Tourmalet, Mortirolo, Angliru
The Tourmalet remains a symbol of endurance in a world that often feels demanding. Since an early ascent in 1989, the rider has celebrated milestones, crossing the thresholds of 30 Tours and 30 Vueltas, far ahead of many prominent names journalists track with interest. In that year, a Spanish bike model associated with Peter Delgado appeared with Miguel Induráin, a pairing that signaled a tough era for the sport and its fans.
There is a memory of the 20 Volta Catalan, when riders gathered in a hotel restaurant in La Cerdanya. The group split into teams as they prepared, a far cry from the days when meals happened inside team buses. The scene was lively: the road seemed alive as the riders passed by like elusive figures among plates of pasta and rice, while outsiders—tourists and others not tied to the Catalan race—rose to cheer on the procession.
Tourmalet, Mortirolo, Angliru
Tourmalet always points to a moment in time. It is not the most difficult climb in the bike world, yet it carries a certain magnetic pull. The Mortirolo in Italy and the Angliru in Asturias often come to mind as tougher tests, and they will be featured in the upcoming Vuelta. Still, Tourmalet possesses a rare talent, a legend that makes it stand out. The name is instantly recognizable, a badge that echoes across sports, sometimes provoking comparisons even when they aren’t welcome. People say that teams and leagues are shaped by such comparisons, and the mountain seems to carry a similar weight in the grand scheme of sport. Even for those who love cycling deeply, the allure of Tourmalet feels inseparable from the broader story of competition.
The preference here is to tackle the climb from the base, in the La Mongie basin, a spot that offers a direct line to the peak. It’s a climb that invites familiarity with every bend and gallery, a challenge that remains memorable whether approached by road or by bike. The appeal lies in knowing the route by heart, even as other pursuits—like viewing the race on screen or following it through a different lens—offer their own thrills.
Love for the mountain
The writer recalls a single ascent of Tourmalet up the Mongie hill, followed by a rest day as a new chapter opened. The journey involved people who helped shape the experience: a driver, a team director, and others connected to the sport. A cycling tour organized by a once-prominent group brought together German guests and enthusiasts, culminating in an invitation that turned a dream into reality, thanks to skilled leadership and a touch of magic.
Tourmalet is loved for what it represents beyond any single race. Even as this week’s edition of the Tour offers the familiar lineup of heroes, the summit remains unmatched in its energy and spirit. The climb invites unity and shared passion, and this bond with the Grande Boucle never fades.
host summit
The Tour de France director has always kept the climb central to the narrative, ensuring no moment is missed. High-profile visits, including a July appearance by a national leader abroad, have at times offered added flexibility and emphasized safety as a priority. The event is typically serene once the helicopter arrivals settle, and the energy shifts to a festive peak as spectators and participants soak in the moment.
This July, the celebration carries a simple, enduring message. The climb remains a podium of joy, where riders push through the toughest parts while the crowd creates a spontaneous party at the crest—proof that the Tour can be a festival as well as a race.