1/21/08: X-Rated Kiteboarding's 60-mile Jupiter to Ft. Lauderdale Race: Redemption

Alternately Titled: Forgotten at the Finish

Posted Thursday, January 24th 2008
By Stacey Fonas

At 3AM, after tossing and turning all night, I quit trying to stay asleep. I get up and watch the Weather Channel until it's time to put on my wetsuit and meet Joe Ruscito at the Best offices at 6:30 AM. On the 1/2 hour drive to Jupiter, Joe tries to get us "pumped up" by playing some loud, fast music, but the last thing I need is for my heart to be pumping even faster ... I'm already incredibly nervous and on the verge of a heart attack. I need SLOW, calming music, so he gives me Karen Carpenter's "Top of the World." I don't even want to KNOW how that song came to be on his Ipod, but I guess I shouldn't be surprised. I'm the one who named him "Pollyanna," afterall.

Arriving

The riders meeting started at 8AM, the first possible time on the water was 8:30, and the start of the race was at 9AM sharp. So if you didn't pump up your kite before the rider's meeting, you really had to scramble after the meeting. Problem is, most people wanted to wait and see what the wind was going to do. It was already windy when we got there, but was it going to back off, or pick up? And what was it going to be like as we made our way down the coast: lighter, or stronger? So, after the rider's meeting, there was a whole lot of scrambling going on, with the usual amount of indecision and deliberation over what size kite to rig.

Video Steve and Sean Reyngoudt

Neil Hutchinson at the Rider's Meeting

Will, still asleep

Last year, we had Andy to tell us what size to put up. It was windy, I went with a 9. This year, we have Joe, with his balls-to-the-wall, be-as-powered-as-you-can-be, pick-a-kite-one-size-bigger-than-you-feel- comfortable-on way of looking at things. (So, you can guess where this one's going. We're all going to be overpowered, to the point where Brandon and Joe are going to be too powered to finish.) But, if Joe was going on a 13, how could I possibly go on a 7? I went for my beloved 10m Bularoo, and Brandon, like Joe, went for a 13. And that is how we picked our kites. Will, on the other hand, consulted only himself, and went for an 07 9m Yarga, the "money kite," he called it afterwards. (Note for next year: the "one size bigger than you're comfortable on" rule works great for dead downwinders; for a broad reach, go with the size you're comfortable on.)

Team Best: Will "Spiderman" Caldwell, Joe "Pollyanna" Ruscito, Brandon "Handlepass" Briggs, Scott

Joe gets on the water first, manages to get through the break, and is out there, safe, well before the start of the race. I see his kite out there, and think, Very smart ... good for him. (I tell him this later and he says, "It's only because I was litt out of my mind; but by the time I got out there, it was too late to come in and get a smaller kite." I'm glad I didn't know that then ... it might have demoralized me. He's never too powered.) I try to get out on my directional, but with the wind almost directly onshore, getting out on a directional isn't so easy as getting out on a twintip ... you can't just "power through" and ride over the sand, on account of the huge fins on the directional. First try, I found myself well south of the starting line, washed onto the beach. CRAP. I look at my watch and have 20 minutes to the start, so I try to calm myself down; meanwhile, I'm using up a lot of energy walking my powered-up kite back up the beach, and I'm thirsty already. I walk way upwind, and try again, and this time, it's the same frustrating thing. I can't get out. I end up on the beach, way downwind of the starting line, and now I'm really starting to panic. I look out at all the kites that have made it out and think: LUCKY! I run back up the beach one more time, and see Brandon sitting close to the start line, with his surfboard, and I know what's going to happen when he tries to get out there. "WALK UPWIND!" I say. "WALK UPWIND!!" ("I know," he says later, "I should have listened to you. I should've gone upwind but I didn't." He ended up having the same problem I had getting out, couldn't make it past the pier, and had to give it another shot, after the flag had gone up. Note for next year: Get out early. Starts are critical.)

It's now 8:57, and I only have 3 minutes to get out past the break and make my way back upwind to be north of the start line. This could ruin it for me, I think. If I can't get out there, if I don't have a good start, if I have to keep walking back upwind after the flag is up, I'm screwed. But miraculously, this time, I break through, and even though I'm very far south of the starting line, when I turn around to tack back upwind, I'm north of the starting line, almost immediately. Just in time. The green flag goes up, and everyone takes off, and I'm surprised by how many people are already in front of me, and how fast they get away from me. I don't look back for awhile, but when I do, there are maybe half the kites behind me. I seem to be right in the middle.

But I can't pay attention to other kiters, because there's too much going on around me that is threatening to take me out. It's me against the ocean, and to a lesser extent, it's me against the wind, and occassionally my equipment. My kite, even at 12, is still pulling hard, but at times I'm glad to be so powered ... I need it to get away from the huge waves that are snapping at my heels. But as powered as I am, I don't ever think: I am WAY too powered, I can't hold this down, I've got to give up, and that is one of the MANY reasons I love my Bularoos so much. I try to listen to music, but the earplug keeps falling out every time I crash, and even though it's nice to have music, it's distracting, so after a while, I give up trying to put the plug back in my ear.

I've memorized how far the inlets and piers are along the race, so I know exactly how far I have to go until the next one. Each section is different, with it's own set of challenges, and I have to pay attention the entire time. Right before the Lake Worth Pier ... the one with the three big pylons sticking up out of the water ... I don't give myself a wide enough berth, get munched by a wave, and get pushed uncomfortably close towards the pier. There's no way I'm going to clear it, but I've got to get out of there, because the next wave is going to push me right into it. I cut upwind as hard as I can, thankful for the upwindability of my directional, but there's still no way I can clear the pier. I make a risky decision and charge between two of the pylons, hoping I have the timing right, and I do. Very close call.

I spend the next 36 miles running from waves ... hanging on for dear life, trying to creep my kite back to 12 before I explode off my board. I'm 3/4s of the way in on my depower strap, and could use a little more, but I find I need that extra bit of responsiveness to pull me away from the waves. But even as litt as I am (Melissa, I find out later, was on an 8, litt out of her mind), I can manage the 10. At times, I'm levitating off the water, which gives my legs a tiny rest but not a very big one. I lose my board twice and am happy to have a board leash. I needed it. I am not going fast enough to pass anyone, but a few people pass me. When I look behind me, I can only see a few kites, and I have no idea where Melissa Gil is. I hadn't had time to notice what color her kite was, but if she's ahead of me with that pack up there, I think, there's no way I'm catching her. Although at times I'm going as fast as I possibly can by default, I'm pacing myself for the long haul, not burning myself out at full speed.

When I get close to the Delray Checkpoint I think, "Ahhh, Delray, my home," and then immediately get taken out by a monster wave, and am afraid I'm going to end up in the swim zone and get disqualified. Nice home, bastard! No wonder I hate kiting in Delray. I run by the Delray Checkpoint, shout out my number, and Sue cheers. I ask her if I'm the first girl, and although she probably didn't hear me, she knows what I'm asking, and she shouts, "YES!!! FIRST GIRL! Woohoo!" I immediately catch my fins on the sand and land on my head. I look over my shoulder and see only 3 kites behind me and I'm pretty sure they're not Melissa, so as long as I just maintain, don't do anything kooky, and just keep going, I should be able to be the first girl to finish.

Last year, I could stop paying attention after Delray. This year, I had to pay attention the whole way to Ft. Lauderdale, where the waves finally stopped threatening to eat me and turned into chop ... 10 miles of mindless, boring, uncomfortable chop. It felt like a never-ending downwinder to hell, and I needed water so badly. I was not having fun, and I kept wondering why I keep putting myself through this torture and pain. FINALLY, I get to the finish line. I see Neil, and Terry, and they cheer and say, "Congratulations!! You did it! You're first!" and I'm happy beyond belief (not only did I redeem myself from my embarrassing results in the Naple Race, but I also overcame Shannon's stupid little bet that I wouldn't finish the race). Oddly, however, I don't see Video Steve.

Which is important for me on account of this: last year, when my sister Jodi and her husband watched last year's race video and saw Andy's cool entrance onto the beach, compared to my exhausted, drowned-rat DRAG onto the beach, they told me I needed to work on it. So I did, and although you can't really do a cool entrance on a directional on account of the fins, this time, I was a little more professional about it, knowing it would be judged and graded by my personal panel of Judgementals. So, when I landed in Ft. Lauderdale, I was fully expecting to see Video Steve, with his camera in my face, recording my "winning moment" and my graceful beach entrance for all posterity. But nope. No Video Steve. Hmmm. I land my kite, roll up my lines, and drink 2 bottles of water straight down. I look around for Joe, but oddly, I don't see him. Nor do I see Brandon. I only see Will and Sean. "Where's Jonesy?" I ask. No one knows.

The Finish Area

Here is what I find out the next day: HE FORGOT ME! That's all I can say. Video Steve forgot me! Forgot there was a women's category, forgot that I won last year, and somehow assumed I didn't even make it to Delray. "What? How could you think that? I was even 17 minutes faster than I was last year! When have I NEVER finished a race?" I said. "You have to remind me of these things," he said. WHAT?? I don't know. So, anyway. I'd like to take this opportunity to apologize: Jodi, Jamie ... I'm sorry. I tried. I had a really great entrance all planned for you, but unfortunately, it was not to be. All you get is this picture.

The Podium: Jeremy Lund, 1st Mens, Me 1st Girls, Mike Hall, 2nd Mens, Billy Parker, 3rd Mens

Thanks again to Neil and Terry and everyone at X-Rated and everyone else who volunteered their time and energy into putting on such a great, well-organized race. It's fun now that it's over and I'm really glad it's over and even though I never want to do that again, I'm sure I'll be back again next year, for 60 Miles of Torture, Round 3!

Billy Parker and Neil Hutchinson at the after-party at the Treasure Trove