines as Ion Izagirre rode with unshakable focus. He spoke in Basque, a coded message meant to keep rivals guessing, while the crowd absorbed a moment that felt both intimate and epic. After a five-year wait for a Spanish triumph, Basque legs delivered not a single win but a sequence of victories, quietly renewing confidence that seems to grow with every conquest and every effort on the road.
In the imagined pages of Guillaume Martin’s books or when the philosopher-turned-cyclist speaks through a play, there would be a moment where the scene centers on how he held the pace behind his teammate Izagirre. He would describe the brightness and intensity radiating from eight riders surrounding them, tempered by a shared resolve. For those who doubted the 34-year-old Gipuzkoan, who has weathered countless battles and remains among the sport’s springtime elite, the successive wins spoke louder than any doubt. Before sealing a triumph amid the Beaujolais vineyards, Izagirre had already left his mark in the Tour, the Giro, and the Vuelta, earning a place in an exclusive circle of classy cyclists who can flicker into contention in a single moment.
In 2016, he triumphed in Morzine, a taste of terrain that this year’s Tour would again challenge on a Saturday. Like seven years earlier, he navigated the wet, winding descent from the Joux Plane, a day etched in memory for its brutal rain and demanding lines. He repeated similar feats at the Giro and the Vuelta, with Formigal in 2012 and the 2020 Tour contrasting with the moment when the Aragon ski resort became a symbol of endurance. The Tour was halted that year, not by a drop in form but by the world grinding to a stop as the pandemic reshaped the season.
It wasn’t an easy day as pressure pressed at every turn, and Jonas Vingegaard and Tadej Pogacar appeared reluctant to reveal their full strength in this Friday’s duel. In the midst of the struggle, Ion Izagirre, a gritty rider who has faced the fiercest conditions, emerged as a decisive factor. An experienced racer who understands the need to press the attack on Croix Rosier, the last major climb of the day, with his back shield intact. With 31 kilometers to go, victory did not look guaranteed, yet his determination, power, and bravery kept him in contention and sculpted the day’s narrative.
Izagirre found a way to reinvent himself, savoring the warmth of spectators and recalling the small Gipuzkoan towns where his journey began. Ormaiztegi—an oft-overlooked town with around 1,200 residents—provided the backdrop where Ion and his brother Gorka Izagirre, another rider who once led Movistar, cut their teeth. The same region that produced Tomas de Zumalacárregui, a leader of a former era, underscored a long-standing Basque cycling heritage that continues to shape the sport today.
Named a Biscayan from Bilbao before becoming a Gipuzkoan in spirit, Izagirre spoke about the day’s meaning in a refrain that sounded like a declaration of identity. “It’s a Basque Tour,” he remarked after the victory, noting that they had left home and carved out wins from their own soil. He spoke in a blend of Spanish and French—the language of leadership within the team, which reflects Basque roots—before the moment culminated in a release of emotion. He cried, embraced those close to him, and let joy spill over as the team and fans celebrated the triumph. “Let the party continue,” he said with a smile before stepping back into the rhythm of the ride. [Citation: Basque cycling heritage and race narratives]