The Tour de France - a grueling endurance event without equal (wannafightaboutit?). 21 stages of racing (typically 3,500 kilometers or 2,200 miles) set across the first three weeks of July where cyclists (masochists really) navigate a mix of flats, mountain climbs, and time trials, testing their all-around abilities. It is unpredictable with crashes, weather conditions, and team tactics that can all dramatically alter individual results. And if the race itself isn’t captivating enough, “Le Tour” is a visual feast for gluttonous eyes (literal travel porn) with breathtaking routes and images broadcast directly via helicopters and “motos” showcasing stunning French landscapes…from the picturesque countryside to the majestic Alps and Pyrenees.

The Tour de France is one of the oldest and most prestigious cycling races in the world (first held in 1903). Each stage passes through idyllic towns and villages. It’s not just a cycling phenomenon, it serves as a celebration of French culture and their love of cycling. And every year I am swept up by that same amour du cyclisme. I consume all of it (ALL THE CYCLING!). I will watch stages live in the morning and rewatch them later in the evening (thank you Peacock app). My bucket list is literally one thing…travel to France, rent a caravan, make friends with some beer loving Belgians, and traverse the French country side to partake in this three-week spectacle. My summers literally begin and end with the tour. And on that final Sunday when Phil and Bob (RIP Paul) sign off for another year, I experience that grossly familiar gut punch..summer is over…time to go back to school.

(Future me 👇)

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