At the edge of the Fontainebleau Forest, cheers rose like a tide, lingering long and strong.
Lionel stood by the awards podium, looking at the group of warriors who had endured five days of grueling racing and successfully circled the Greater Paris region.
There were fewer than a hundred of them, all covered in dust, but their eyes burned with fiery passion.
Pierre de Coubertin, though not among the frontrunners, persevered and completed the entire race, finishing in the middle.
When he pushed his mud-splattered "Sorel Type 1" across the finish line, he was greeted with admiring applause.
Lionel walked steadily onto the podium, and the audience instantly fell silent, all eyes fixed on him.
From a tray held by a waiter, he took the gold medal specially crafted for the champion—engraved with a wheel and the outline of Paris—and solemnly hung it around the neck of the first-place rider.
He then presented a "Sorel Type 1" bicycle with a gold frame and a thick envelope containing 1000 francs in cash to the champion.
The rider's lips trembled with excitement as he tightly clasped Lionel's hand.
Lionel patted his shoulder, then turned to all the finishers and the dense crowd of spectators:
"Gentlemen! Today, we are here not only to crown the victors but also to honor the courage of all those who dared to challenge themselves and conquer the long road!
You have measured this land with your wheels, proving that human will can surpass the limits of the flesh!"
He paused briefly, his gaze sweeping over excited and expectant faces, and announced an even grander plan:
"This is just the beginning! The 'Sorel-Peugeot' Cup cycling race will be held annually from now on!
And, I promise that as French roads are built, we will gradually expand the scope of the circuit, passing through more provinces and connecting more towns.
Our ultimate goal is to create a magnificent event truly belonging to all the people of France, circling the entire country—the 'Tour de France'!"
"Tour de France!" This imaginative name made all the contestants and the live audience so excited they couldn't contain themselves.
They waved their arms, threw their hats into the air, and let out deafening cheers.
Reporters scribbled and sketched in their notebooks, recording this historic moment.
————————
This cycling race triggered a series of chain reactions.
First, of course, was the unprecedented success of the "Sorel-Peugeot Mechanical Manufacturing Factory."
All the bicycles that ultimately completed this 550-kilometer extreme challenge were "Sorel Type 1"!
Other brands all fell by the wayside in the rigorous long-distance test.
This was like the strictest product test, proving the absolute superiority of the "Sorel Type 1" with undeniable results.
The "Sorel-Peugeot Mechanical Manufacturing Factory" also took the opportunity to launch bicycles specifically designed for women, with smaller wheels and lower frames, and the crossbar removed, allowing for smooth mounting and dismounting even when wearing skirts;
At the same time, children's bicycles were also launched, divided into three models based on age and height.
Bicycles produced by "Sorel-Peugeot" were no longer just a convenient mode of transport but also a symbol of lifestyle.
Orders flew in like snowflakes from all over France and neighboring European countries, and the Saint-Antoine suburban factory, already operating at full capacity, once again faced immense pressure.
Armand Peugeot decisively decided to invest heavily again to expand the production line, recruit more workers, and prepare for two-shift production.
The biggest problem was that newly recruited workers needed a certain amount of training time to master the bicycle assembly process, making it difficult to increase production in the short term.
Lionel gave him a small suggestion—to improve efficiency, the entire production and assembly process could be broken down into the simplest steps, with each worker responsible for only one part.
For example, the process of fixing the front fork to the frame with screws only requires mastering one step, which even workers with no experience can handle after brief training.
Conveyor belts, similar to those in mines, could be laid in the workshop, "passing" bicycles like a flowing stream to the next assembler.
Finally, a few experienced masters would test the assembled bicycles, and if they passed, they could be shipped for sale.
Armand Peugeot was stunned at first upon hearing this, then he jumped directly from his chair and shouted excitedly, hugging Lionel:
"Lion, you're a genius!"
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At the level of public opinion, this competition also unexpectedly served to expose reality.
To report on this grand event, several media outlets, including "Le Petit Parisien" and "Le Figaro," dispatched teams of journalists to follow the convoy and meticulously record the conditions along the way.
Thus, many Parisians learned for the first time through newspapers that once they left the Paris urban area, the roads outside were a completely different scene.
Reporters' articles were full of pungent descriptions and sarcasm about the road conditions:
"Leaving Paris is like leaving the civilized world!"
"The road to Rambouillet can shake a rider's bones apart!"
"Near Melun, a small rain turned the road into a quagmire, turning riders into boatmen!"
...
These reports relentlessly revealed the backwardness of French local road construction; and sharply pointed out that if the government continued to be inactive in road construction, the "Tour de France" would have to wait a hundred years to be held.
These reports sparked widespread resonance and discussion among readers, especially Parisian citizens.
People began to complain about inconvenient travel, questioning the government's investment of large sums in overseas colonial expansion while neglecting the most basic infrastructure construction at home.
Opposition newspapers seized this opportunity to fiercely attack Jules Ferry's policy imbalance, adding insult to injury for the already shaky cabinet.
Lionel, however, paid no attention to this commotion, focusing wholeheartedly on completing his novel "The Sun Also Rises" and finalizing his travel plans to America.
Since radio technology had not yet been developed in this era, once they boarded the ship and left port, they would not receive any outside news for the entire voyage.
To avoid any unexpected situations, all travel arrangements had to be settled before departure.
And the public opinion, which had been suffocated by the Panama Canal scandal, found a brilliant outlet.
"Le Figaro" was the first to announce the grand event with a front-page headline: "The Glorious Expedition of French Literature!"
The article went to great lengths to emphasize the cultural significance of the visit, portraying it as a "spiritual output" showcasing French civilization, attempting to dilute the gloom brought by the canal project.
"La République" called it "the joint performance of the republican spirit and free art," which would write a new chapter in Franco-American friendship.
Popular newspapers like "Le Petit Parisien" were keen to describe the sensation writers might cause in America.
Driven by the cycling race and the visit to America, discussions in Parisian salons and cafes quickly shifted from "six-meter drop" and "yellow fever" to "how will the Americans receive our writers" and "whose works will touch the readers of the New World more."
Even the languishing stock market began to pick up, and the future of France seemed full of hope again, inspiring great confidence.
"Le Figaro," "La République," "Le Petit Parisien," and other media announced that they would send reporters to accompany the delegation throughout the entire "historic journey."
Meanwhile, "The New York Herald," "The New York Tribune," and "The Boston Globe" also acted swiftly, each dispatching teams of reporters to arrive in Paris in advance.
They would not only report on the writers' final preparations in France but also board the ship together for cross-ocean coverage.
For a time, Lionel, Zola, and others became international stars, with a group of bilingual English and French-speaking reporters, eagerly asking questions, always following their public appearances in Paris.
——————————
On October 15, 1881, the autumn wind of Normandy blew through the port of Le Havre.
The gray sea was flecked with white foam, and the air was full of the smell of seawater, coal smoke, and cargo.
On the harbor dock, people thronged, exceptionally noisy.
The gigantic 5500-ton displacement ocean liner "Pèreire" stood majestically beside the berth like a floating steel city.
Its hull was slender and tall, with two towering funnels pointing to the sky, announcing its powerful engine.
The "Pèreire" was the pride of the French steamship company, having set a record of 7 days and 23 hours to reach New York on its maiden voyage in 1875, a record unbroken to this day.
One could say it was the pride of French shipbuilding industry!
Lionel, Zola, Maupassant, Daudet, Goncourt, Huysmans, and others arrived at the Le Havre dock by train.
Besides writers and journalists, the boarding party was also crowded with various French businessmen, factory owners, and speculators, carrying bulging briefcases, their eyes gleaming with desire.
Some carried silk samples, some tucked introductions to vineyards, some talked about railway bonds.
Even a Chicago pig breeder brought eight precious French breeding pigs into the cargo hold—he planned to promote authentic "French bacon" in America.
All these people were eager to use this grand event to open up the American market for themselves.
Alphonse Daudet looked at the chaotic scene and softly said to Goncourt beside him:
"Edmond, I feel we are less like missionaries going to preach, and more like ringleaders of a circus tour."
Edmond de Goncourt shrugged:
"At least the box office seems promising."
Guided by dock staff, Lionel and his companions boarded the "Pèreire" via the gangway.
This large ship had a wide deck and complete facilities, and its decoration reflected the Second Empire's aesthetic pursuit of luxury and comfort.
Lionel and the others were led to the first-class cabin, which was not only luxuriously decorated with soft beds, private washrooms, but also a small writing desk.
Huysmans surveyed the surroundings and expressed satisfaction:
"It seems we won't have to cross the ocean like ascetics."
Lionel was not surprised; the American side, both officially and privately, highly valued this trip, so they would be received with the highest protocol throughout the journey.
This rising nation would rather be called a big spender than lose face.
Soon after, a deep and booming whistle suddenly sounded, overriding all the clamor.
The massive hull of the "Pèreire" slowly moved, creating an ever-widening stretch of water between it and the dock.
The mooring ropes were pulled in, and the propellers churned the murky seawater, propelling this colossal ship, laden with countless hopes, towards the vast ocean.
The crowds and buildings on shore gradually shrank, eventually becoming blurred outlines.
Before long, Le Havre port also disappeared below the horizon, leaving only the boundless gray-blue ocean and the low sound of waves all around.
On the private deck of the first-class cabin, Lionel faced his companions:
"Alright, gentlemen, France is out of sight. Now, let's prepare to welcome the New World!"
Subsequently, reporters swarmed over, beginning the first round of "exclusive interviews"!
(End of chapter)