So the alarm woke me from a deep sleep at 545. I can't remember the last time I sleep that well … an actual dream, wow. Not much of one, but a dream nevertheless ... might even have involved a few females, but I can't remember anything else at this point, doggone it.
Q: why did I decide this would be a good hour to wake up and go windsurfing?
A: Because if the lifeguards and toll-takers come, access will be finished for the summer at 8 a.m. And that'll be that -- it could be northwesterly windy and you wont be able to get in anywhere, that's why.
And besides, you told Lenny and Moostang you would be there.
And besides, you told Lenny and Moostang you would be there.
Grunt.
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| "Denied" no longer an option |
Outside, however, it's looking a little sketchy.
Signs of decent wind in the treetops, but nothing much touching down to ground level.
I'm sure when the sun gets its ass out of bed and gets its game on, the pressure gradients will light up and/or the wind will touch down. I don't know if that's scientific, but I've seen it happen before.
Signs of decent wind in the treetops, but nothing much touching down to ground level.
I'm sure when the sun gets its ass out of bed and gets its game on, the pressure gradients will light up and/or the wind will touch down. I don't know if that's scientific, but I've seen it happen before.
I'll spare Squid and Moo the embarrassing details, but suffice it to say, once I sent him the text message "Pair of stiffs," Lenny turned up, with a little extra persuasion.
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| Bad cell phone pic if Squidly from 200 yds at max mag. Think of it like an impressionist painting, then. |
At the beach, the lifeguards — or a team of some sort — were already doing sit-ups. Hopefully they would let me be. I cruised down to the end of the lot.
The car temperature said 49F. Shit! … if I thought I was going to get my first session of the year in without gloves, I was in for a cold awakening.
I rigged with gardening gloves in the cold, then put on a pair of surgical nitriles followed by a pair of dishwashing gloves. They kept the chill off just fine, but the nitriles — an experimental "liner glove" were too tight.
Nope, I was going to have to pay the winter windsurfers dues -- sailing in gloves at least until the sun warmed up — or I warmed up — some more.
I rigged with gardening gloves in the cold, then put on a pair of surgical nitriles followed by a pair of dishwashing gloves. They kept the chill off just fine, but the nitriles — an experimental "liner glove" were too tight.
Rigged the "new" used Ezzy wave SE 5.0. Oops … Didn't fit the new skinny 430 mast (too long). Wind picked up some more, so I rigged the old Gaastra 4.7 on a regular 400 mast and selected a floaty board with a lot of wave rocker and a 10.5 fin and headed down to the shoreline.
Mustang was right, a blowout spring moon tide and the water was knee high to 75 yards out. Watch out not to dig the fin. (If Stehli was this shallow, CIB would have been bone dry and waterless for a football field's length.).
The gear choice was about right, though, for a first time. Floaty enough to get to the windline, but … well maybe not so right, in a few moments the F2 255 Style was tailwalking in the gusts. Too much fin for sure. Well at least getting upwind was not a problem.
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| Head for the Hincks!! The reward for a mega session, a Lenny (the Squid) Special. |
With 0 frequent windsurfer miles in the last 6 months, this was a baptism of honking howling proportions.
I got in about 5 or 6 ugly runs before Lenny (he with the hurting ribs) arrived. The wind dropped a bit and he looked at my 4.7 incredulously, as if to say — "water looks nice, wind is not too crazy, my ribs don't hurt so much any more…" and rigged a 5.0. Just as the wind picked back up again to close to 4.0.
Lenny was determined to triumph over the conditions, and pushed the envelope pretty far that morning. getting swatted and blotted out a couple of times, re-breaking the toe, but not minding it all that much, he was having too much fun.
As for me: tired arms already I was beginning to flounder, so I shed the gloves. Well warmed up in the 5mm/3mm suit with a ti vest and hood, and a hot blood flow well established to the extremities; keeping the hands warm was not a problem.
Squid was on the ragged edge of control. Well at least I wasn't the only one tail walking out there. But give the man some credit, he pulled off a couple of successful jibes in some very overpowering winds for a 5.0. We hadn't sailed the same beach at the same time in years. This was some way to come back. Maybe not the high flying radical craziness of Hurricane Floyd but 100 percent fun.
This called for a second breakfast (the "Smart Start was fully burned off by this point): the "Lenny Special" at Hincks -- two eggs over easy, bacon, cheese and fried onions on a roll. More coffee. … For lunch.
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