“We come to see people capable of anything”: when death stalks Tour de France riders

The riders will see the white mass from very far away. At first, in fits and starts. Around a bend. At the top of a hill. Between two trees. They will have to advance in a long and terrible procession towards the interminable 15.7 km climb at 8.8%, the final summit of stage 16. At the hamlet of Sainte-Colombe, it will still be okay. In the vineyards and orchards, the slope is gentle. Suddenly, at Saint-Estève, the road will rear up like a mad horse as it enters the pine forest. Then, at Chalet Reynard, nearly 6 km from the finish, the curse will begin: a wide, melting asphalt, battered by the mistral, across the limestone scree. Nothing to shelter in, no shade to linger, only a lunar expanse with the Observatory tower as its only focal point. It will seem almost close, accessible, but will always seem to recede. A mirage. A dream.

1.5 km from the summit, no rider will glance at the stele dedicated to Tom Simpson. They won't have the time, nor the energy. In 1967, the British rider died there , of a cardiac collapse, struck down on his bike by fatigue, amphetamines, the lack of supplies, the mountain. Since then, the highest point of the mountains