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| Heir apparent Kyle Richardson |
Ah, Fall...the time when all good Minions turn their thoughts to pain. And, as he has for the past 15 years, Satan promises to deliver. Per tradition, the courses for each stage are only announced one week before the start. Typically the stages get shorter each week, tracking the available daylight. Kyle "Coffee Keeps Me Lean" Richardson had a full year to stew over missing the title by 14 seconds. If he was going to fall short, it wasn't going to be for lack of fitness. It was going to be for lack of preparation. It was going to be for lack of suffering.
We met at the Cragmoor Trailhead and unfortunately got a little attention from a neighbor, asking if we had a permit. Of course, we don't need a permit since each stage has 24 Minions. No more or no less (the permit size is 25 or more). The course was a long one: The Slab (Syzygy) to Fiddlehead (East Face) to Onoclea (East Face), with three fixed lines on the Fiddlehead and three more on the Onoclea.
Kyle made his intentions clear right from the start and led everyone, including defending champion Hall n' Oates, former Rattlesnake Ramble champion David Glennon, 2-time Tour champion Reinhold, world-famous shirtless runner Anton, and rookie Newguydanus. Peppering the trail behind those leaders were clusters of desperate battles. By the time Kyle topped the Fiddlehead, everyone else was racing for second place. Well, I wasn't. I was racing for, and succeeding(!), 22nd place.
Reinhold, out of the Tour last year with an injury, was determined to make his presence known. He wasn't able to defend last year, and wanted to teach these youngsters to respect their elders. Hall n' Oates was his first student. They went back and forth on the descent until the kid finally absorbed the lesson and fell into third place. Anton took fourth and Newguydanus made an impressive debut in fifth.
At the other end of the race, I was chasing O's and Full Gaynor with Beet Red Buckley closing fast. Once on the Slab, I sped ahead of O's and got a nice gap. Unfortunately, BRB slipped neatly into the gap. Once we hit the ridge of the Slab, Full Gaynor made a mistake looking for the downclimb. Clearly he hadn't done it before. Another Tour Rookie. I moved in front and FG slotted in between BRB and myself. This was key, as I had the downclimbed wired and clearly FG would not. I used that to my advantage and darted off the rock and down the trail, getting a nice gap. Alas, it wasn't long before the young, agile Gaynor caught me, but he needed a guide and stayed behind me. Off to our left, crashing through the woods off course was Nodin de Noggin.
On the long, brutal hike up to the base of the Fiddlehead, BRB once again appeared. She's like the Energizer Bunny. Or Wile E. Coyote. She never quits. Once on the rock, Full Gaynor went by and BRB closed a bit more. I put on a burst near the summit of the Fiddlehead to ensure my position in the queue for the rappel lines. I've never been so thankful to wait in the middle of a stage. I bent over and nearly puked, gulping in air in spasmodic gasps. FG offered to let me jump over him in line and, in the heat of the moment, I took it. I wanted as big of a buffer back to BRB. I'm embarrassed about this. It was wrong to take it. Gaynor was offering it because I guided him to the Fiddlehead, but that's part of racing. That happens all the time, particularly with me since most think I'll probably know the course pretty well. But I took it, displaying a lack of character.
I got on the rap lines right with Randall McDaniel and sped down them much faster. I zipped over to the Onoclea and pushed hard up the pine-covered lower section, trying to solidify my gap. Sir Crimps-alot was just ahead of me and might have felt the heat because he dropped the hammer and sped ahead, never to be seen again. It look all I had to stay ahead of Randall and Full Gaynor to the summit. Once again, I rappelled fast and increased my gap on those two. Once on the ground I stumbled, ran, and slid down the technical descent all the base of the rock. On the slip-slide slab I caught my right index finger on a sharp edge and it was sliced open and bleeding at a steady rate. Behind me I could hear the Randall, a big guy, crashing down behind me like an elk through heavy timber. I managed to stay in front down to the Fern Canyon Trail. A short ways down the trail, I yielded the track and he sped on by. Hewitt Full Gaynor was coming for me now. I waved him on by as well, but then caught back up to him on the climb up to the base of the Slab. He stretched out the lead again, but full down, on the smooth, wide trail, I saw him running very slowly. I thought I might be able to catch him again, but he heard me and he wasn't going to allow such an indignity. He just wanted the ease the intense pain, like us all.
Five of us finished bloodied. No major injuries though. A brilliant, brutal start to the 15th Annual Tour de Flatirons.
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