Season 2014

[Bierzo Baggie]

Carrera Vertical Monte Pajariel.
1.3 km 300m ascent.
Here and at long last I managed to lure my bohemian Dutch friend into this murky subculture.

I had spoken many times to Roland of “the races” but he remained unconvinced, despite the innate climbing powers of the man.
“It all sounds me a bit competitive, I did once a half marathon in Holland and....”
“But Rolly,” I said “this is Bierzo, these races are more radical than road running. Hey, this is more subversive than a smoky Amsterdam coffeeshop. You’ll get high just running, errr ......no shit”

My powers of persuasion worked and Rolly rose to the bait.

We met up on the bridge. Only 12 other people showed up but that didn’t matter. El Che was organizing. El Che is an Argentinian running freak who can disappear for days on end. He knows thse hills better than anybody. The clock would start at the river and we would trudge up the CRAZY MOUNTAIN BIKER’S DESCENT to the antenna at the top of Monte Pajariel. The bikers call this trickle of a path “La puta que me parió.” Stick it in Google translate if you really want to know.

Anyway, I set off a minute before Roland. After a mere 5 minutes I could hear him breathing down my neck. Hats off to Van the Man, at this rate he’d take 3 or 4 minutes off me. Impressive. He passed me. One nil to Holland.

But as I suspected Roland paid for his early enthusiasm and I caught up with him on the steeper section in the middle where perhaps I had a stronger walking pace. Then just near the top the path flattened briefly before joining the firebreak to the summit. Here the Dutch master wound up those long legs and steamed past me for the second time eyes bulging, tongue out, like Arjen Robben on a mission to hell.

I had no answer.
There was no answer.,

At the top we both got our breath back. I suspected that Roland would probably never run another race.

“You’re a wasted talent,” I said.

“Yeah, ...wasted.”