Nothing and Nobody Can Outfox ‘the Badger’ (1977–86)
The departure of Merckx from the scene allowed others to breathe and alternative storylines and characters to develop, for a while anyway, before the arrival of another dominating rider in Bernard Hinault who was to produce some of his greatest rides at the Giro d’Italia. The mix in 1977 was eclectic to say the least. The reigning world champion Freddy Maertens was the ‘foreign raider’ and, although known primarily as the world’s best sprinter and a serial stage winner, he possessed the all-round ability to contest GC races as well. In 1976 he had finished eighth at the Tour de France and just before he arrived in Italy Maertens claimed the best stage win of his career by taking the GC at the Vuelta a España. Admittedly it was the flattest Vuelta in history as Maertens helped himself to a remarkable 12 stage wins but he always possessed unusually good endurance for a sprinter. He would clearly dominate the early flat stages in the Giro a few weeks later but could he hang tough in the mountains as well? A rugged, volatile Flandrian, Maertens had a history of doping although he insisted never in Grand Tours – and there were also admissions of heavy drinking. He was box office, though, a character and a flamboyant but consistent stage winner. Indeed, he always claims his 54 wins in 1976 should be considered the biggest annual haul in road-racing history, arguing it was superior to the 54 Merckx also claimed for 1971 which included three track events.
Lined up against Maertens was the stylish Francesco Moser, the latest big Italian hope who was coming into the form of his life; indeed, he was to win the World Championship a few months later at San Cristóbal, Venezuela. Moser was to become a big ‘player’; in the Giro, in the ten seasons from 1977 to 1986 he claimed six podium places, including a win in 1984, but he was generally riding slightly against the odds. A superlative time-trial rider, Moser was a big, hefty man by cycling standards and, although he could often channel that power successfully on the climbs, the possibility of a bad day in the mountains was never far away. He was generally walking a tightrope but the prospect of the brilliant natural sprinter and the exceptional natural time-trial rider having to effectively fight out the maglia rosa in the mountains was intriguing and full of potential for the spectator.
The rider nobody had really factored in was Belgium’s Michel Pollentier, Maertens’s gregario di lusso, who had twice finished seventh at the Tour de France, in 1974 and 1976. Pollentier was to achieve lifelong notoriety in 1978 when he was thrown off the Tour de France when taking the yellow jersey at the top of the Alpe d’Huez climb for attempting to supply a false urine sample. The Belgian filled a condom with an untainted sample and concealed it under his armpit where it was attached to a tube from which he intended to provide the sample. Unsurprisingly he was rumbled and ejected from the race.
That lay in the future. Back in 1977 he was seen mainly as Maertens’ sidekick and initially the race progressed as predicted with seven early stage wins for the insatiable Maertens before he crashed and broke his wrist on a seemingly innocuous half-stage at the motor-racing track in Mugello when he tangled with Rik Van Linden at the finish, gunning for his eighth win of the Giro. In an instant his race was over and although the consistent Pollentier was well placed in second, 55 seconds behind Moser, Maertens’s crash seemed to herald an all-Italian clash between Moser and Giambattista Baronchelli. The high mountains beckoned. Could Moser perform well enough to hold off Baronchelli, the more natural climber?
Instead, it was Pollentier who proved to be the strongest in the mountains where he also cleverly used Baronchelli’s enmity with Moser to his advantage. On stage 18, a long mountainous run from Cortina d’Ampezzo to Pinzolo, he made a temporary pact with Baronchelli to distance Moser by 85 seconds, with Baronchelli winning the stage and Pollentier finishing by his side. The following day, meanwhile, Pollentier earned extra valuable seconds and went into the final stage – a 29km time trial – with a lead of 2 minutes 2 seconds. It was too short a distance even for a superlative TT rider like Moser to mount a proper challenge, and indeed he seemed to lose heart and suffered the indignity of coming second by 30 seconds to the Belgian. In view of what happened the following year it’s impossible not to view Pollentier’s performances at the 1977 Giro with a degree of scepticism although, equally, if he was doping he almost certainly wasn’t the only one.
Belgium was to claim its seventh Giro win in 11 seasons – from three riders – in 1978 when Johan De Muynck sneaked away from the slumbering peloton on stage three and defended the jersey all the way back to Milan in a fairly nondescript race that had started two weeks earlier than usual to avoid clashing with the 1978 Football World Cup which began in Argentina on 1 June. The chief interest probably came in seeing the veteran Gimondi, the three-time winner but no longer a GC candidate, riding strongly and intelligently in support of his Bianchi colleague De Muynck who took his chance on the final climb and descent into Cascina on stage three. It was one of those moments that can only really be explained by a momentary loss in concentration as the main contenders seemed content to let a man who had finished second overall in 1976 to nick a 52-second lead. As it happened he won the race nearly three weeks later by 59 seconds. A strong climber, and with Gimondi watching his back, the Belgian rarely seemed under pressure despite the narrow margin, but it wasn’t a Giro to live in the memory. The race did not match its grand setting and not for the first time the Giro started looking round for a star or for ways of manufacturing a greater level of excitement.
By 1979 there had only been two Italian winners in the preceding nine years and back-to-back wins by two relatively low-key Belgians particularly stuck in the craw. At least when Merckx won his presence and place atop the podium conferred status and majesty on the Giro. There was reflected glory but it was difficult to find much glory in wins by Pollentier and De Muynck. Torriani was well aware of this and came up with the none too subtle ruse of including no fewer than five time trial stages totalling 136km for the 1979 Giro. In a decidedly flat first half of the race it was stage 11 before it was even to poke its head above the humble 1,000m mark. This was clearly a course designed with the popular Moser in mind but with the added advantage that it also suited a new Italian star – Giuseppe Saronni – and their bitter rivalry very much appealed to the tifosi. It wasn’t quite Girardengo versus Binda or Bartali against Coppi but there was a real animosity between the two that provided a compelling subplot and frisson whenever they rode.
Saronni, from Novara in Piedmont, had competed as an 18-year-old in the Team Pursuit at the Montreal Olympics and confirmed his promise two years later the 1978 Giro when he won three stages and competed gamely to the end to finish an excellent fifth. The new French superstar Bernard Hinault, sensational winner of the 1978 Tour de France, didn’t yet fancy doubling up with an early season Giro so the 1979 Giro field was relatively clear for the domestic riders to take centre stage. So clearly was it a time-trialler’s Giro that the Magniflex–Famcucine team, home of those fine climbers and Grand Tour veterans Baronchelli and Alfio Vandi, immediately handed over the team leadership to Swedish time-trial specialist Bernt Johansson who was to eventually finish third behind the Italian duo.
The race made a curious start with many members of the peloton suffering badly from conjunctivitis, as in indeed were many fans after an outbreak of the infection in northern Italy. Some medical experts even suggested that the race be cancelled or postponed to avert the possibility of spreading it unnecessarily around the country. That was probably never a serious option but certainly the Inoxeran team was so badly affected that five of their riders, including their GC man Giovanni Battaglin, were forced to withdraw the day before the race.
The 28km time trial from Rimini to San Marino on stage eight, taking in the Monte Titano (739m) climb was an early game-changer with Saronni proving a strong TT rider when the road went uphill and the 84 seconds he gained on Moser put him in the box seat for the rest of the race, wearing pink all the way to the finish. Although he closed out the victory with another prestigious win over Moser in the long 44km TT on the final day from Cesano Moderno into Milan, it was never quite as simple as that because, although the mountainous stages in the final week were modest by normal Giro standards, they were still testing enough for two useful but by no means stellar climbers to be wary. One bad day and they could not only lose out to each other but a third rider might become a factor. It made for a compelling spectacle with both Saronni and Moser close to their limits and wary of any unexpected challengers.
Saronni was off the mark with a popular Giro win but in truth the race was marking time until the Giro debut of cycling’s next big superstar, the volatile Bernard Hinault. By the start of the 1980 season the aggressive and indomitable Breton, aged 25, had already won the Tour de France twice and also had a GC win at the Vuelta on his palmares. He had conquered both Grand Tours on his first attempt and saw no reason why he shouldn’t repeat the hat-trick at the Giro, something no rider had ever achieved, not even the remarkable Merckx. Hinault had big plans for 1980 generally, wanting to equal the Merckx achievement of winning the Giro, Tour and World Championships in the same season. He might have arrived in Italy as a debutant but he was a strong favourite and a marked man right from the off.
Hinault and that canniest of all directeurs sportifs Cyrille Guimard knew that in extremis the entire Italian peloton was likely to ride against him rather than let a Giro debutant from France walk off with the honours. Emotions would be running high so together they embarked on a minor charm offensive with the media ahead of the race. Guimard embarked on a crash course in Italian so he could both talk to the media and understand, to a certain extent, what was being said to and about his star rider. Meanwhile, Hinault banked much goodwill and credit from the fans for taking time out after a gentle Prologue opener in Genoa to visit the grave of Coppi in Castellania and visiting the campionissimo’s brother Livio who still lived in the village. The Gazzetta photographer was, of course, on hand to record and publicise this ‘private’ visit.
It was a good, diplomatic start by Hinault but the gloves soon came off when he claimed the maglia rosa in fine style after a longish time trial on stage four, finishing just 14 seconds behind Jörgen Marcussen but a full minute ahead of TT specialist Moser and 2 minutes ahead of Saronni who was also normally so reliable in time trials. The die was cast. If the highly touted Italian duo couldn’t match Hinault on such a favourable stage, what hope was there for them come the high mountains where Hinault was unlikely to crack? It was with that thought in mind that Moser made the unlikely suggestion via the media that he and Saronni – and their teams – unite in common cause against Hinault. Anything but a French win. This potentially was quite serious because Hinault’s Renault team were comparatively young and inexperienced and defending the jersey against such a twin-pronged attack would be a massive task. Instead, in an absolute masterstroke, Hinault essentially gifted the maglia rosa two days later to a talented and very ambitious young Italian, Roberto Visentini, who was allowed to animate a break on the road to Orvieto and take the overall lead. Hinault slipped quietly down to eighth in GC at 2.58 and Renault made no attempt to regain that time the following week; indeed, he subtly rode in support of Visentini which well and truly called Moser and Saronni’s bluff. For that duo there was only one scenario that could possibly be worse than a thumping Hinault win and that would be a surprise and glorious victory by a thrusting young Italian who would then threaten the domestic duopoly they enjoyed. Suddenly they had to look after their own interests again and the united front against Hinault quickly cracked.
Hinault and Guimard continued to play a tactical blinder. A mighty Stelvio day had been planned for stage 20 and such was his dominance that Hinault could almost certainly have recouped all of his time in one fell swoop there but it was leaving things a little late. Things could go wrong. The weather could intervene and see the Stelvio ascent cancelled while Torriani had added a twist to the normal Stelvio tale by situating the finish at Sondrio, some 80m from the summit, which theoretically would allow inferior climbers like Moser and Saronni the opportunity to chase Hinault down and limit their losses. This was a Giro when all concerned had to keep their wits about them. Ideally what Hinault needed was a pre-emptive strike to recoup most of the time before the race’s denouement on the Stelvio.
Stage 14 presented the ideal opportunity, a typically rugged run across the Abruzzo Mountains from Foggia to Roccaraso taking in three or four stiff climbs. Throughout the race Renault’s sprinter Pierre-Raymond Villemiane had been having a dart at the intermediate sprints so no alarm bells rang when Hinualt, never afraid to help deserving and devoted workers, led out his gregario at Isernia where Villemiane claimed the modest daily prize in the Fiat Panda competitions. Everything seemed tranquillo except this time, as the peloton relaxed, as they habitually do after an intermediate sprint, Hinault attacked viciously and headed for the hills of the Rionero Sannitico and the Roccaraso. It was classic Hinault. When in doubt attack and yet again he had outfoxed his main rivals. Only Wladimiro Panizza, a very fine climber and an underrated performer generally, could stay with Hinault who was basically taking on an entire Italian peloton single-handed minus his Renault team-mates who were either soft pedalling at the back or blocking for all they were worth at the front of the bunch. Hinault took the stage and better still his planned attack had projected Panizza into the pink jersey which gave Moser and Saronni yet another headache. The young Visentini meanwhile cracked altogether but was to feature prominently in future Giri.
And so to stage 20 – the Stelvio – and another classic ride straight from the coaching manual from Hinault, with Guimard, of course, in the background, planning and plotting. On the morning of the stage Panizza led GC by 1 minute 8 seconds with Hinault in second place and Giovanni Battaglin another 17 seconds back. These were the only three realistic contenders. One way or another Moser, Saronni and Visentini had been routed but the race still needed to be closed out. Panizza was very strong in the high mountains and Battaglin was a remorseless stayer who would have to be broken. Unless Hinault could put a considerable distance between himself and that duo at the top of the Stelvio he could yet be in trouble because the Italian peloton, when push came to shove, would undoubtedly put domestic rivalries and squabbles behind them and unite and ride eyeballs out over that final 80km to try and rescue a win for either Panizza or Battaglin. What Hinault ideally needed was a Renault team-mate up the road in a break who could then unite with Hinault for that long, testing final stretch into Sondrio. That would even things up a little but how to execute such a plan?
Jean-René Bernardeau was the key, a talented if mercurial young French rider who had entered the 1980 Giro with a heavy heart. His brother had died just before the start of the race and he had wanted to withdraw but Hinault had cajoled his young compatriot into staying on. Bernardeau on a good day was one of the stronger Renault riders. Hinault would definitely need his assistance and now, right at the end of the race, came an opportunity to produce a ride that would honour his brother’s memory. The plan was for Bernardeau to get into a break well ahead of the Stelvio itself but to keep just a little in reserve – not at all easy on a climb that intrinsically demands so much – so that when Hinault launched his own attack lower down the mountain, he would be on hand to ride when Hinault bridged the gap. If that could be accomplished Bernardeau would then hopefully have enough left in the tank to ride into Sondrio with his team leader.
Such plans can be fraught but on this occasion it worked perfectly. Bernardeau, enjoying his best ever day on a bike, not only managed to animate the six-man break, which reached the bottom of the Stelvio climb 6 minutes ahead of the pack, but he then moved smoothly to the front and distanced his fellow escapees. Meanwhile, lower down the mountain Hinault went to work with possibly the most savage, concerted attack of his extraordinary career. Three times he put the hammer down and eventually the elite group cracked, even a hardened climber like Panizza. Bernardeau reached the summit first with Hinault not far behind and the chasing bunch nearly 4 minutes down the mountain. Soon Bernardeau was joined by Hinault and, resisting the temptation to look back, they took their relentless turns all the way down to the finish where Hinault gratefully gifted the stage win to his deserving helper. Somewhat clutching at straws the Italian media thought this rather condescending and arrogant on Hinault’s part but it was a well-established tradition in all the Grand Tours when a great service had been rendered by a gregario, and if anybody deserved the glory it was the grieving Bernardeau.
The 1980 Giro had been won in masterful fashion by one of the most complete riders – physically, tactically and temperamentally – in cycling history. Indeed, there are some who bracket Hinault with Merckx himself at the top of the pantheon and his 1980 Giro victory is one of the races they cite in support of that claim. Hinault was in extraordinary form that year and although a knee injury forced him to quit the Tour de France mid-race, while in yellow, he returned to win the World Championship at Sallanches. Hinault was in his pomp and the Giro had seen the very best of him.
With Hinault absenting himself from the Giro the following year, 1981, there was an opportunity for other riders to have their own shot at glory, none more so than the persevering Giovanni Battaglin who probably realised that, as he approached 30, it was now or never. Battaglin had been there or thereabouts for a while and had finished third in the Giro as far back as 1973, a feat he repeated in 1980 behind the imperious Hinault. He was a man who could ride hard in the mountains and stay competitive in the time trial but objectively, compared with the greats of the sport, he was unexceptional. Yet suddenly, almost from nowhere, he enjoyed his annus mirabilis in 1981 winning both the Vuelta and Giro, a double only ever achieved previously by Eddy Merckx. For 47 days that year, from the start of the Vuelta on 21 April and the end of Giro on 7 June, Battaglin reigned supreme, albeit Hinault was also missing from the Vuelta. Sensing a Giro course that had been designed with Saronni specifically in mind, with 30-second time bonuses for stage winners, Battaglin and his Inoxpran team had initially targeted just the Vuelta but despite the shortest of turnarounds found himself in good form at the Giro. Riding conservatively to start with, and with nothing to lose, he then produced two powerhouse displays in the two Dolomites stages to go into the decisive 42km TT in Verona with a 50-second lead over Tommy Prim and a 59-second advantage over Saronni. The latter was still the marginal favourite but it was going to be close and Inoxpran DS Davide Boifava was wary of possible sabotage by the tifosi and, indeed, interfering race officials. With that in mind he informed Torriani that an Inoxpran team car would follow Saronni at a discreet distance on the course and film his ride to ensure fair play. Distrust or paranoia? Who knows, but this was the atmosphere in which Giro races were often conducted. As it happened the stage went off without controversy and a third place on the day from Battaglin, 1 second ahead of Saronni, was more than enough to secure overall victory.
Hinault, with the Giro/Tour double very much on his mind, returned the following year and the 1982 route, generously laden with time trials plus a potentially decisive Dolomites stage late in the final week, suited him nicely. He had no weaknesses, nothing to fear, but he also made clear at the pre-race press conferences that the double that had eluded him in 1980 was his priority and that he was looking to win without alarm or undue exertion. For the best part of the race the Giro, with many of the peloton cowed by the presence of Hinault, proceeded without too much excitement or intrigue but that all changed on stage 17, a rugged but hardly epic 235km day from Fiera di Primiero to Boario Terme with just one really significant climb at the end, the Croce Domini. Whether Hinault and Guimard underestimated this final climb as they looked to conserve energy or Hinault simply suffered a giornata no – a day without energy – is up for debate, but what happened on the road is that an elite group including Prim, Lucien Van Impe and Silvano Contini escaped and Hinault, lacking a really strong support team that year, was unable to go with them. Contini won the stage and went into pink over 2 minutes ahead of Hinault and the peloton waited to see what retribution would be wreaked. Badgers can be ferocious when disturbed or threatened. The defeat and partial humiliation festered overnight and Hinault had his revenge the following day which presented a stage that ordinarily would seem to offer no opportunities to strike back. But Hinault was no ordinary rider.
Stage 18 was a modest 85km run from Piamborno to Monte Campione finishing with a fierce climb and a grim-faced Hinault went to work from the gun, with the express aim of destroying Prim and Contini, a task he executed with ruthless efficiency. By the end of a short but exhausting day, under 2 and a half hours of full-on riding, order had been fully restored and Hinault was back in pink. He defended the jersey with some ease on the big Cuneo to Pinerolo stage which, as can happen with big, much-anticipated set pieces, rather fizzled out and disappointed with none of Hinault’s main rivals building a head of steam. Hinault finished the job in the final time trial and immediately set his sights on the Tour which he virtually reduced to a routine promenade around France. During the early 1980s Hinault was simply a different class. Avoiding injuries and crashes was his only real concern.
Diving in and out of the Giro narrative during this era was Giuseppe Saronni and in 1983, with Hinault again pursuing other challenges and one of the flattest Giro courses in history beckoning, he took his opportunity well to win an Italian-dominated race from Roberto Visentini. The latter would actually have won the race on accumulated time by 48 seconds but, in an effort to ensure a victory for either Saronni or his perennially popular rival Moser, generous time bonuses had been included in the race, even for the time trials which was unusual to say the least. Saronni obliged with three stage wins, including the main time trial on stage 13 but again it wasn’t a Giro that gripped the imagination.
Moser finally bags a Giro in controversial circumstances
By any criteria the 1984 Giro d’Italia was one of the most controversial Grand Tours in history, with Laurent Fignon seemingly having to take on the race organisers as well as Italy’s finest home-grown riders as he attempted to claim another Giro title for France. With 140km of time-trialling and a minimum of high mountains, it was unashamedly set up to make a GC win possible for the veteran Francesco Moser who was coming to the end of a long and distinguished career without a Giro win on his palmares. After Saronni’s second overall win in 1983 the attention was focused firmly on Moser and from an early stage the media started talking of 1984 being Moser’s Giro. Begging to differ in that respect, however, was Fignon, who had ridden in support of Hinault in 1982 when he finished 15th. In a career badly disrupted by serious injury Fignon sometimes struggled for consistency but in May 1984 he was in his pomp and arrived in Italy as the reigning Tour de France champion. With Hinault back in France resting a knee injury, and with Guimard calling the shots as DS, Fignon clearly had an outstanding chance of victory.
The race started badly for Fignon with a careless hunger knock on stage five, the Blockhaus climb, seeing him finish over 1 minute behind Moser on terrain that should have massively favoured the Frenchman. Fignon ceded the pink jersey to Moser and immediately Moser fever took over. Already he was in front and there were two long time trials beckoning later down the line and just one really testing day in the high mountains, on the Stelvio. Much work to do obviously but everything was falling into place nicely for the Italian. Finally, after all these years. For two weeks he pulled the jersey on every morning and a nation started to believe. It was Moser’s Giro after all.
For Fignon the reverse on the Blockhaus was an unexpected blow in a race he had already calculated would be touch and go given its Moser-friendly terrain. Rather than be deterred, though, he and the wily Guimard set about devising a strategy for what they called guerrilla warfare. They were under no illusions that, with a Moser victory seemingly preordained, they would effectively be riding against the entire Italian peloton. The duo were relaxed, though; the Stelvio was the key, their chosen battleground. That is where Fignon would strike and win the Giro.
Ahead of stage 18 and the Stelvio, Moser was still in pink and over 2 minutes ahead of Fignon but the latter was confident of taking all of that back, and much more, to give himself a cushion against Moser’s expected late charge in the final time trial. Throughout the race encouraging reports had been coming in of the Stelvio road being clear of snow but on the night before stage 18 they suddenly changed to bulletins warning of bad weather at the summit. Sudden changes of weather can, of course, always happen in the mountains. The following morning, however, a number of media, supporters and camp followers were up early and drove the route and reported no particular difficulties. There was old snow, of course, on the high slopes but the road was completely clear and conditions better than most previous years the Giro has been through. The race organisers, however, quoted the National Roads authority and the local Trento authorities, insisting there was an avalanche risk and at short notice cancelled the ascent of the Stelvio. The race was rerouted to climb the 1,884m Tonale and the Palade (1,518m) but, frankly, they were small fry compared to the Stelvio where Fignon would have expected to turn the screw. Fignon was dumbfounded and disheartened by the strange turn of events and, although he tried to attack on the Tonale, he eventually settled for simply riding tempo with the lead group on the Palade. His version of events was: ‘Our plan for a huge offensive had been wrecked by the duplicity of the organisation who had little regard for the rules of sport.’
That evening Fignon and Guimard, having vented their spleen, looked at the route map and thought there was still a possibility of salvaging the race on stage 20 which included a good deal of climbing over Pordoi, Sella, Gardena and Campolongo. Fignon rode with indignant rage and destroyed all the class climbers. More importantly, he finished 2 minutes 19 seconds ahead of Moser and was now in pink again, albeit narrowly.
Fignon, however, really did feel he was taking on a nation and that Moser’s win was predetermined. Moser simply had to win. In reality, with only a Moser-friendly time trial left, the race was already won and lost but the intrigue and bitterness continued to the end with Fignon complaining that the Italian TV helicopter flew ahead of him with the downforce threatening to blow him back while the same helicopter flew behind Moser, effectively creating a tailwind. Fignon, no mean TT rider himself, did well to finish 2.24 behind Moser but that left him just over 1 minute behind in second place.
Defeat didn’t sit at all well for Fignon – ‘my chest burned with pain, the pain you feel at injustice’ – and it gnawed away at him for five years before he worked it out of his system and won the Giro the next time he contested the race, in 1989. To illustrate the form he was in during the 1984 season, and why he was so confident he could have cracked Moser on the Stelvio, he romped to victory over his former team leader Hinault, now riding for La Vie Claire, at the Tour de France. In 1984, Fignon remained forever convinced that, given a level playing field, he should have joined the pantheon of those with a Giro/Tour double on their palmares.
Hinault’s falling out with Guimard – the two had parted company when the latter switched his allegiance to Fignon – and move to La Vie Claire, not to mention recurring knee problems, had caused a considerable mid-career blip. By 1985, however, it was Fignon, after his mighty efforts in 1984, who was beginning to struggle with injury and he was forced to miss the Giro and indeed the Tour with an Achilles issue that eventually required surgery. Moser was still riding strongly, his Giro title had inspired an Indian summer to the end of his career, and although the course wasn’t so blatantly designed in his favour it was still pretty benign by Giro standards. The talented Roberto Visentini was challenging as well but Hinault rode himself nicely into form in the opening fortnight and La Vie Claire also benefited by having two cards to play if necessary with a credible Plan B in the young American Greg LeMond. The key moment came on stage 12, a long time trial which Moser really needed to win if he was to stand any realistic chance of defending his title. Passions were running high among the crowd and Moser rode well but Hinault had the bit between his teeth and roared to victory to take control of the GC. It was a rough day at the office, though: Hinault was covered in spittle when he crossed the line while journalists observed that La Vie Claire’s support car, in close attendance behind Hinault, rode with the mechanic holding the back door permanently open on the more remote sections of the course. The team explained that this was an attempt to provide some kind of protection from overenthusiastic fans who perhaps didn’t have Hinault’s best interests at heart.
Moser continued to ride strongly, however, and Hinault had to stay alert right to the finish. Stage 19 witnessed another piece of alleged duplicity on the part of the race organisers. At the unveiling of the route the previous autumn the stage was definitely listed as finishing at the summit of the Gran San Bernardo Pass yet the night before the stage Torriani suddenly announced that the finish was now to be six kilometres lower down, taking the steepest part out of the climb, where Hinault would expect to cause most damage. Hinault was not amused and was none too pleased either in the final time trial to see the Italian TV helicopter again hovering behind Moser, seeming to blow him along a little, but he stayed focused, limited his loss on the stage to 7 seconds and was home and dry. This was Hinault’s farewell to the Giro. Three races, three wins to go alongside his two wins in two starts at the Vuelta. Indeed, he was to win ten of the 12 Grand Tours he completed, winning five Tours and finishing second twice. Later in 1985 he completed his second Giro/Tour double. The Giro witnessed some of the best, most controlled and astute racing of his career and if the tifosi occasionally grew tired of his dominance and ability to trump their home-grown stars, his Breton grit always struck a chord. His passion more than matched theirs and as a rider he dealt with anything the Italians could throw at him. Literally on some occasions.
In 1986, with the race starting in Palermo, the Giro suffered a third rider fatality and the second on Sicilian soil with Emilio Ravasio crashing heavily during stage one from Palermo to Sciacca. In an incident horribly reminiscent of the accident which had claimed Fausto Coppi’s brother Serse, Ravasio remounted after his crash and, apart from bumps and bruises, all seemed well when he rolled across the finish line 7 minutes behind race winner, Sergio Santimaria. But soon after he complained of feeling unwell and lapsed into a coma. The young team Atala rider died 16 days later, having never regained consciousness.
Visentini, riding in his ninth Giro, emerged as the winner, producing powerful and spirited performances on two of the more demanding days, the hilltop finish at Sauze d’Oulx and then the summit finish at the ski resort of Foppolo. Visentini possibly had rival Greg LeMond to thank for the latter because Torriani was all for cancelling the ascent of the San Marco Pass en route to Foppolo, the major climb of the day and the crux of the stage where Visentini and LeMond would be looking to put time into Saronni and Moser. The race director again argued that weather and road conditions were dangerous but LeMond immediately made his displeasure at that prospect known and the travelling English-speaking media corp dutifully kicked up a fuss on his behalf. For once Torriani backed down and the stage duly went off without incident or alarm with there seemingly nothing unusually hazardous or wintry on the San Marco Pass. Moser in particular suffered but he recovered well in the final time trial to put 1 minute 41 seconds into LeMond – normally a very good time-trial rider himself – and claim third place overall. Moser’s victory in 1984 might have been contentious and slightly tainted, but he had been a consistently top-level performer in the Giro for a decade or more and the race was going to miss his stylish presence.