Pedals and Precision: Tudor Pro Cycling at the Grand Prix Cycliste de Québec

Québec City carries its history on every corner—stone walls, cobblestones, cafés spilling into narrow streets. For a few days in September, it also carried the buzz of race bikes and the weight of a UCI WorldTour peloton. Tudor brought us here to see their Pro Cycling team take on the Grand Prix Cycliste de Québec.

The race is unusual compared to most on the calendar. Instead of rolling through countryside, the riders loop through Old Québec, climbing and descending the same punishing circuit until it breaks them. Crowds lean over barricades, the sound of cheers bouncing off limestone walls as the peloton flashes past again and again.

Our trip began with a chance to meet the Tudor Pro Cycling riders. They rolled in straight from training, relaxed but sharp, already thinking about the course. Later, in the subterranean car park beneath Hotel 71, we were shown the workshop: rows of bikes worth thousands apiece, mechanics tuning, polishing, preparing. A hidden paddock carved out of concrete, the quiet backbone of the sport.

Dinner that evening was with Tudor and a handful of other journalists at Laurie Raphaël. It was polished dining, but the conversation stayed grounded—how a team operates at this level, what it means to link a watch brand with a sport that demands grit and repetition. FXD watches at the table looked at home: tough, precise, made for use.

Race day carried a nervous hum. The morning was cool, the sun cutting through by midday. From Tudor’s hospitality area we watched the peloton sweep past in waves of color before being ushered into support cars. Suddenly we were inside the race, tailing the four leaders as they pushed through the final laps. The speed was unreal, gaps opening and closing, gears clattering, the roar of the crowd swelling as they fought toward the finish.

Julian Alaphilippe took the win, arms raised as the city erupted. Tudor Pro Cycling had raced hard, holding their own against the strongest teams in the world. What lingered, though, wasn’t just the result—it was the access. Seeing the riders up close, standing feet from the best in the world, then minutes later crossing paths with them at the bus.

By evening, the barriers were gone and the city was sliding back to normal. For us, it ended as it began—with shared meals, conversations, and impressions. More than points or podiums, it was about seeing precision and resilience play out lap after lap until the final sprint was done. Tudor