The Great Federico Ezquerra
There was a time when type and daring lived side by side. He pushed his limits, even chasing France in a relentless pursuit of something elusive, sometimes nearly reckless. Travel by air or rail was rare, and journeys from Bilbao to Paris felt like long odysseys through smoke, noise, and a stubborn pace. Yet those miles offered landscapes to admire and a sense of purpose about taking part in the toughest race the world talked about, a race interrupted only by a great war.
Relating to
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Stage 10 of the Tour de France 2023: the stage’s schedule, route and profile
The figure who lately rose again in Volta leadership briefly lingers in the background of a rider few know well. A Basque icon named Federico Ezquerra emerges as a hero among early pioneers who headed toward the French outskirts to lay the groundwork for generations yet to come.
The great Federico Ezquerra
Ezquerra, a trailblazer who achieved more than many expected, made it to Paris with a strong showing, finishing seventeenth overall in 1936. The task was hardly easy, as the country faced upheaval that year. Remarkably, he single-handedly won the Nice to Cannes stage on July 19, just after the war began. In the following year, amidst the clash between those who desired darkness in Spain and those who stood with the Republic, another Tour rolled on.
His contemporary and good friend Jesus Derrit did not share the same bright arc. Born in Bilbao in 1909 and passing away in Getxo in 1988, Derrit faced conditions that kept him from claiming a full lap finish.
With the suitcase in reserve
Ezquerra arrived in Paris a few days before the Tour’s start, sleeping in a garage with his bike and suitcase. The space belonged to a Biscayan friend who had set up in the French capital. The Basque appetite for home flavors clashed with the local fare, which flowed with butter; oil was scarce. Without a doctor to ease his stomach, a masseur to warm his muscles, or a mechanic to tend to the bike, he set out for the first stage—the Paris to Caen route, spanning 206 kilometers. He rode among a notable Spanish contingent, including Salvador Cardona, Vincent Trueba, and Francisco Cepeda. Trueba, known as the Torrelavega Flea, had already claimed the Tur mountain crown in 1933, while Cardona led the standings after finishing fourth in the prior year. Cardona later became a French citizen and died in Pau in 1985. Cardona’s fellow racer Trueba faced a harsher fate, dying in Grenoble in 1935 after a fall on Galibier’s slope—an early tragedy in Tour history.
Happy butter
Dermit, the patient racer, managed to finish the first stage. He crossed the line in eighteenth place at 18.38, trailing the era’s yellow-jersey standard bearer, Charles Pelissier. But the second stage proved a long struggle, and the butter-like fatigue began to dominate. He never led the Vuelta or the Giro, and his tally included victories in five local Biscayan races. The question lingers: how would he have fared if travel had been easier, if he had slept in a hotel, and if he had eaten properly before his Tour debut?
There was a time when the urge to race carried people toward France and beyond in search of something larger than themselves. Air travel and trains were scarce, making the Bilbao to Paris journey a testament to perseverance. The endless journey—filled with smoke, noise, and a pace that seemed to defy time—offered a chance to glimpse landscapes and to contemplate the role a rider could play in that most grueling race the world discussed, a race paused only by a great war.
Relating to
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Stage 10 of the Tour de France 2023: the stage’s schedule, route and profile
The picture of Ezquerra and his era returns, hinting at a life woven with stubborn determination and shared stories among Basque cyclists who crossed borders to push the limits of endurance. The narrative continues with the memory of a pioneer who refused to surrender to the odds and kept the flame alive for those who followed.
The great Federico Ezquerra
In a reflection on his career, Ezquerra’s path stands out as greater than his early contemporary, Derrit. He reached Paris with a respectable finish in 1936, navigating a world on the brink of upheaval. He seized a remarkable stage win from Nice to Cannes on July 19, just after war began, and his example helped shape the Tour’s modern myth. The coming year saw more conflict, yet the Tour persisted, carried by riders who believed in the pursuit of excellence under pressure.
Derrit’s own story remained less luminous. Born in Bilbao in 1909 and dying in Getxo in 1988, his racing tenure was constrained by the same turbulent conditions that affected so many of his peers, preventing him from finishing a full Tour lap.
With the suitcase in reserve
The Paris arrival, the garage lodging, and the suitcase became a small legend in their own right. The local cuisine challenged Ezquerra, whose stomach longed for Basque dishes rather than the butter-heavy fare of the era. Oil was scarce, and a doctor, masseur, and mechanic were often absent. Yet the decision to press on defined the spirit of that first stage, Paris to Caen, a 206-kilometer test. Among his teammates were other notable Spaniards, including Cardona, Trueba, and Cepeda. Trueba, the Torrelavega Flea, had claimed the Tur mountain crown in 1933. Cardona, the leader in the overall standings at times, later became French and died in Pau in 1985. A mobile-era tragedy struck when Cardona died in Grenoble in 1935 after a fall on Galibier’s slope, marking the Tour’s first fatality.
Happy butter
Dermit, the patient, completed the first stage, finishing behind the initial yellow jersey holder, Pelissier, at 18.38 minutes. The butter-like fatigue pressed on throughout the second stage, forcing him to yield to the demanding pace. He never led the Vuelta or the Giro. His record shows wins in several Biscayan races, yet the question persists: what if the journey had been different, if he had traveled with better comforts and rested properly before his Tour debut?