Wednesday, September 20, 2017

Tour de Flatirons, Stage 2


Stage 2 of the tour was the ultra-classic Trifecta: Freeway on the Second Flatiron to the East Face of the First Flatiron to the East Face of the Third Flatiron. Every scrambler knows these routes and every time the course covers them the field size increases. With no possibility of anyone getting lost or confused, my chances of doing well drop precipitously.

We ran this stage two years ago and Matthias set the course record in a time of 57:39. He was the only one to break an hour. This year the field was faster.

The field was so large that we split into two waves, two minutes apart. I divide the field by whoever ran under 1h20m in stage one and that put me (1h09m in stage one) last in the first wave. When I ran by Sheri, who was taking photos, I wasted valuable oxygen, saying "I'm not last. Second wave in two minutes." To add more injury to humiliation, I got caught and passed on the Second Flatiron by Michal. I didn't know him?!  Yeah, what was he doing here? If you are going to bandit a Minion race have the decency to stay behind Satan, please. And it got worse. As he went by he says, "I hope I'm still doing this when I'm your age."
The Minions flying up the East Face of the First Flatiron
"My age?" What the hell does that mean? It means I'm old and I look it. Dang. I hardly ever see myself and was under the impression that I was just one of the Minions. I usually finish in the middle of the field. I've never that phrase directed at myself before. I said it plenty of times, mostly to my buddy the Loobster. Now I know how it feels and I didn't like it much. It was too early to say that me. Maybe in a couple more decades, when I'm 40+35, but not when I'm a spry (again with my delusions) forty-fifteen-year-old. I've been using that technique of saying my age for five years now. It's more than novelty. I feel younger. I feel like one of the group. I caught up to my 20-year-old neighbor David Bonan higher up and tailed him to the top. David was doing his first Tour de Flatiron stage. As I raced right behind him down the trail, heading for the base of the First Flatiron, two hikers stepped off the trail to make way. We passed by and one called out, "How old are you?!" What's up with this? I must not be one of the guys, but instead some freak-show spectacle. People seemed to be surprised I've ditched my walker.

Up ahead, the real battle was raging.

Kyle and Cordis - the youth brigade - continued their battle, destined to last the entire Tour. Per the script, Kyle barely stays ahead of Cordis on the rocks and tries to hold onto his lead on the run out. This time Cordis made a number of moves to pass Kyle on the Third, the last of the scrambles, but couldn't get it done. Kyle stayed in the lead on the rappel and even down the talus back to the smoother trail, but then Cordis, the faster pure runner, ran him down and took his first stage victory ever. They both broke the course record, finishing in 56:16 and 56:27. Jason Killgore became only the fourth scrambler to break an hour when he took third in 59:50.
Colleen rapping off the First Flatiron

I took my son Derek in the first stage, but only because it was his first stage ever and it was long and had a couple of tricky downclimbs and he got a bit lost on the descent. By ignoring all that, I was able to convince myself I might have a chance to retain the family title. Alas, I'm getting a huge dose of reality in this year's Tour. Derek left me at the start and widened the gap the whole way. He was chasing Danny, but Danny pulled away from him. Derek was running scared, not wanting his dad to catch him, when he got to the Third Flatiron. Fellow Minion Jon Sargent was there with his daughter taking photos. Injury put him out of the Tour this year. He asked Derek, "Where's your dad?", but in Derek's hypoxic state he heard "There's your dad" and thought I was right behind him. He thinks, "Crap!" and looks over his shoulder. I'm not there.
Cordis pegging the effort to take the win over Kyle by just 11 seconds.
I'm way back there chasing Nikita on the link from the First Flatiron to the Third. He always starts way faster than me and I frequently catch him later in the stage. He's a fitter guy and a faster runner, but I'm a quicker scrambler. I take the high shortcut to the base of the Third and start up just a few seconds in front of him. I give it all I have to stay in front and try to build a gap over him, as I know I'll need it on the way out. When I get to the summit world-famous mountain athletes Anton Krupicka  and Joe Grant are there to hand me a fixed line and make sure I get on rappel safely. Having guys like that come out and support you is one of the very special aspects of this stage. Both have raced the Tour before, but injuries kept them away this year.

I zipped down the line and ran scared all the way back to the finish, holding Nikita off. I finished 17th out of 35 in a time of 1:15:45. Derek was 13th in 1:11:48. Derek had to out run Craig, a running specialist, but not with the pure speed of a 19-year-old. Sonia set the women's course record in 1:27:03 and four women finished the course.
Satan's Minions after Stage 2
We ended up creating quite a scene there at the ranger station, what with 35 scramblers and some spectators, photographers, family members and friends. We had beers (soft drinks for Derek and I) and Sheri brought watermelon. It was pure a gathering of energy, happiness, and camaraderie. This feeling I get, with everyone chattering away about the stage and cheering everyone one and supporting everyone's effort, this feeling is the best part of the Tour, for me at least. Maybe it's not quite the best for Cordis. Taking the win has to feel pretty dang special.

Kyle and Cordis recovering after an hour of intense competition.



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