In the high mountains of the French Alps, on July 19, 2023, the battle for the yellow jersey reached its breaking point. What had been a thrilling duel for nearly three weeks between two generational rivals, Jonas Vingegaard and Tadej Pogačar, ended not with a bang, but with a crack — and the mountain that delivered it was one of the most brutal in modern Tour history: the Col de la Loze.
This was the day Tadej Pogačar, the two-time Tour winner and relentless attacker, showed something we hadn’t seen from him before:
vulnerability.
Col de la Loze: The beast in the clouds
At 2,304 meters, the Col de la Loze is the highest climb used in the Tour de France in the 21st century. Added to the race in 2020, it’s a purpose-built cycle path — narrow, steep, and irregular, with punishing ramps that spike beyond 20% in the final kilometers. Its ascent from Méribel is both scenic and savage, combining technical difficulty with sheer altitude.
Stage 17 in 2023 was built entirely around this climb. Over 165 km from Saint-Gervais to Courchevel, the stage packed in nearly 5,400 meters of climbing — one of the hardest of the race. All eyes were on the final showdown.
The rivalry: Vingegaard vs. Pogačar
Up until this stage, the 2023 Tour had been defined by a gripping tug-of-war between Vingegaard, the reigning champion, and Pogačar, his fiery challenger. The gap between them had never exceeded a minute. Vingegaard had worn yellow, but Pogačar kept attacking — winning stages, smiling through pain, always threatening.
Stage 16, a time trial, had already shifted momentum. Vingegaard produced a stunning performance, taking 1’38” from Pogačar and increasing his overall lead. Still, nothing was certain. Until Stage 17.
The crack: when everything fell apart
As the peloton hit the early slopes of the Loze, Pogačar was still riding near his Jumbo-Visma rival. But with 8.5 kilometers to go, the signs began to show: he dropped back slightly… then more… and then the radio confirmed what no one expected to hear:
“He’s gone. He’s completely cracked.”
Pogačar, usually so animated on the bike, was hunched, staring at his handlebars. The cadence slowed. The bounce in the pedal stroke disappeared. His teammate Marc Soler waited and tried to pull him along, but the damage was done.
Meanwhile, Sepp Kuss set a brutal tempo for Vingegaard, who remained calm and smooth. He didn’t even need to attack — the mountain did it for him.
By the summit and into Courchevel, Vingegaard had gained over 5 minutes on Pogačar. A tight GC battle had turned into a rout.
Aftermath: a human moment
At the finish line, Pogačar didn’t hide his pain. He called it “one of the worst days of my life on the bike.” He had been battling a lingering wrist injury, illness, and fatigue from his spring campaign — and the Loze exposed it all.
But his response wasn’t anger. It was humility. He congratulated Vingegaard, smiled (even through the devastation), and acknowledged that “Jonas was just on another level.”
Vingegaard, for his part, was reserved in triumph. He praised Pogačar and acknowledged how much he pushed him to his limits throughout the Tour.
Col de la Loze Carves its place in history
The Col de la Loze proved once again that it is not just a climb — it is a reckoning. Its irregular pitches, altitude, and cruelty turned a tight Tour into a decisive moment of truth.
It will be remembered not just for Pogačar’s collapse, but for its symbolism: a new generation of climbs producing the defining moments of modern Grand Tours.
In a Tour full of brilliance, breakaways, and beautiful chaos, Stage 17 was the day of clarity. The day Vingegaard proved his dominance. The day the mountain broke the unbreakable.
And perhaps, most of all — the day the Tour de France reminded us that even heroes are human.