José Meiffret’s 200km/h Bike Ride

This strange looking bike with an enormous chain wheel was designed for speed, and speed it did achieve. On July 19, 1962, French cyclist José Meiffret blazed down the Autobahn near Friedburg Germany on this very bike at an incredible speed of 204 km/h (127 mph), thus becoming the first cyclist to breach the 200 km/h barrier.

To reach such incredible speed using muscle power alone, Meiffret’s bike had to undergo numerous modifications. The standard chainwheel was replaced by an oversized wheel with 130 teeth. This was connected to a 15-teeth rear sprocket, resulting in a high gear ratio. The rear wheel was also made larger so that the bike covered more ground with each turn of the pedals. The rake on the fork was reversed to allow the rider to get nearer to the roller (windscreen). The rims were made of wood to prevent overheating and tubular tires were used for optimal performance.

Meiffert practiced a type of cycling called “motor-paced racing” where a cyclist rides closely behind a motorcycle or car, called the pacer, to benefit from its slipstream. The pacer is equipped with a large windshield that shields the cyclist from turbulence, drastically reducing air resistance and enabling them to reach speeds unattainable on a human-powered bike alone.

Motor-paced racing is a dangerous sport that has claimed the lives of countless cyclists, including some of the best in the world. In 1903, American cyclist Harry Elkes was killed when his tires exploded at 100 km/h, throwing him under another rider’s pacing machine. Bobby Walthour, one of the top American cyclists of his time, endured an almost unimaginable list of injuries throughout his career. Historian Peter Nye notes Walthour's "impressive (or dismaying) inventory of injuries," including “28 fractures of the right collarbone, 18 of the left, 32 broken ribs, and 60 stitches to his face and head." On one occasion, as family history tells it, he was mistakenly declared dead in Paris and taken to the morgue—only to regain consciousness on the slab.

Meiffret himself narrowly escaped death in 1952 when motor-racing at Montlhery, France.  While pedaling at high speed, his bike collapsed beneath him, launching him into the air. He struck the ground hard, tumbling for 300 feet and sliding another 20 before coming to a stop. His body was badly scraped and bloodied. Doctors found five separate fractures on his skull. Miraculously, Meiffret survived.

Meiffret was well aware of the dangers when he began his record breaking attempt on the freeway near the German town of Friedburg. “The screen had a roller, but if he should touch it at 100 miles an hour, he would be clipped. On the other hand, if he should fall behind as little as 18 inches, the turbulence would make mincemeat of him. If the car should jerk or lurch or hit a bump, he would be in immediate mortal danger,” wrote Clifford L. Graves.

In his pocket, Meiffret carried a note:

In case of fatal accident, I beg of the spectators not to feel sorry for me. I am a poor man, an orphan since the age of eleven, and I have suffered much. Death holds no terror for me. This record attempt is my way of expressing myself. If the doctors can do no more for me, please bury me by the side of the road where I have fallen.

José Meiffret was born in 1913 in the village of Boulouris on the French Riviera. As a young man, he initially tried long-distance racing but found lacking in skills. It was Henry Desgrange, the founder of the Tour de France, who suggested that Meiffret try motor-pacing instead. In his very first motor-paced race, between Nice and Cannes, Meiffret finished first, a full seven minutes ahead of the competition. Buoyed by this victory, he decided to repeat the route behind a more powerful motorbike, completing the 40-mile ride in just over an hour.

Photo credit: Paris-Roubaix

After World War II, Meiffret returned to motor-paced racing and shattered the hour record previously set by Frenchman Paillard in the 1930s, covering 54.618 miles. Paillard quickly reclaimed the title, however, by pushing the record to 59.954 miles. Determined to surpass Paillard again, Meiffret selected the Grenzlandring circuit in Germany, where he covered 65.115 miles in one hour.

Around this time, Meiffret began pacing behind cars instead of motorcycles. Cars provided more shielding from turbulence and were capable of greater speeds. At the time, the record for cycling behind a car was held by Alfred Letourneur, who had reached 108.923 mph on the Los Angeles freeway in 1941. It took Meiffret just three attempts to surpass Letourneur’s record, achieving a speed of 109.100 mph.

After his horrific crash in 1952, Meiffret endured months of recovery, battling not only for his physical well-being but also for his mental health. In search of tranquility, he joined the Trappist monks at Sept-Fons and embraced the austere life of a monk. During this period of reflection, he continued to refine his bicycle designs and wrote his first book, Breviary of a Cyclist.

Photo credit: Paris-Roubaix

José Meiffret on his bike. Photo credit: Paris-Roubaix

In the fall of 1961, at the age of forty-eight, Meiffret set a new speed record of 115.934 mph on a freeway in Lahr, Germany. This achievement fueled his belief that he could break the elusive 200 km/h (124 mph) barrier. Determined to accomplish this feat, Meiffret returned to the Autobahn near Freiburg in the summer of 1962, setting the stage for what would become his most famous ride.

A small feverish crowd gathered along the highway to watch Meiffret’s heroic attempt.

Meiffret adjusted his helmet, mounted the bike, and tighten the toe straps. Getting under way with a gear of 225 inches was something else again. A motorcycle came alongside and started pushing him. At 20 miles an hour, Meiffret was struggling to gain control. His legs were barely moving. At 40 miles, he was beginning to hit his stride. At 50 miles, the Mercedes with its curious rear end was just behind. With a wave of his hand, Meiffret dismissed his motorcycle and connected neatly with the windscreen of the Mercedes. His timing was perfect. He had overcome his first great hazard.

.....

He was now moving at 80 miles. News of the heroic attempt had spread, and the road ahead was lined with spectators. Everybody was expecting something dreadful to happen. Herr Thiergarten in the car showed Meiffret how fast he was going by prearranged signals. Meiffret in turn could speak to the driver through a microphone. "Allez, allez," he shouted, knowing that he had only nine miles to accelerate and decelerate. The speedometer showed 90.

....

The Mercedes performed flawlessly. People could not believe their eyes. What they saw was the car in full flight with and arched figure immediately behind, legs whirling, jersey fluttering, wheels quivering. "Allez, allez," gasped Meiffret into the mike. In the car, the speedometer crept past 100 mph, then 110 and 120. Anguished, Zimber looked into his rear-view mirror. How could Meiffret keep himself positioned? It was fantastic.

At the flat, the speed had increased to 127. Faster than an express train, faster than a plummeting skier, faster than a free fall in space. Meiffret's legs were spinning at 3.1 revolutions per second, and each second carried him 190 feet!

Meiffret eventually finished the ride clocking 127.342 miles an hour (204.937 km/h).

Meiffret’s record stayed for 34 years until it was broken by Dutch cyclist Fred Rompelberg, who achieved a mind-boggling 268.831 km/h (167.044 mph) on the Bonneville Salt Flats in 1995. This was broken again by an American woman, Denise Mueller-Korenek, who currently holds the world record with a top speed of 183.93 mph (296 km/h) set in 2018, again at Bonneville.

Correction: Jose Meiffret’s record was beaten in 1973 by Allan Abbott, who reached 223 km/h (139 mph). This was again bettered in 1985 by John Howard at 244 km/h (152 mph).