The Sunday supplement: pedal pusher

Catching a tow from an 800hp Le Mans winner

3y ago

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Last week, daredevil Briton Neil Campbell rode his bicycle to a frankly ridiculous new European record of 240 km/h (149mph) in the slipstream of a Porsche Cayenne Turbo. But he wasn't the first man to attempt such speeds behind a Porsche. Here, we look back at the story of 23-year-old Frenchman Jean-Claude Rude – a professional cyclist with his eyes on the same prize, exactly 40 years ago.

Since the late 19th Century a certain breed of extreme cyclist had been riding in the slipstream of curiously modified cars, trains and motorbikes in order to achieve the unthinkable from pedal-power alone.

In 1962 Frenchman José Meiffret became the first person to pass 200km/h by slipstreaming a Mercedes-Benz 300 SL on an unfinished stretch of German autobahn. This had seemed like a fairly rash decision at the time, and the record was left well alone for over a decade.

But then the American physician Dr. Allan Abbott arrived on the scene. On August 25, 1973 The Flying Doctor, as he became known, raised the bar once again when he reached the staggering speed of 223.5km/h in the slipstream of a heavily modified 1955 Chevrolet on the Bonneville Salt Flats.

Neil Campbell, at Elvington Airfield in York, England

Neil Campbell, at Elvington Airfield in York, England

For the best part of half a century this peculiar record had been in French hands and perhaps it was this, coupled with Gallic ennui, that spurred Rude into action five years later. But how would they manage to surpass Abbot’s extraordinary achievement? This is where the path leads to Porsche’s door.

Another Frenchman, Henri Pescarolo, was one of the most prominent and successful racing drivers of the 1970s. Rude’s cycling team contacted Pescarolo and asked if he would help and despite some initial skepticism, the legendary Le Mans winner came round.

By this time Pescarolo was racing Porsche’s immensely successful 936 with other sportscar luminaires like Jacky Ickx and Jocehn Mass. Pescarolo used his sizeable influence to acquire a 935 Turbo from the Martini Racing team which was then extensively modified with a bizarre aerodynamic trapezoidal pod at the rear in which Rude would be able to ride.

A roller along the length of the bumper would allow the front wheel of Rude’s bike to touch the rear of the 935, ensuring he could stay right in the 935’s slipstream. The car was now overweight and cumbersome, but with 800hp on tap and Pescarolo at the wheel, it was likely to achieve and maintain the necessary speed for Rude to make the attempt.

The 935 Turbo used in Rude's attempt was extensively modified with a bizarre aerodynamic trapezoidal pod at the rear in which Rude would be able to ride.

The 935 Turbo used in Rude's attempt was extensively modified with a bizarre aerodynamic trapezoidal pod at the rear in which Rude would be able to ride.

The bicycle Rude would ride was also far from the racing norm. The front gear was almost the same circumference as the wheel itself, while the rear gear was only around two centimetres in diameter. With a crank revolution of around 110 centimetres, the bike had an exceptionally large gear ratio, meaning Rude would be able to cover a distance of up to 27 metres per revolution. However, this also meant that in order to get going, Rude had to be pushed up the road by motorbike with a lance, as the cyclist alone could not generate sufficient power.

Fraught with uncertainty as all this sounds, there was much more to come. While the last two record attempts by Meiffret and Abbott had been held on long straights, Pescarolo and Rude were told they would not be able to run on a motorway, as was initially planned.

The Volkswagen test track in Ehra-Lessien near Wolfsburg offered an alternative, but also presented additional challenges: “We realised straight away that it would be difficult”, recalls Pescarolo. “There was a corner at the beginning and at the end of the straights.”

This would make everything vastly more hairy. Rude had to build up speed gradually on his bike, but at the same time, the Porsche had to drive slowly enough to ensure that Rude remained in the slipstream - not as easy as it sounds with a long-geared, late Seventies 800hp turbo. If he were to pull away from Rude, denying him the slipstream, the consequences could be devastating. This meant there was a huge amount of pressure on Pescarolo too. “His life was in my hands,” recalls the 75-year-old.

At 10:30 am on Wednesday, August 23, 1978, they went for it. With a push start from the lance, Rude began his sprint. “He had incredible power in his legs to get the bike going and then find his rhythm,” says Pescarolo. “He was a professional track cyclist, he knew the effort involved, but for anyone else it would have been a superhuman feat.”

Pescarolo was gradually building up speed, accelerating towards 200km/h when, without warning, Rude lost control of his bike. The rear tube had burst and broken away from the rim, becoming entangled between the wheel and the frame. In an instant the wheel locked and the rim sheared and flew across the carriageway. Working on instinct, Rude managed to regain control of the skidding bike and remained upright against the odds for hundreds of metres as it slowed.

“That was the end of the record attempt, but we were extremely relieved that nothing happened to him,” recalls Pescarolo.

The 935 would go on to overall victory at Le Mans in 1979, but Rude’s future was less poetic. The fearless young Frenchman was killed in a tragic accident the following year, chasing another speed record aboard his beloved bicycle.