The Pilgrimage Begins

At 4 AM on a July morning, headlights pierce the darkness on the road to Alpe d'Huez. Cars, campervans, and motorcycles snake up the twenty-one hairpin bends, their occupants beginning a pilgrimage that millions undertake each summer. These are the Tour's true believers—fans who travel thousands of kilometers, spend their vacation days, and endure sleepless nights for a few seconds' glimpse of their heroes. Understanding the Tour requires understanding these pilgrims and the experiences they seek.

The roadside community that forms hours before the race arrives represents a cross-section of society rarely found elsewhere. Dutch families in orange-painted campervans park next to Basque supporters with their ikurriña flags. British cycling clubs in matching jerseys share breakfast with Italian tifosi. Corporate executives on expensive carbon bikes mingle with local farmers who've cycled up on ancient steel frames. For these few hours, the mountain becomes a temporary nation united by shared passion.

The Ritual of Place

Securing a viewing spot involves careful strategy and often considerable sacrifice. The most dedicated fans arrive days early, camping in campervans or tents, establishing temporary communities on mountain passes. They bring generators, televisions, and elaborate cooking setups, transforming barren roadsides into festival grounds. The best corners—where riders slow to navigate hairpins, where attacks traditionally launch—become prime real estate claimed through occupation.

These positions aren't chosen randomly. Veteran spectators know where television cameras linger, where riders struggle most visibly, where race dynamics often shift. Dutch Corner on Alpe d'Huez, the Chalet Reynard on Mont Ventoux, the Tourmalet's summit—these locations have mythic significance earned through decades of dramatic racing. Claiming space there connects spectators to cycling history.