like sniffing a couple hundred
thousand magic markers
> like sniffing a couple hundred
> thousand magic markers
[ DiversiTech Systems]
Please remove the "-WhackThis-" to reply. God, I hate direct
How about getting in so much shred time in one day that you actually quit
from fatigue before the sun sets or the wind quits?
Or just getting in two back-to-back sessions, each perfectly and
consistently overpowered for over four hours, on a 4.2 and then a 3.7? Then
as you come in because the moon's not bright enough to continue, you sit
down in your van just as a new Star Trek: Next Generation comes on TV. You
eat pancakes right through NG, and then a new Star Trek: Voyager comes on.
By the time it ends you've eaten more pancakes, gotten out of your wet
suit, and settled into bed with expectations of being on the still-rigged
4.2 again at dawn. That's a great day.
Never Leave Wind To Find Wind
A GREAT DAY:
That panorama when I drive up to the beach. A thin line of blue
stretching across the windshield - that feeling in my gut when I fix on the
sail angles - raked all the way back and tips whippin like crazy.
Doing the dance for a mile out to the windline - finally I feel the
familiar pull in the harness lines - step back in the straps and it takes
off. It is a release from everything that holds me back - and I never get
tired of it.
Coming in over the swells and dropping into the pipe - water smooth now -
just screaming upwind going faster than seems possible
Sailing all alone at sunrise - closer to god than thee
A crash that hurts more than my worst water skiing wipeout - that is cool.
The feeling in my hands as you ride in the elevator up to work 60 stories
above - the roughness of my skin and callouses - shaking hands with another
Going down in the ba***t on a *** winter day and just looking at my
stuff - there is something perfect and artistic about the shape and
geometry of the gear
aaahhhhhh . . .
Tom O'Brien - Chicago
AHD, HiPer-Tech, MultiSail, etc.
Well, I had a good one last year. Great 4.5 day on Buzzards BAy
with perfect 4' swells/ramps. Then after that, wife wants todo the wild
thing in van, ( found some woods in Falmouth). Then an awesome meal
of fried clams at Mc Melmanys ( best I've ever had). I've yet to top
that day, and still think of it often.
> like sniffing a couple hundred
> thousand magic markers
Daily Surf and Wind Report for Estero Bay, California
I had to smile at Tom's apt and descriptive pictures of great days,
especially "That panorama when I drive up to the beach. A thin line of
blue stretching across the windshield - that feeling in my gut when I fix on the
sail angles - raked all the way back and tips whippin like crazy."
Here's our counterpoint to that pretty picture:
* That 10-mile-long dust trail between the freeway and the lake [partly
because we drive faster on the dirt road than on the freeway because we
ain't seen a cop yet on the dirt, and partly because when the wind blows
right down the straight road, it can whip up a dust cloud visible for 20
minutes before we reach the freeway exit].
* Watching carefully for coyotes or cattle, neither of which would be any
fun to hit at 75 (have never seen one yet on the road).
* The brown, scruffy vegetation, that my mid-western farmers in-laws
consider completely dead.
* Cactus everywhere, to peeing in the boonies can be risky and REQUIRES we
bring our own TP because the leaves are like a handful of fishhooks.
* The tortuous, rocky, brown shorelines, with only rarely a wisp of
vegetation to keep one sail panel off the gravel -- and the first guy there
gets to use the wisp.
* That ground, so hard that driving in a stake or screwing in a dog anchor
is impossible, so we tie rigged, unattached sails to handy milk-crate-sized
rocks. No shortage of THOSE.
* The sloped, natural rough gravel/rocks we stagger through in our bare
feet, hoping we are lucky enough to return ashore in a place at least as
But, ah ... an advantage: we are parked in the full force of the wind. No
schlogging allowed or required. As soon as our fins clear the bottom, 5
feet offshore, we're POWERED and facing a one-to-five-mile reach.
Then comes the "step back in the straps and it takes
off. It is a release from everything that holds me back - and I never
get tired of it" part, which makes the rest of it worthwhile.
As for "that feeling in my gut when I fix on the sail angles - raked all
the way back and tips whippin like crazy." .... We often don't have that
luxury, as I'm often the first one there, and sometimes the only one. Not
just the only windsurfer ... the only human being in sight all day. It's
spooky and invigorating, and it's strange to welcome the sight of a JET SKI
because it's your only company.
As for sailing alone at sunrise -- that's a great sensation, especially in
huge Gorge conditions when you just KNOW there'll be 300 more people in yer
face within an hour. When you beat the mod that well, you don't waste time
rerigging unless you're a full meter off. But at home, sailing at 3:AM is
fun, too -- on smaller lakes. Alone under the moon, or with a couple of
friends with glowsticks taped to whatever's convenient. (Would
glow-in-the-dark ***s work on a WARM summer night? If the sailing's that
good, they'd often fit! [apologies for chauvinist crudity!])
Then there's the look on your office-mates' faces the next day, after they
start ***ing about having a hard time walking yesterday and you tell 'em
what a MARVELOUS day it REALLY was.
The day I got blown off the lake and was huddled under my sail from the
hail stones and Jim "rescued" me and we got struck by lightening on the way
back accross the parking lot. Standing on top of a picknic table with a
roof (roof nails sticking out inches from our head) while the hail pounded
us horizonially on our legs. Boards blown off cars over huge trees. Then
Jim wants to go out dancing afterwards (no, please no...) and introduces me
to Joan, my future wife. "The day the lightening struck."
> Well, I had a good one last year. Great 4.5 day on Buzzards BAy
> with perfect 4' swells/ramps. Then after that, wife wants todo the wild
> thing in van, ( found some woods in Falmouth). Then an awesome meal
> of fried clams at Mc Melmanys ( best I've ever had). I've yet to top
> that day, and still think of it often.
1. A Great Day