In Praise Of... Memorials

Plaques, statues and shrines to cycling’s fallen heroes are scattered all over the mountain roads of Europe, turning any ride into a pilgrimage.

- Trevor Ward

In the mountains of the Pyrenees, if you were to make the 100-mile journey from the simple brass plate commemorating the crash that cost Luis Ocaña the 1971 Tour – he was leading Eddy Merckx by nine minutes at the time – to the plaque commemorating Wim van Est’s plunge down the side of the Aubisque in 1951 – ending his stint as Holland’s first-ever wearer of the yellow jersey – you would pass a sculpture, plaque or sign roughly every 10 miles.

They’re almost as ubiquitous as the brown signs on British roadsides imploring us to visit various tourist attractions, although it’s arguable whether the statue of Marco Pantani atop the Colle della Fauniera in northern Italy is sadder than the Pencil Museum just off the A66 in Cumbria.

They come in all shapes, sizes and designs, ranging from the monumental to the subtle, from the poetic to the prosaic. ‘Because they are privately commissioned, either by family, friends or fans, they struggle to attract the talents of a decent sculptor or artist,’ says Eddy Rhead, cyclist and publisher of design journal The Modernist. ‘Limited budgets mean the scale and the materials used are, at best, modest.’

It’s often the simpler memorials that are the most moving, and if you’re in the Alps, Pyrenees or Dolomites, a pilgrimage to a remote sculpture is as good an excuse for a bike ride as any.