NY Mayor's Cup - The Glickman Race Report ** Updated
Written by Joe Glickman
Tuesday, 16 October 2007
[Editor: Here's the Joe Glickman race report (now with full results and more photos)! Photos are from Mireille Miller-Young and Ed Ackers who were on the escort boat. See the end of the article for video links too...]
MAYOR'S CUP ‘07:
Bigger Better...But Where's the Beer Mate
If I had to list the five things Herman Chalupsky loves most
in life it would read: Beer, dogs, coffee, paddling, and women, though I
wouldn't vouch for the order of importance. The night before he captured his
second Molokai title in 2004, he quaffed 10 beers
and only stopped because his brother Oscar downed the rest. His post-race
consumption was twice that. Where
another man might start to slur his words at that point, I actually found him easier
to understand.
Herman rarely speaks about the races he's won - if there's
anyone in the sport not named Oscar who's won more significant ski races over
the past two decades I don't know who that is -- but he does brag about how
little he works, how little he trains and how much time he spends at his local
coffee shop. Hanging out on my home turf in Brooklyn in the days leading to the
Mayor's Cup, he downed so many lattes at Gorilla Coffee, the local java joint
he'd become addicted to on an earlier visit, that one of the gals behind the
counter asked if he could take her shift. In fact, he committed to the Mayor's
Cup long before race director Ray Fusco rustled up an extra $5,000 for first, primarily,
he told me, to pay homage to Gorilla's dark roasted brew.
Advert
Mayor's Cup 2007
But I digress. Three hours into the second annual Mayor's
Cup, a 46K circumnavigation of Manhattan,
Herman rounded the southern tip of the island with Greg Barton on his slip. The
two began surging 40 minutes from the finish. With $5,000 at stake and the
thought of chilled beer minutes away, Herman leaned forward and hammered into
the current and wind. Thousands of spectators, many out for a Sunday jog,
leaned over the fence and watched these two fit men in skin-tight lycra whaling
away in skinny boats rarely seen in these waters. Sucked in by the spontaneous
drama, they were shouting themselves hoarse.
Such a finish would have been nearly unimaginable two years
ago when Ray Fusco, a former kayak guide with a bold vision, called me to a
meeting to talk about his big idea for a race around Manhattan. "It's a stunning course in the most famous
city in America,"
he proclaimed with the gusto of, well, Ray Fusco. "Three rivers around one
island! It's a classic! What it would
take to get a world class field to this race?
My reply was simple: "Money."
Ray Fusco - man with a dream (Photo: Alan Weiss)
Ray Fusco's Vision
Ten months and hundreds of phone calls later, Ray's vision
was nearly a reality. Then, just three weeks
before the event, he learned he had cancer. "Screw it," he told me, "I have to
see this race through. I'll start treatment when I'm done." (Ten days after the
race he had surgery.) In Riverkeeper, an
organization dedicated to protecting the Hudson River, its tributaries and the
watershed of New York City (www.riverkeeper.org),
he found a solid sponsor; and in Greg Barton, America's greatest paddler, who
drove up from Charleston, South Carolina to do the inaugural race, instant
credibility.
Last year 43 paddlers towed the line at the North Cove Yacht
Cove, a stunning location on the Hudson in what
was once the shadow of the World
Trade Towers.
Last year Barton's sole aim was to break the record for rounding Manhattan in a kayak.
(The record of 3 hours and 44 minutes was set by Dorian Wolters, a former
member of the German Wild water Team.) Greg paddled at a mere mortal's pace, graciously
offered me his wash on the flat section of the course and carefully eyed his
GPS to make sure he was on record pace. Around Hell's Gate, a notoriously rough
section where the Long Island Sound rushes into the Harlem and East River, Greg took off. He crossed the line in 3 hr 21
min, six minutes before yours truly, and smashed the record by 24 minutes.
Ray at work - coordinating with NYPD's Capt Billy Church (Photo: Alan Weiss)
This year, Ray Fusco, his cancer in remission and his zeal
unabated, gathered more prize money, spread the word, and upped the total purse.
Herman signed on and Barton suddenly had a worthy adversary. When Ray found an
additional five grand for first, Zsolt Szadovszki, a former member of the Hungarian
National Sprint Team, and South African Ian Gray, 11th at the US Ski
Champs in San Francisco,
appeared. Suddenly Ray had a race.
Before the start (Photo: Ed Ackers)
Competitive - and 100% larger fleet
Nearly 100 paddlers towed the line. At the gun, a six-man
pack sprinted up the Hudson:
The Big Four were joined by Sean Brennan, a member of the US Olympic Sprint
Team, and Dorian Wolter. Brennan and Wolter fell off early and the battle lines
were drawn. Zsolt's pre-race plan was simple: sit with the leaders for as long
as possible, conserve his energy and put his nearly 20 years of sprint training
to full use in the last few kilometers. Gray, a laid back former rugby and judo
player from Johannesburg who has been training
with the US Olympians in San Diego,
CA, aimed to do much the same.
At first there were six: Ian, Herman, Zsolt, Greg, Dorian, Sean (Photo: Ed Ackers)
Heading up the wide, busy Hudson, I paddled with Brennan 50
meters behind the leaders with Wolters, Erik Borgnes, a paddling physician from
Wisconsin, and Rene Appel, the Olympic windsurfing coach for Hong Kong just
behind. An hour into the game, I headed out into the river, linked a few waves
off a power boat and scratched back to the front bunch...until they spied another
set of rollers and sprinted off again. Brennan made the bunch. Flushed with
lactic acid, I enviously watched the five up front turn right into the
protected Harlem River.
The Gang of Four
Halfway down the Harlem,
Brennan fell back. As traffic whizzed by on the FDR Drive, the gang of four moved south beneath
the towering skyline of New York.
Past Hell's Gate at the tip of Roosevelt Island
-- roughly 10K from the finish - the water turned choppy and Barton turned
anti-social. "Considering that we were two-and-a-half hours into the race, I
was feeling good," he said.
Down to the 'gang of four'! (Mireille Miller-Young)
Ian Gray, who'd done more than his
share of pulling up front, fell off and Zsolt dropped two boats back. "When
Greg took it up," Chalupsky said, I was battling." Herman decided that the best
way to slow Barton down was to pass him so that he'd assume he was strong.
Great logic if you can pull it off.
At the tip of the island, a ferry
three stories high, docked just before the duo arrived. Paddling in Durban harbor, Herman is
nearly as familiar with ferries as he is with fillies - or so he says -- and paddled
perilously close to the boiling water around the prop. Shot out on the back
side, he surged slightly ahead.
The home stretch - and fishing lines
The race was three hours old when
they turned into the wind and against the current. Herman hugged the wall, sprinting for every wave
refracted off the concrete. Barton sat just behind. His strategy was simple: keep
up a steady burn until he saw an opportunity to pass. Even if he had to wait
until the last 50 meters, he figured he was still in the hunt for the $5,000
first prize.
Herman and Greg sprint for the finish (before hitting the fishing lines...) (Photo: Mireille Miller-Young)
One kilometer from the finish,
Herman ran into a fishing line chest high. He tossed the line over his head and
powered on, losing only a second or two. Barton was less fortunate; the line Herman
tossed aside snapped back at him, catching first his paddle, then his torso,
and finally his wrist watch. It took him 30 second to shake free. Herman had to
duck two more lines, but by the time both men were back up to speed Herman was
ahead by eight boat lengths, and Zsolt was back on Barton's stern. Barton went
after Herman, dropping Zsolt, but it was too little too late.
Herman - just after breaking free from fishing line (Photo: Glen Green)
Herman finished in course record
3:14:45 - a dozen seconds ahead of Barton. Minus the fishing lines, would Greg
have enough gas to get by Herman into the wind and against the current in a
vicious chop? That's the $4,000 question. "I'd rather lose in a sprint finish,"
Barton said, "then get bogged down and never know."
But where's the beer mate?
But where's the beer?! Zsolt, Greg, Herman (Photo: Ed Ackers)
While Herman found the victory
sweet, there was a dark cloud over his happiness. When I finished, 13 minutes behind
the winner, Herman was already dressed. "Let's have a pig's ear, mate," he said,
using cockney rhyme for beer. I was half delirious and stumbled off to change
clothes. Dry and nearly cogent, he asked me again. Then again. Finally we collared Ray Fusco, who told him
the terrible truth straight out: we were in a City Park
and alcohol was prohibited. Herman took the news hard.
Pity the poor lad from Durban who
had to wait for the last finisher to cross the line hours after he had,
fortified with nothing but sub-par coffee until the awards ceremony. Standing up on stage with a ceremonial check
large enough to float a Class III rapid, it's even odds that he'd have traded that
hard-earned check for a case of Hansa Pilsner, assuming it was good and cold.