Critérium du Dauphiné 1947 : The Dawn of a Legend

In 1947, France could finally breathe again. The country was healing its wounds, cycling was reclaiming its former glory, and a new race set off through the Alps. The Critérium du Dauphiné Libéré, organised by the newspaper of the same name, was born. A modest first edition on paper: four stages and a loop of nearly a thousand kilometres from Grenoble to Grenoble, passing through Vienne, Annecy, Geneva and Annemasse. But already, a promise was taking shape, to reveal the strongest riders ahead of the Grand Boucle.

On 12 June, one rider stood at the start line drawing little attention from the press. His name was Edward Klabiński. A Pole who had fled the war, riding under the purple jersey of the Mercier-Hutchinson team.

In the peloton, all eyes were on Vietto, Lapébie, Caput, experienced men, hardened by the mountains. But Klabiński carried something else in his legs: a fierce hunger, a watchmaker’s clarity, and the calm of riders with nothing to prove, but everything to show.

From the first stage between Grenoble and Vienne, Klabiński kept his powder dry. Nothing spectacular. He stayed sheltered, measured the climbs, watched. The next day, the tone changed, he attacked on the lower slopes of the Semnoz, held off the favourites, and pulled on the yellow leader’s jersey.

The following stage, from Annecy to Annemasse, proved decisive.
The roads were long, baked in sunlight. On a sharp climb, he launched a clean, solitary attack. No one responded. The peloton hesitated. Out front, he widened the gap and crossed the line alone, arms raised, almost disbelieving. He had just crushed the race.

On the final day, back in Grenoble, he controlled. Clear-headed. Composed. He became the first-ever winner of the Critérium du Dauphiné, the first name etched in stone. And alongside his, that of the Mercier team, opening its Dauphiné chapter through the grandest of entrances.

To this day, the Dauphiné remains true to that spirit. A springboard to the Tour. A race where, each year, champions come to test themselves, feel the mountains, read the wind, yes, in preparation for July, but above all to write cycling history. Klabiński’s in 1947 is just one such story. But it carries the essence of what we love at Mercier: quiet audacity, the elegance of effort, and respect for the road and for time.

And as the 2025 edition of the Critérium du Dauphiné sets off this Sunday, between Domérat and the Mont-Cenis plateau, we think back to that day in June '47. To that very first line. To the rider in purple who showed that even the greatest stories sometimes begin in the shadows.

And even if today Edward Klabiński is little remembered, at Mercier, we haven’t forgotten that first page. Nor the man who wrote it.