The rugged trails of Pocahontas State Park became a crucible of F3 fortitude as the Ragnar Trail unfurled its demanding course over two relentless days. Two 8-man bands of F3 brothers, including the tenacious crew from F3 Roanoke, plunged into the wooded depths, each leg a visceral test of both sinew and spirit. The exchange points pulsed with nervous energy and booming cheers, a constant churn of muddy warriors slapping hands and red,green or yellow slap bands, and launching back into the fray, each returning with tales etched in sweat and dirt of hills conquered and obstacles overcome. The cloak of nightfall added a primal dimension, the solitary beams of headlamps slicing through the inky blackness as runners embraced the suck, their rhythmic footfalls a testament to unwavering resolve. The legendary Snuff, our self-proclaimed serpent sentinel, kept a watchful eye for any lurking copperheads, while the indomitable Dookie ventured into the moonlit gloom for his final leg, the eerie glint of deer and spider eyes his silent companions. Saturday witnessed a Herculean push towards the finish line, weary limbs somehow summoning hidden reserves, fueled by the unbreakable bonds of brotherhood and the tantalizing scent of victory. A few hard-fought tumbles punctuated the effort, gravity claiming victims as fatigued legs faltered on unseen roots. Sable spent his final yellow lap eating humble pies as he passed the camp walking when no one was watching. Our fearless captain Belay was “on” as he completed impressive sub 40minute lap times and helped to tether us closer to an ever increasing finish time. A hearty AO clap goes out to Tin Man, our venerable 50-year-old camping virgin, who, between fits of side cramps, laid down impressive lap times with a stoic grin and minimal sleep. The Ragnar Trail at Pocahontas was a potent forge of F3 fellowship, pushing each man beyond perceived limits and hammering home the enduring strength of our shared commitment. By the time the final runner crossed, any semblance of machismo lay vanquished in the parking lot, a testament echoed by the announcer’s booming pronouncement of FNG “Catfish’s” triumphant completion. With such a solid group and a chance appearance from F3 “Last Time” may the low hanging fruit of this Richmond native CSAUP garner more than 2 teams in years to come. Shall we stoke a rivalry with our Roanoke brethren to galvanize attendance. This AI aided back blast brought to you by team AYE AYE co captain Machismo for his spin on II and AI interplay. YHC is thankful for the brotherhood but also for a quiet bed tonight without bullfrogs, crickets, and geese.
