Through Storm and Stone: The Hardest Stage of the Tour de France

In the dark hours before dawn, on a rain-lashed summer morning in 1926, the riders of the Tour de France stood ready in Bayonne, faces etched with grim resolve.

Their task lay in a single, unforgiving line of mountains—the Aubisque, the Tourmalet, the Aspin, the Peyresourde—326 kilometers of tortuous terrain that would stretch their endurance and determination beyond all reason.

What they faced would become legendary, remembered not only as the hardest stage of the Tour de France but as a crucible that forged champions in blood, mud, and heart.

Henri Desgrange’s Vision of Bravery and Bravado

Henri Desgrange, the Tour’s exacting founder, was notorious for his insistence on pushing riders to their physical and mental limits.

To him, the Tour was more than a race. The Tour was a trial of spirit, designed to strip away weakness and elevate only the strongest. But even Desgrange, with his appetite for spectacle, could not have foreseen the brutal conditions awaiting the cyclists on that July morning in 1926.

As the storm gathered in the Pyrenees, the scene was set for an unprecedented display of endurance and grit.

The riders had barely begun when they found themselves battling a fierce gale that threatened to push them back with each stroke of the pedal. Clouds poured forth sheets of icy rain, the paths turned into rivers, and the mud seemed as though it would swallow their thin tires whole.

This wasn’t a mere stage, this was a descent into a cycling purgatory.

The Pyrenean Giants: Aubisque, Tourmalet, Aspin, and Peyresourde

The 10th stage of the 1926 Tour de France led riders through the imposing Pyrenean peaks, infamous for their relentless ascents.

The first of these giants, the Aubisque, rose steep and slippery under the pounding rain. Riders climbed, hunched forward against the pelting winds, the cold stinging their faces, breaths visible in clouds.

One after another, men found themselves slipping, some dismounting, others already wondering if it was worth the risk to continue.

In the words of one journalist who witnessed the scene, “It was as if the Pyrenees themselves were bent on defeating every last rider.”

Yet through the storm’s fury, one figure emerged with singular determination—Lucien Buysse, a Belgian whose resilience would come to define this day.

Buysse, who had fallen behind leader Gustave Van Slembrouck in previous stages, pushed himself to the front in an extraordinary bid. With each stroke, he seemed to draw strength not from the terrain but from some deeper, almost unbreakable resolve. Only the first mountain lay behind him, three more waited, each a new torment, and he pressed on as the elements conspired against him.

A Hero in the Storm: Lucien Buysse’s Journey Through the Tempest

Buysse’s ride through the storm became a story for the ages, one that transcended the sport itself. As he neared the summit of the Tourmalet, the storm unleashed its full might, battering the riders with sleet and wind so fierce it cut through their wool jerseys.

He would later admit that even he questioned whether it was possible to go on, but stopping was never truly an option.

His drive, however, came from a place deeper than the hunger for victory. Buysse had suffered a recent tragedy, the loss of his young daughter, and he rode with the weight of grief heavy on his shoulders.

That day, his ride became an act of homage, an offering to the memory of a life too short. The relentless climbs, the shivering cold, the punishing pace—all of it he endured with a strength that could only come from the heart.

Behind him, other riders struggled, many unable to keep pace. Some sought refuge in the shepherd huts dotting the mountainside, their dreams of the Tour shattered in the unyielding storm. Yet Buysse pressed on, grinding through the treacherous passes as the hours stretched into eternity.

Survival, Endurance, and the Limits of Sport

By the time Buysse approached Luchon, he was 25 minutes and 48 seconds ahead of his nearest competitor, Bartolomeo Aimo. Only 54 of the original 76 riders would finish the stage. Others had abandoned, some hospitalized or injured.

In the words of another rider, “This was not sport—it was survival.” Journalists questioned whether such extreme conditions, indeed, fell under the banner of sport or if it had transcended into something harsher, perhaps even inhumane.

And yet, for Desgrange and many fans of the era, this was the essence of the Tour de France: the hardest stage demanded the hardest riders. The triumph of those who completed the stage was magnified by the shared knowledge that they had endured not only their rivals but the raw and untamable fury of nature itself.

The Legendary Finish and a Monumental Victory

Buysse crossed the finish line in Luchon to the astonishment of onlookers, not only as a winner but as a symbol of resilience. His ride on that day went beyond cycling. It became a testament to the indomitable spirit that the Tour de France, at its core, seeks to uncover.

His 25-minute lead was more than just a margin of victory—it was a monument to what he had endured and a lasting reminder of the sacrifice and grit that the sport demands.

In the following stages, Buysse would continue to dominate, eventually winning the 1926 Tour by a wide margin. His performance in the Pyrenees became the stuff of legend, not simply for the win, but for the grace and determination he exhibited under such adversity.

The Legacy of Lucien Buysse and the Mountain that Bore Witness

In years to come, Buysse would open a café named after the Aubisque, a quiet homage to the mountain that, on that fateful day, had become both his adversary and his muse.

The mountain stands today as a hallowed symbol of the hardest stage of the Tour de France, a reminder of the men who dared to confront its peaks in a time when the roads were rougher, the bikes heavier, and the conditions merciless.

A bust of Buysse now resides atop the Aubisque, a silent witness to the history he etched into the rock and wind that day. His legacy endures, not only in the records of cycling but in the fabric of the Pyrenees, where legends are born and where, sometimes, the hardest stage of the Tour de France reveals not only champions but heroes.

For the riders of the Tour de France, that stage remains a symbol—a reminder that cycling’s greatest feats are not won merely with muscle but with heart and spirit, tested in the hardest of places.