"Tour de Greater Paris?"
"Sorel-Peugeot?"
"Bicycles?"
These words were not unfamiliar to Parisians, but combined, they were puzzling.
Under the continuous enthusiastic performances of "Thunderstorm", bicycles had been popular on the streets of Paris for several months, so everyone was familiar with them.
But riding that thing around the entire "Greater Paris"?
Everyone still found it unbelievable.
Although the Paris region had already established a basic road network, could this urban mode of transport really withstand such a long journey?
Readers continued to read and found that the news announced the details of the race and the detailed route, and couldn't help but study it.
This race was indeed ambitious; it planned for participants to cycle around the entire "Paris Region"—
That is, to complete a loop along the outer edges of eight provinces, including Seine province and Seine-et-Oise province.
The route would rely on the existing road system, starting from the edge of the Fontainebleau Forest, passing through Rambouillet, Saint-Germain-en-Laye, Montmorency, Chantilly...
Finally returning to Fontainebleau, the entire course was estimated to be five hundred and fifty kilometers.
The report also stated that the average speed of the current "Sorel Model 1" bicycle was eleven to thirteen kilometers per hour, meaning it would take at least forty hours to complete the entire course.
Considering the limits of the human body, the race was designed to be conducted in segments, expected to take five days, with multiple official supply points and recommended rest areas along the way.
The registration deadline was set for September 1st.
The winner's prize was also highly attractive:
A medal, a brand-new "Sorel Model 1" bicycle, which would be painted gold; and a cash prize of up to one thousand francs.
This news quickly ignited public enthusiasm.
Such a long-distance, multi-day, around Greater Paris race concept was unprecedented at the time.
It was not just a sports competition, but more like a grand review of the bicycle as a means of transport and the physical endurance of cyclists.
People eagerly discussed the towns the route passed through, calculated the mileage to be completed each day, and speculated who might be able to complete this arduous challenge.
The bicycle craze swept through Paris again, spreading to towns across the Greater Paris region.
Orders for "Sorel-Peugeot" experienced a new surge, and Armand Peugeot was so busy in the factory he barely had a moment to rest, a suppressed joy evident on his face.
Along with the interest in the race itself, Lionel's name was once again frequently mentioned.
"Have you heard? This race is being organized by Monsieur Sorel's company!"
"Wasn't he sued and then disappeared?"
"Who knows? Maybe he's still watching all this from somewhere."
"It's truly ironic to think that while the government throws our money into the mud of Tunisia and Vietnam, he's organizing such an inspiring race."
The public's thoughts were drawn back to a few months ago, recalling Lionel's remarks against colonial wars.
Recalling his profound analysis of colonialism in his essay "The Glorified and the Emasculated".
And also recalling the attacks and accusations he faced because of it, and his eventual forced "hiding".
Feelings of sympathy, recognition, and guilt began to spread through public opinion, and many began to re-examine his warnings from back then.
A student in a tavern said to his companion,
"Monsieur Sorel was right! Look now! What have we gained?
Nothing but longer and longer lists of casualties and taxes!"
A nearby drinker quoted Lionel's words,
"When everyone is marching forward singing in one direction, perhaps someone is needed even more to remind them to look at the cliff beneath their feet."
Then he sighed,
"Too bad, few people listened back then."
Left-wing newspapers like "Justice News" seized the opportunity to publish articles, calling on the Palace of Justice to drop the absurd charges against Lionel of "inciting military disobedience" and "insulting the nation".
The articles pointed out that facts had proven Sorel's warnings were not alarmist, and persecuting a visionary writer was a stain on French judicial history.
However, in the face of public outcry, the Paris Palace of Justice remained silent, making no statement and not withdrawing the charges.
This silence, far from calming public opinion, further deepened public sympathy for Lionel and dissatisfaction with the Jules Ferry government.
——————
Just as public opinion was buzzing about the Tour de Greater Paris cycling race, in the courtyard of Saint Ignatius Academy, a historic aristocratic secondary school in the Latin Quarter.
A young man was skillfully riding a gleaming "Sorel Model 1" bicycle, speeding round and round the central fountain.
He appeared to be only eighteen or nineteen, with a slender build and a touch of youthful innocence on his face, but his eyes were full of vitality.
At times, he would let go of the handlebars with both hands, controlling the bike purely with his core strength, his arms spread like soaring wings.
At other times, he would suddenly stand up, pedaling vigorously to accelerate the bicycle into a sprint, then letting it glide on inertia, a flamboyant and unrestrained posture.
The cheerful whirring of the chain drive and his joyful laughter echoed in the ancient courtyard.
A friend leaning against a colonnade laughed and shouted,
"Look! Pierre is performing his circus tricks again!"
The young man named Pierre performed a nimble tailwhip, stopping the bike steadily in front of his friend, his face flushed, sweat dampening his temples.
He dismounted, patted the shiny leather saddle vigorously, his tone full of excitement:
"Circus tricks? No, my friend!
This is skill, balance, control! More importantly, this is the future!"
He pointed to the announcement of the Tour de Greater Paris cycling race in the newspaper he held, his eyes sparkling:
"Look at this! Around Greater Paris! Six hundred kilometers!
This is a real challenge, a real adventure! I've decided, I must participate! I must win the championship!"
His friend shook his head, a helpless smile on his face:
"Oh come on, my dear Monsieur Coubertin, dreaming of championships again!
Six hundred kilometers is not as simple as circling in our academy's small courtyard. I heard there are many steep slopes along the way, and the weather is unpredictable.
There will certainly be many experienced masters participating, they've been playing this thing since the penny-farthing era, how can you compete with them?"
Pierre de Coubertin lifted his chin, his expression naive yet confident:
"So what? I have the best 'Sorel Model 1'!
I also have enough stamina, and even more, a heart that yearns for victory! Experienced masters?
They might not have my passion and understanding of this sport!"
His friend knew he wasn't lying; Coubertin had an almost obsessive love for cycling, just as he had for rowing, fencing, and horse riding before.
In Coubertin's view, this was not just a game or pastime, but an excellent way to forge will and cultivate character.
A grand and challenging event like the Tour de Greater Paris cycling race perfectly matched his aspirations.
Coubertin spread his arms, as if to embrace the imagined track:
"Imagine, traversing forests, passing ancient castles, challenging your limits under a vast sky!
This is much more interesting than staying in the classroom cramming Latin and listening to old academics droning on about history!"
His friend looked at his excited state, knowing that persuasion was useless.
Once Pierre de Coubertin set his mind on something, he would pour all his passion and energy into it; this was his consistent style.
His friend patted his shoulder:
"Alright, future champion, then you'd better hurry up and register, and start real long-distance training. Circling the fountain won't win you one thousand francs."
Coubertin immediately got back on his bicycle:
"You're right! I'm going to register now! I hope Monsieur Lionel Sorel will present me with the award!"
He pushed off hard, and the bicycle shot out like an arrow from a bow again, drawing a youthful arc in the ancient courtyard.
————————
While all of Paris was looking forward to Lionel's reappearance—
He was in London, encountering a minor trouble...
(End of chapter)