Less than twenty minutes later, Kristoff was lined up alongside Gordon and Flying Scotsman, getting ready to start their race. Many people had heard of the three Gresley engine brothers racing one another from Knapford to Carlisle, and had gathered in crowds to watch this spectacle. News reporters and photographers had even reached the scene, snapping up photos of the competitors.
Kristoff felt that perhaps this was his time to shine- Flying Scotsman was a very famous engine, after all, and Gordon was famous too in his own right, due to his adventures here on Sodor.
But the most people remembered him for- aside from him being a hard worker and a good friend for those who knew him better- was when he saved Douglas. And although that was wonderful, it only reached Sudrian boundaries.
"Well, we'll see about that!" Kristoff's driver said, making him jump.
"Did you read my mind, driver?" Kristoff asked in surprise, making his driver chuckle.
"Nope- I did have some idea of what you were thinking, though." He replied, patting his engine's side.
Kristoff smiled confidently. He was determined to win- fairly, of course. Doncaster engines had their speed, and their integrity, after all.
"Well, are you two prepared to admit defeat now?" Gordon smirked.
"Now, now, Gordon- we haven't raced yet." Flying Scotsman replied. "You never know who will win- it could be you, it could be me, or it could be Kristoff."
Gordon didn't say anything as a man holding a green flag came up to them.
"Well you three, here are the rules: number 1- no shortcuts. Number 2- no underplay. Number 3- show good sportsmanship at the end of the race. Number 4- you get a ten minute window to stop to refuel as require. Do you have any questions?"
"No sir!" The three engines replied eagerly, keen to take to the tracks and show off their speed and stamina in the race to Carlisle.
"Well, on your marks, get set...GO!" the man shouted, waving the green flag wildly, and the three engines raced away to a volley of cheers from the station.
...
The sun shone and the weather was absolutely glorious as the three engines zoomed along the tracks, feeling the wind fly by their faces.
"This is nice!" Kristoff shouted to his driver.
"It does feel pleasant, yes!" Flying Scotsman answered as they raced past Wellsworth, where Edward blew a friendly greeting on his whistle. Kristoff blew his whistle for his mentor in return, and Scotsman also whistled in response.
But Gordon didn't answer Edward's 'hello' – instead he raced up his hill, with the same dogged determination he had when pulling the Wild Nor Wester on this steep gradient.
Kristoff felt this was rather rude of Gordon to ignore Edward like that- but he couldn't do much about it when they were racing for the title of 'Fastest Doncaster Engine- Out of a Trio.'
...
And so they cleared the hill, and passed many stations on their route to Vicarstown. Each station attracted huge crowds to watch the race and cheer the engines on. Engines that were at stations also whistled loudly to say hello and wish them good luck.
Kristoff felt adrenaline rush through his axels and his firebox was burning fiercely as he zoomed along the track like lightning.
Gordon was ahead of them as they rushed along the line- they sailed through Maron, sped on through Cronk, whistled through Killdane. The sky and the landscape blurred into blue and green as the three ploughed on.
Flying Scotsman overtook Gordon with ease back at Maron, leaving Kristoff third place. He gritted his teeth with determination, and as the trio approached Crovan's Gate, he put in more steam and managed to overtake Gordon, calling "So long, Gordon!" In a cheeky manner, very similar to Thomas, should he ever be in such a position.
Flying Scotsman was very fast though. Kristoff could tell that he would have to throw in everything he had to catch up with his famous older brother.
But he felt blown away as he saw the sun glisten on the glass roofs of Vicarstown Station.
That also meant that they were nearing the Vicarstown Bridge. Soon, they would have to stop and refuel.