In 1997, Jan Ullrich announced himself to the world by obliterating his rivals in the first mountain stage of the Tour de France. So awesome was his display that it sent shockwaves throughout the world of cycling and invited headlines such as L’Équipe’s ‘The New Giant’. He went on to become Germany’s first ever Tour winner, storming to victory in that edition by almost 10 minutes, a result that was greeted as an era-defining changing of the guard. Everyone agreed: Jan Ullrich was the future of cycling. 

Cycling fans obsess about climbs and big mountains. They love reading about their tests and tribulations, and they love to ride them - a cricket lover can never bat at Lord's, or a football supporter score at Wembley, but any rider can take on the challenge of an iconic mountain. There have been fine books about the big climbs before but never from the voice of an elite GC winner, taking you inside what these climbs really feel like, where the attacks come, where the pain kicks in.

He's ridden for World Tour teams for 10 years. He's achieved top 10 finishes in Grand Tours. He likes coffee. These are just a few details about the professional rider who wants you to know what the view looks like from the centre of the peloton. What do the riders really make of Team Sky? How does the pay structure work? Why should you never trust a kit endorsement from a professional? Is doping still an issue? The Secret Cyclist tackles the big questions head-on, revealing a side to cycling that fans have never seen before.

They called him God. For his grace on a bicycle, for his divine talent, for his heavenly looks. Frank Vandenbroucke had it all, and in the late '90s, he raced with dazzling speed and lived even faster. The Belgian won several of cycling's most illustrious races, including Liège-Bastogne-Liège, Paris-Nice and Ghent-Wevelgem. He was a mix of poise and panache who enthralled a generation of cycling fans. Off the bike, he only had one enemy - himself. 

Committed Belgophile and road cycling obsessive Harry Pearson takes you on a journey across Flanders - through the lumpy horizontal rain, up the elbow-juddering cobbled inclines, past the fans dressed as chickens and the shop window displays of constipation medicines as he follows races big, small and even smaller, through one glorious, muddy spring. Ranging over 500 years of Flemish and European history, Pearson examines the characters, the myths and the rivalries that make Flanders a place where cycling is a religion and the riders its Lycra-clad priests.

Ned Boulting has noticed something. It's to do with bikes. They're everywhere. And so are their riders. Some of these riders seem to be sporting sideburns and a few of them are winning things. Big things. Now Ned wants to know how on earth it came to this. And what, exactly is 'this'. In On the Road Bike, Ned Boulting asks how Britain became so obsessed with cycling. Ned’s search puts him in contact with some of the wonderful and wonderfully idiosyncratic people who have contributed to this nation’s two-wheeled history.

By his 18th birthday David Millar was living and racing in France, sleeping in rented rooms, tipped to be the next English-speaking Tour winner. A year later he'd realised the dream and signed a professional contract. He perhaps lived the high life a little too enthusiastically - he broke his heel in a fall from a roof after too much drink and before long the pressure to succeed had tipped over into doping.

Julian Berrendero's victory in the 1941 Vuelta a Espana was an extraordinary exercise in sporting redemption: the Spanish cyclist had just spent 18 months in Franco's concentration camps, punishment for expressing Republican sympathies during the civil war. Seventy-nine years later, perennially over-ambitious cyclo-adventurer Tim Moore developed a fascination with Berrendero's story, and having borrowed an old road bike with the great man's name plastered all over it, set off to retrace the 4,409-km route of his 1941 triumph - in the midst of a global pandemic.

What is it really like to be a racer? What is it like to be swept along at 60kmh in the middle of the pack? How does it feel to be reeled in from a solo breakaway metres from the line? What happens to the body during a high-speed chute? What tactics must teams employ to win the day, the jersey, the grand tour? How does a domestique keep going to the end of a stage once his job is done and his body exhausted?

Bernard Hinault is one of the greatest cyclists of all time. He is a five-time winner of the Tour de France and the only man to have won each of the Grand Tours on more than one occasion. Three decades on from his retirement, he remains the last Frenchman to win the Tour de France. His victory in 1985 marks the turning point when the nation who had dominated the first eight decades of the race they had invented suddenly found they were no longer able to win it.

Mark Cavendish is the first British cyclist to win the Tour de France's green jersey, the first to wear the iconic rainbow jersey in almost 50 years and our only ever rider to capture the Giro d'Italia points title. He is the most prolific sprinter in the Tour's history, and - according to L'Equipe - the best sprinter of all time. But smashing records and racking up victories means whole new levels of fame: and this has come at a price. Living in the goldfish bowl, he has come under fire for his bombastic riding style and been portrayed as everything from an outlaw to a psychopath.

In 2001, when the bible of the sport, Cycling Weekly, ran a poll to decide the greatest British cyclist, Chris Boardman's was the name that topped the list. It was Boardman's lone achievements in the '80s and '90s - Olympic track gold, the world hour record, repeatedly claiming the yellow jersey in the Tour de France - that lit the spark for modern British cycling. His endeavours both on and off the bike have made him the founding father of current golden generation - without him there would simply be no Hoy, Wiggins or Cavendish.

For a race as long as the mighty Tour (three weeks of testing the limits of human endurance), to have the ultimate victory decided by a margin of just eight seconds almost boggles the mind. But that's exactly what happened between American legend Greg LeMond and Laurent Fignon. After more than 2,000 miles in the saddle, it remains the smallest margin of victory in the Tour's 100-plus-year history.

Sit back or saddle up as double Olympic gold medallist and multiple world champion Geraint Thomas gives you a warts-and-all insight into the life of a pro cyclist. Along the way he reveals cycling's clandestine codes and secret stories; tales from the peloton; the key characters like Wiggins, Hoy and Cav; the pivotal races; and essential etiquette. Geraint Thomas is treasured for treating his sport just as the rest of us see it: not as a job but as an escape and an adventure.

Even by the standards of a sport that requires enormous stamina and capacity for suffering, Jens Voigt is in a class on his own. Beloved by cycling fans for his madcap one-man breakaways as much as his sense of humour and quotable catchphrases, Jens is one of the most popular personalities in cycling. Jens was born near Hamburg and came up through the East German system before the Wall came down. He got into the national team through the German army before signing for his first big team.