Beyond the finish line: The hidden laundry life of Pro cycling

Beyond the finish line: The hidden laundry life of Pro cycling

Lucas De Bondt, soigneur (aka swanny) and masseur for Team Visma | Lease a Bike, shares the untold story of how every kit survives an entire cycling season—one wash at a time.

Published: October 15, 2025

In cycling, the race doesn't stop at the finish line. It continues quietly, in hotel hallways and mobile kitchens, through the hum of washing machines and the careful folding of fresh kits. Every drop of sweat, rain, and mud must be washed away - not just for hygiene and comfort - but also to preserve the sharp edge of professionalism. Behind this often invisible operation is a dedicated team, including people like Lucas De Bondt, Team Visma - Lease a Bike swanny and masseur who knows that taking care of clothes is like taking care of athletes.

From suitcase to start line.

Professional riders arrive at stage races with their gear carefully packed in their own luggage. "We don't bring kits with us from the service course," explains Lucas. "The athletes arrive by car or plane and bring their clothing themselves."

After each stage, every rider and staff member deposits their dirty kit in a personalized washing bag, labeled with their names. These bags are usually dropped off in what the team calls the food room—a temporary rider oasis filled with healthy snacks, fruit, nuts, and yogurt. "The food room is also where the riders hand off their laundry bags," Lucas says. "It's usually set up in the hotel's swanny room, which also needs the space for the massage table and food storage."

The laundry team on wheels

Keeping up with daily laundry demands in a Grand Tour requires mobility. The team relies on a set of washing machines distributed across their vehicles. "We have one washing machine in the kitchen truck, one in the mechanics’ truck, and one on the team bus."

Bus drivers often help out by starting a wash cycle while driving between stages, ensuring that some of the load is done by the time the team arrives at the next hotel. "That's already a big help," he adds. "It saves us a lot of time if one machine has already run by the time we're there."

Washing whites

Not all kits are washed in the same way. Over time, riders have become more mindful about separating clothing, especially when it comes to keeping whites truly white. "It actually started with Christophe Laporte," Lucas recalls. "When he was European champion, he brought two laundry bags: one for his normal yellow kits and one for his white ones. Now many riders do the same."

Laundry is usually washed at 86°F, but sometimes increased to 104°F for heavily soiled items. "At 86°F, you can still see the stains. 104 degrees is just more effective, especially after a wet, dirty race," Lucas explains. "Dryers are avoided entirely, both to extend the longevity of the garments and because riders prefer to hang their kits out to dry immediately after washing."

Accessories, especially white socks, are sacred. "They have to be really white. No brown spots, nothing," Lucas emphasizes. "Some riders even have a separate wash bag just for socks."

Special treatment for rain gear

Rain jackets are a different story. Washed with only hot water and no detergent, they're treated separately. "Rain jackets tend to hold onto soap," Lucas explains. "If you wash them with detergent, you'll see soap bubbles on the road the next day." They’re hung to dry in the kitchen truck, often overnight, with towels on the ground to soak up the dripping water. In colder months, they'll even put on the heat in the truck to make sure they're dry by morning.

Soaked, lost and found

With so many moving parts, mistakes are bound to happen, especially on rainy days when laundry gets scattered across trucks, rooms and dining halls. "We have a WhatsApp group for Swannies," laughs Lucas. "When it rains, someone always writes, "Tonight's going to be hell for laundry." And they’re right."

A normal laundry bag might weigh 2.2 or 4.7 lbs, but after a wet stage, it can balloon to 22–33 lbs per rider. Even with three machines, that's barely enough. Jackets are separated and different machines are used, yet things still go missing. Sometimes riders even cut out the name tags because they find them itchy, which leads to messages in the morning like: "Has anyone seen my rain jacket?"

Lost items do resurface, though — often days later, accompanied by a photo in the group chat, and finally claimed by a rider. "We try to be organized," Lucas admits, "but when you're dealing with that much clothing, things get chaotic fast."

Rider Preferences

Every rider has personal preferences when it comes to what they wear. Some, like Jonas Vingegaard, prefer racing in speedsuits—even on flat stages. Others, like Sepp Kuss, lean toward the classic bib shorts and jersey combo.
"Speedsuits are usually the first thing packed. But accessories like socks and undershirts really matter too—especially for podiums."

Advice to amateurs

Asked what advice he'd give to everyday cyclists, Lucas doesn't hesitate.
"Don't use the dryer. Really, that's the most important thing," he says. "If you hang your kit to dry, it'll last so much longer."

Keeping performance wear in good shape isn't about being fussy—it's about maximizing its life, function, and feel. Whether it's a race day in the Alps or a Sunday ride at home, care makes a difference.

Clothing that works as hard as the riders

In the high-stakes world of professional cycling, kits don't just need to look good—they need to perform, day in and day out. Whether it's a perfectly white sock, a well-aired rain jacket, or a clean speed suit ready for another day of racing, someone like Lucas De Bondt has made sure it's there—clean, dry, and folded.

"It's a lot of work," he says, "but it's part of what helps the riders feel ready. If their kit is right, they feel right. And that’s the goal."

The quiet craft

In pro cycling, apparel isn't just about aerodynamics or moisture-wicking. It's a craft, a culture, and a commitment. Riders rely on their kits not just to perform, but to feel right. And behind every fresh jersey is a network of people who make sure it's there—clean, dry, folded, and ready for another day of war on wheels.

So the next time you see a rider fly past in pristine kit, think of the swanee in a hotel room, the driver running a wash cycle on a winding mountain road, or the mechanic clearing space for another load of rain jackets. In cycling, every thread tells a story and it's the quiet care that keeps them going.