We thought we knew everything about the Tour and its apostles; the racers, organizers, sporting directors and reporters. We never saw these champions as they appear here: candidly stripped down in broad daylight, their bodies being loosened by a masseur's hands, avowed enemies sharing a bath, letting themselves go at last. We see them living in the poignant glow of the stages' evenings, as if through a two-way mirror. They show themselves rid of their star status, as simple family men, just regular guys. They are ordinary, sublime and at times pathetic all at once. These photographs, snatched from oblivion, show an intimate and unknown Tour de France. This then, is the Tour of lost moments.