They say you never forget how to ride a bicycle. Federico Bahamontes put his away for good when he retired from the peloton in 1965. To maintain the legend he built and maintained with great care, the Spaniard swore he'd only ridden once after that. It was a sad day in May 1994, for a final tribute to Luis Ocaña, winner of the Tour de France in 1973.
Bahamontes died on Tuesday, August 8 at the age of 95, Toledo mayor Carlos Velasquez announced on social media. Born on July 9, 1928, in Val de Santo Domingo, Toledo province, he joins his compatriot Ocaña but also most of his rivals, friends and enemies, of yesterday: Louison Bobet, Jacques Anquetil, Roger Rivière, Gastone Nencini, Charly Gaul, Raymond Poulidor...
Winner of the 1959 Tour de France, "the Eagle of Toledo" – as he was described in 1957 by Jacques Goddet, the race's director – was the oldest living Tour winner. He had plenty of time to recount his great victories and defeats with a profusion of details, anecdotes and excuses typical of champions from an era of which little was broadcast on television.
"As a tribute to my Tour victory, I was the first to ride my bike on the pitch of the Bernabeu [Real Madrid's stadium]," he used to say, as if to remind us of his pioneering role. As the first Spanish winner of the Tour, he inspired the Fuente and Ocaña brothers in the 1970s and planted the seed that would later allow the triumphant Spain of Pedro Delgado, Miguel Indurain and Alberto Contador to flourish.
If "Spanish climber" has long sounded like a tautology, it's because Bahamontes shaped their reputation. As a young cyclist, he owed his qualities to the topography of his city: perched on a hill above the Tagus, the capital of Castilla-La Mancha offered the ideal terrain to develop climbers. Apprenticed in a bicycle repair shop, the teenager began to work his legs by working as a courier for Toledo's shopkeepers. L'Equipe journalist Pierre Chany compared his suppleness to that of a "flamenco dancer" when he saw him shimmy his long, lean body up the steep slopes of the Alps and Pyrenees.
Bahamontes also lived up to his reputation as a whimsical, even fanciful, rider. During his first Tour de France in 1954, he took the lead at the summit of the Col de Romeyère in the Alps, and took the time to enjoy an ice cream while waiting for his pursuers. No matter how often he insisted that he had allowed himself this ice cream break while waiting for mechanical assistance, the legend settled in.
The climber, who loved high gradients, was sublime one day, and quickly resigned the next, lacking interest in the overall race, which demands consistent efforts. He won the mountains classification six times, a record beaten only by Richard Virenque, who won it a seventh time in 2004. The Spaniard's pride took a hit. He said the Frenchman lacked the explosiveness and class of the great mountain conquerers like himself: "He's no match for me. I hope he doesn't mind, but if he's a climber, I'm Napoleon."
Bahamontes's finest hour on the Tour de France came in 1959. Having finished just short of the podium three years earlier, his hopes were dashed in 1958 after the first stages by a stomach ache he feared was the onset of appendicitis. After recovering, he was nonetheless the only rider to stay in Gaul's wheel in the Alps and win two stages.
Before taking the start in Mulhouse at the end of June 1959, Bahamontes, 31, made a vow: he was aiming for yellow, and nothing else. He and Gaul, the two best climbers of their generation, respected each other, even if the Spaniard considered the Luxembourger "a funny guy who watched couples at the hotel through the keyhole". Gaul fell behind in the overall standings of the 1959 Tour, but proved a valuable breakaway companion on the 17th stage between Saint-Etienne and Grenoble. Gaul won the stage, Bahamontes took the yellow jersey.
In the days that followed, Bahamontes faltered under the threat of Henri Anglade. Fortunately for the Spaniard, the French big shots, Anquetil, Rivière and Bobet, preferred to favor a foreigner rather than see a "little rider" from the Centre-Midi regional team triumph in their place.
In 1963, the Eagle of Toledo was still flying high, but finished second behind an untouchable Anquetil in the final time trial. The following year, he completed his collection with the only missing place on his list of honours: third.
After his career, he became the manager of a bicycle and moped store in Toledo, and enjoyed showing visitors around the museum dedicated to him. In 2009, he led Le Monde journalist Jean-Louis Aragon through the streets of his city where, he said, "they treat me like a king".
Nostalgia had become a faithful friend. In his memories, the sun burned his body, his hands were placed at the top of the handlebars, so he climbed the Aubisque, the Télégraphe or the Izoard again and again, alone in the lead of course. "I relive those moments every day," he confessed. "I still get such a thrill out of it all, and following today's races, seeing the places I've been, I get goosebumps and I'm happy." Today, Spain is less so.
Translation of an original article published in French on lemonde.fr; the publisher may only be liable for the French version.