Stacey tells the tale..
This has been a very tough week, physically as well as mentally. After catching a 5:30 AM taxi from the Best team rider house in Pecem on Wednesday morning, and spending all day sitting upright on a crowded plane, I finally got to Delray around 7 PM. I met Brandon (from Customer Service) and Scott (recruited at the last hour as our Ground Crew/Kite Bitch) at the Best office, where we loaded up the Forerunner, and were on the road to Tampa by 11 PM.
Brandon and Scott:
We arrived in Tampa just after 3 AM, and found a parking lot just south of the launch, where we tried to sleep for a few hours before the race. Being the only girl, I got to sleep in the back of the Forerunner, stretched out comfortably on top of all the kites, while Brandon and Scott slept outside on their blowup mattresses … until it started pouring. Scott immediately jumped back into the front seat, while Brandon (150 lbs tall, 10 lbs wide), looking like Spongebob Square pants, ran off with his mattress towards the trees, seeking shelter.
"Look! Brandon just headed the north with his mattress!" I shouted to Scott over the downpour, "His legs are going 'deedle-eedle-eedle-eedle-eedle' like a cartoon! I think he's heading for the trees!!" Then two seconds later, "Hurry up … LOOK! Here comes Brandon heading south with his mattress again … the trees mustn't have been enough!" Where's the video camera when you need it?
By the time Brandon came back to the forerunner, cold and wet, we were all too amused to sleep, so after a big breakfast at the kind of all-night breakfast place that has big glossy menus with a million choices, we headed to the launch, where … second car in line … we waited until 8 AM, for the rangers to open the park. Since it always takes me a long time to get reading to go kiting, I started getting ready right then … piling on my wetsuit, knee brace, harness … which seemed to make some people nervous and jittery, but I had to get the no-brainer stuff out of the way, so I could concentrate on the important stuff, like which size kite to take.
Jay Orkins(center), race organizer, who deserves huge props for all the work he put into pulling off such a well-run race:
When they finally let us into the park, I pumped up a 9 WPro, an 06 12m, and an 11 WPro, and took them all for a test drive, until finally deciding on the 11m Waroo Pro. The other girls were going on 11s and 12s, and I didn't want to shoot myself in the foot by rigging too small. Figuring out what to fly is very nervewracking … you just never know what it's going to be like out there, past the break, and then once you finally decide, you start praying that your kite won't spontaneously combust, that you won't snap a line, that one of your footstraps won't pull loose … it's horribly stressful. But having a good Ground Crew person is KEY, and Scott, by the way, was THE Ultimate Kite Bitch. I couldn't have done the race without his patient help, launching and landing and packing up all the kites I didn't need, and then driving the car to the finish line.
The start, which finally happened at about 10:13, was agonizing. We'd all drawn our positions out of a hat, and I was #7 … downwind of all the higher numbers … which was considered to be a very good spot: not too many kites downwind of me to get in my way. The only problem was that we were so far away, we couldn't hear any of the announcements. The first horn was the "10 minutes to go signal," the second was the "5 minutes to go signal," and the third was the "GO" signal. But we were all too nervous to be thinking clearly. Plus, when someone in front of you jumps off the beach after a horn blows, it's hard to keep yourself from jumping off after him, even if you suspect he's jumping for the wrong horn.
Needless to say, pretty much everyone down at our end jumped in after horn number two. DARN, because it was such a PERFECT start for me. I got my heel bungies on quickly, and the guy ahead of me got ripped off his board and accidentally sent his kite careening off to the left, leaving me PLENTY of room to dive my kite. I was one of the first ones off the beach, and quite happy with my performance.
Then everyone on the beach started screaming "COME BACK!!!" so we all turned around immediately … except for Rick Iossi, in position #1, who may not have been able to hear very well on account of his helmet blocking his ears. He kept kiting and kiting and kiting, and I started to wonder if he was ever going to come back 
.
So then, ANOTHER agonizing five minutes for the real start, which OF COURSE was not nearly as spectacular a start for me as the false start. Unfortunately for me, the guy who got ripped off his board for the false start failed to get ripped off his board for the real start, and I couldn't get my kite going since his was in the way. I was definitely NOT one of the start leaders. DRAT.
The race was 25 miles in the ocean. It started at Honeymoon Island in Clearwater, and ended 25 miles south at Bongo's Bar on St. Pete's Beach. Because of the wind direction, and the way the coastline runs (sloping out to a point, then cutting back in), there were two essentially equal legs of the race.
The first half was a hard right tack, which means you hold a hard upwind edge so that you can clear the point. (This was the fastest, and easiest part of the race in retrospect, although I didn't think it was easy at the time.) Then, as soon as you clear the point, the race changes, and you have to back off your edge and try to head straight downwind, towards shore, which is not easy. If you keep holding your edge, you end up in the middle of the ocean. The second half was the hardest part of the race, and compared to the first half, everyone's pace during the second half seemed to slow to a crawl.
The water was very choppy, and the swell seemed to be confused, coming at you at every angle. It was not an easy race, and honestly, not a whole lot of fun … at least not until it was over. THEN it was fun … but not during. I must've fallen at least 30 times, and had to bodydrag back to my board at least 10 times, despite wearing heel bungies. And every time I fell, I'd get passed by someone. I also did a lot of kiting that can't technically be called kiting … and a lot of skipping uncontrollably across the water, before throwing my feet into the air deadman style to avoid catching an edge, then skittering downwind on my butt while throwing the kite back to twelve, then sine-ing it aggressively back down so that I could pop right back up off my butt and keep going. Not pretty.
Within the first 15 minutes, I realized I wasn't going to finish in the top 10 (like I had last year). I quickly revised my goal: as long as I could be the first girl, I'd be happy. There was only one problem with that: there was already another girl way ahead of me, and I spent the whole first half of the race chasing her to the point. When I'd finally catch her, I'd fall. Catch her, fall. It looked hopeless.
Then, right after the point, just when it looked like I had a chance, I dropped my board and it took me a few tense minutes to get back to it. By the time I got situated, I looked ahead, and saw that she'd gotten about MILE away from me by then. Her kite was TINY. I knew there was no way I could catch her. MAN, she was fast … with that speed, I thought, she deserves to win. There was NO WAY I could even come close. I watched her kite reach the finish at the exact same moment I lost my mental steam. I kept going, of course, but the best I could do now was second … the first loser. Woo hoo.
Maddeningly, about 100 yards from the finish, I see Brandon out of the corner of my eye, pulling past me. Which causes me to drop my board yet again. He finishes less than 30 seconds ahead of me, and is exuberant. "I have to tell you," he says gloatingly when I get to the beach, "I was gunning for you the entire time!" I bite my tongue, but then … later … once I've had a chance to stew, I come up with the PERFECT retort. "You should've be gunning for the first GUY, not the first GIRL." Oddly, this makes me feel better, especially when I add under my breath, "I'm old enough to be your mom, for god's sake."
(But in all seriousness, for Brandon's first race ever, he did extremely well. I was quite proud of him. But it was a crushing blow for me, nonetheless. Not only was I NOT the first girl, but I was ALSO just beaten by Spongebob Squarepants. Sheesh.)
I land my kite, and am looking around to go congratulate the girl who won. I see her kite, but I don't see her. I roll up my lines, putzy around a bit, and then happen to look out at the water where the next person is just coming through the finish line. To my amazement, it's the girl I'd been looking for on the beach, the girl who'd already finished about 20 minutes ago. What the heck? I feel like I'm in the Twilight Zone. Simultaneously, someone comes up to me and says, "Congratulations, you're the first girl to finish!" Hunh?
I honestly don't know how that happened. A lot of people were flying the same-colored kite that day though. And when I crashed that one time and couldn't get back to my board right away, she must've crashed as well. And since I don't make it a habit of looking back, I'd just assumed the same-colored kite way out in front of me was hers. Which certainly explains what I'd thought were her superhuman speed capabilites.
Then, the horror of it all hit me: she'd been behind me the entire last section of the race … and was most likely gunning for me the whole time, like Brandon. And there I was, poking along, taking my time, depressed, thinking, "What's the point, I've lost." All I can say is, MAN, did I get lucky. I almost REALLY screwed that one up.
Me, being arrested by the undercover Best patrol, after accepting a non-Best board I won as my prize.
Billy Parker, Tampa Bay local, winner of the event, accepting his cash prize for his first place win, just as the cops show up to arrest him for kiting over the posted speed limit.
The girls:
The blond brigade: Billy, Mikey (who rode an 18m Nem Pro and thus deserves a huge mention), and Ray Leroy:
Lessons Learned:
1) Never give up, even if you think you've lost. Run your own race. Don't look ahead, don't look behind. ANYTHING can happen. You just NEVER know. Race yourself, and make sure you beat yourself. Because maybe the person you THINK you're chasing, who is now 2 miles ahead of you, is actually someone else, and if you give up in the middle of the race, and the person you think you're chasing is actually behind you, you just might find yourself drinking her board spray.
2) Try to convince your R&D guy to design you a super-safe invisible board leash, that no one can see except you … you don't want anyone mistaking you for a kook . Ideally, the leash should disintegrate when it senses danger (like when it's wrapped around your neck, or when the board is heading towards your head like a torpedo), then magically re-assemble itself when it senses you need it (like when you simply fall off and need to pull the board back towards you.) Having to bodydrag back to your board REALLY sets you back, so for the Jupiter race, I think I'll be kooking myself up .
