The Sun Riding a Bicycle

This is just a beautiful thing:

"I remember.
I remember Grossetto and Follonica, two Italian towns about which I know nothing, except they were linked by a time trial on the Giro. It was 1953 and a glorious day. I was wearing the jersey of the French national team, and getting worried. I was worried because I had started six minutes before Coppi. As the kilometres went by the restiveness, then the excitment and finally the hysteria of the Tifosi thronging both sides of the road, lead me to guess, and very soon to feel that Coppi was on my tail. With a deafening roar press cars and photographers' motorcycles shot past me, sirens wailing . He had arrived. He past me on the left. He did not notice me. He was riding on a cushion of air. His long legs were whirling round and his hands on top of the handlebars. He was sublime. I strove desperately to keep him for a moment in my sights. I saw his sky-blue Bianchi jersey, the sky blue support car in which his mechanic, the faithful Pinella, balanced a spare bike over his shoulder. This image will never be erased. One day, in a cloud of golden dust, I saw the sun riding a bicycle between Grosseto and Follonica."

Jean Bobet - Tomorrow We Ride

William Fotheringham - Fallen Angel: The Passion of Fausto Coppi