Smøüldering Midget X: Rise Of The Spin Cycle

A real runner, not me, a long time ago.

Smøüldering Midget X commenced under a brightening gray-light with a breathtaking roster of talent. The event sponsors were pleased at the massive turnout which would maximize viral marketing efforts for D&L Holistic Industries' "Trail Porn Light", Offshore Vacuum Party Gmbh, Hannah Montana Man-Bras, and "Sturdy, the Feral Mule" Outdoor Leadership, LLC.

In the end, this event would yield a surprising new development to the traditional "Thing 1/Thing 2 Kontest fur World Domination®™". Since Ian Torrence was a no-show, I moved up a full 3 places. Full deets below the jump.


In a category all her own, she'd expressed pre-event speculation that as a rapidly-aging, over-the-hill mother of a young daughter, would be slow, etc. In a rare lucid moment, I didn't bet her on the outcome, and so did not forfeit the pink-slip to my car, house, speedboat and ATV. She also played her cards cannily by taking a right turn at the Notch, ostensibly to "save her legs" for some upcoming event, but in reality getting back for the Ratt/Dokken double-header down below the Polyester Curtain.

Local boy who grew up on the mountain, back when his contemporaries were mulletting things over in their fragile, eggshell minds; keeps his visions to himself.

The only member of the famed "Icy Hot Stuntaz 02" Team to show this year, "Jay-G" modestly talked smack about his diminished abilities, yet ran away from his last remaining reminder of running mediocrity on the long approach to the Mt Baldy Summit.

Beneath his signature hat, all cunning and guile behind a genial smile and a killer downhill style. When he takes air, he shows the New Jack how its done, old-school.

Hitching up his 54" waist/18" inseam shorts to his full 4'10 height, he began the run with a full-salvo from the Missing Man Formation of Barking Ducks. His scanty training combined with florid limitations proved fatally comedic for hapless Big-Horned Sheep on the mountain, of whom several expired from the sheer improbability of it all.


Putting on my Big Boy Pants and toy sunglasses, I lurch from the Third-Person Improbable to the First Person Singular. Look out.

I got my head handed to me in a take-out box. Mt Baldy and 3Ts: 6,000' of climb over 20mi, is about 2x my previous efforts, and higher than I've been in several years. Everybody else ran off ahead of me, which is impressive as we were all going uphill. Even the Bighorns mocked me by blowing Lucky Strike smoke in my face, then mooning me. Bristlecone Pines shuffled off when they saw me coming, and the squirrels in the branches cracked their nuts.

Early on, Miss Miwok surged ahead, flinging altitude gain an uphill miles aside like generic kettle-balls. Casino Bingo and Larry "OG" Grill fought gamely to keep the lid on the Red-Headed One. Shooting off the top of Mt Baldy, ignoring the GPS Day Hikers, Hiking Betties, and confused hiking-stick wielders, they blasted down to the Notch.

Miss Miwok and Jay G ricocheted off the Notch, and took the fabled right turn down to Wanker Flats. Casino Bingo and OG elected to take up a hobby while waiting for the tardy Mr Trail Safety. In the fullness of time, I arrived, and convinced me that I didn't look that bad. Pulling myself up to my full 4'3" height, I concurred, without knowing why. Off to the Three T's!

Proceeding eastward on the Trail of Tearz®™, we begin the ascent to Mt Thunder. But before we can get too comfortable, we're on a character-debilitating downhill stretch to a seductive saddle, followed by a long climb up to Telegraph Peak. Bingo and OG surge ahead, and Mr Trail Safety is left with his two remaining brain cells, who aren't talking to each other. Life's good! At the top of Telegraph, I encounter two men who I realize are the grandsons of Bingo and OG. They look just like them, imagine!

[Insert more running poot here; meditative musings about calories, hydration, moral uplift, etc. Then the part about the lithe hottie in the bright magenta jog-bra.]

At Ice House Saddle, Enchanting Lytle Creek beckons, but such was not to be. We chose not to pass the duchy on the left hand side, and instead were sybaritic poodles and made the peloton to the right. This is where the Thing 1/Thing 2 Kontest was revealed.

By an arcane formula, the original Thing 1 was now a fraction of his former self, hereinafter referred to as "Thing 47/64ths". The New Thing One was none other than Larry "OG" Grill, representing' old-school, and shit. Setting a fierce downhill pace, Fractional Thing and Thing 2 could only marvel at his fury. Further demonstrating his Old-School Cred, he took epic air, fell, and left blood on the rocks, then got up, and kicked more ass to the finish. The Ice House Cyn Trail is all technical, with only the finest ball-bearings unevenly distributed for the enjoyment of the hiking public.

At this point, "Smøüldering Midget X" coverage cut away to a recap of Hollywood-rehab softball league coverage, so the finish results are ambiguous. Sponsors are enraged, and there are rumblings of legal action. There will be additional photographic evidence and a sealed indictment by later this week.


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