There are stage wins that merely add to a rider’s tally, and then there are wins that change the feel of a race. Tadej Pogacar’s Bastille Day victory in stage 10 of the Tour de France belonged in the second category. The Slovenian attacked on the penultimate climb, stayed away, and widened his overall lead to more than three and a half minutes.
It was a familiar Pogacar performance in one sense and a pointed one in another. He took the 10th stage with a solo move after a trademark attack on the penultimate climb, then crossed the line with Remco Evenepoel second, 32 seconds back. In a Tour that had already started to separate its contenders from its pretenders, this was another reminder that Pogacar is not just defending yellow — he is actively forcing the race to bend around him.
The route helped make that possible. Stage 10 featured seven categorised climbs, including the first category Puy Mary Pas de Peyrol and Col de Pertus, and the repeated pressure of that terrain slowly narrowed the list of riders who could survive the decisive move. Pogacar did not need a long, theatrical attack. He needed one opening, one moment of hesitation, and the legs to make the gap stick.
The response mattered almost as much as the result
Boos were heard from the roadside crowd after the victory, and Pogacar answered in the same calm, defiant register that has become part of his competitive identity. He said he has haters and that haters are going to hate, but also suggested the noise only gives more boost to his teammates. In his words, it puts wood on the fire. He also pointed out that cycling fans are the greatest in all sports and that 99% of people are cheering.
That is not just a media-friendly line. It reflects how Pogacar often seems to treat pressure as fuel rather than distraction. He even referenced Novak Djokovic and the mentality required to keep winning while absorbing noise and criticism. For a rider leading the Tour on Bastille Day, that composure is part of the competitive edge. The stage win was not only about watts and climbing pace. It was also about staying settled while the race and the crowd tried to turn the moment into something heavier.
The bigger picture, though, is Jonas Vingegaard. The Dane’s comments before and during the Tour have already given this race a more human tension than a simple leader-versus-chaser storyline. He said last year that if the season kept feeling the same, he could not be in it any more, and he has spoken about the strain of constant training, weight management and travel. His wife, Trine Hansen, has also described the cycling life as difficult because of the back-and-forth travel that starts in February and runs through the season. That background matters because it helps explain why this Tour feels so costly for him, not just physically but mentally.
Vingegaard has also said he always struggles on short climbs like this, which made stage 10 a tricky test even before Pogacar attacked. The attack did not create the GC gap by itself, but it confirmed the shape of the battle: Pogacar looks able to seize mountain stages when he chooses, while Vingegaard is still searching for the kind of answer that can stop the damage. After a life-threatening crash in April 2024 and a difficult run-in to the 2025 Tour, every hard mountain day seems to ask the same question of him: how much is left in reserve?
For now, the answer is that Pogacar has more than enough. He has the stage win, the larger lead and the psychological advantage that comes with making a major rival chase rather than dictate. The Tour is never settled in the first half, but stage 10 made the hierarchy clearer. Pogacar is leading by more than three and a half minutes, and at this point he is not just wearing yellow. He is shaping the race in his own image.
