John Borland Wadley (1914 – March 1981) was an English journalist whose magazines and reporting opened Continental cycle racing to fans in Britain.
He and a friend, Alf Kettle, were between the towns of Kelvedon and Coggeshall when they took a wrong turning into a farm track by moonlight, riding by the light of acetylene lamps.
It was the first time Wadley had heard of the race, which was still in the era of daily stages that started at dawn and rode on unsurfaced roads.
He went to the world track championships in Paris when he was 19 and came home starry-eyed over riders like Jeff Scherens and Lucien Michard.
When not required for race-reporting duties in England, he would load the panniers of his bicycle – spare clothes and maps in one, a portable typewriter in the other – and take to the roads of France, Belgium Holland.
And back would come the reports – of major Tours, French classics, frenetic kermesses over the Belgian pavé, or six-day dramas on the steep banking of indoor velodromes – or interviews with current riders or with those whose exploits had once made cycling history, or simply touring features that depicted the appealing variety of the terrain through which he travelled.
[2]Wadley left the magazine two years later and joined the press department of the bicycle maker, Hercules, which was sponsoring prominent British riders to break long-distance records.
With the return of peace, he became one of three press officers for the sport's governing body, the Union Cycliste Internationale when the Olympic Games were held in London in 1948.
[2] It was produced at the home of Peter Bryan, Wadley's editor at The Bicycle,[5] with help from a photographer, Bill Lovelace, and a designer, Glenn Steward.
His role was "friend of the stars", providing insights into Continental racing at a time when Cycling concentrated on domestic issues.
The cycle parts importer and advertiser, Ron Kitching, wrote: This was a real innovation and an instant success.
It was filled with exciting stories of both home and overseas events, written not only by Jock himself but also by the top cycling writers of the day – like René de Latour, Harry Aspden, Charles Ruys and Dick Snowden, Geoffrey Nicholson and David Saunders.
Wadley's assistant editor, John Wilcockson, said: "We were thrilled with the first issue that came off the presses, even though the colour reproduction was pretty awful.
Wadley wrote in his first leading article: I had launched [Sporting Cyclist] because I knew the cycling world wanted it.
Yet within a few years, after a series of mergers and takeovers, Sporting Cyclist found itself under the control of a giant publishing organisation whose business, understandably, was to make money.
A small monthly magazine supported by what it considered to be a "dying industry" was obviously of little interest to such a concern, and its eventual merger with Cycling was simply a matter of time.
[8] Few cyclists featured in Wadley's writing as much as Tom Simpson, the first Briton to wear the yellow jersey in the Tour de France.
Wadley went there to report, specifically on a promising Irish rider called Seamus Elliott, who had won his place as a prize in the previous year's Tour of Ireland.
I have done 25 miles in 1hr 34 seconds, which is the fastest time for a 16-year-old in England this year.I would like to know, if you think it is advisable to compete in so many different events, and also what greatest mileage I should race.
Regardless of whether he was composing an account of a race, interviewing an old-time, retired cyclist, or describing a leisurely tour, he always used this technique.
After reading the story, local cycling legend John Hathaway committed to ride the Audax version of PBP in 1976.
Three years later Hathaway returned to France with fellow randonneur pioneers Dan McGuire, Gerry Pareja, and Wayne Phillips to participate in (and complete!)
He was attacked, against a tradition that the race leader would be left to ride to Paris in glory, by the Frenchman Jean Robic.
Wadley had met Brambilla but never remembered to ask the truth of the story that he was so upset by his defeat that he buried his bike in his garden.
Wadley thought the Italian veteran (now 53 years old) would have been miles ahead, but he'd overslept and set out an hour late.
Wadley remembered the buried bicycle story and called out, but too late... the chance to confirm or scotch missed.
Chanin wrote: Peter Bryan said: "Wadley's beautiful turn of phrase could be applied equally to a touring theme or race report, and he carried you, the reader, along with him as though you were riding and hearing his words borne from the front saddle.
"[2] Ron Kitching said: He wasn't ruthless enough to be a businessman, he just floated through life absorbing the cycling scene and reflecting it in his articles and books.