Post by ibex on Feb 8, 2009 19:37:35 GMT -5
So at 1:30 this afternoon, the wheels started turning with Wing's email to the list about going iceboarding on the ice shelf on the S shore of Cayuga lake...
I hem and haw, given that I had already spent the entire morning slacking off from work by going skiing, but ultimately pack up and head down to the lake to check out the conditions. The wind was rocking(!) in the high teens, possibly pushing 20, from NNW, the ideal direction for the S shore of Cayuga. Beyond the shelf, I could see a sea of whitecaps and was thinking how truly Baltic it would feel to be among those waves right now... The ice was in good shape for being through 2 days of temps into the 40's, with a slightly wet-granular surface and over 9" deep everywhere I tested it (even several hundred yards out).
I meet Wing as he pulls in, and check out his sweet assortment of ice/wind toys (multiple boards, kites, sails, etc) and decide to go pick up my board and rig. Fortunately when I got back to the lake with my gear, the wind had died down a bit, and it felt like the low teens and I pile my gear out of the car.
Now one thing that clearly marks me as a newb here, is that I didn't learn anything from watching Wing carry(!) his unrigged sail/board/boom/mast out to the ice to rig there. Instead I decide that 20 feet from my car in the grassy area was a better bet, however the instant I unrolled my sail, I knew I'd made the wrong choice... For those who don't know, there is a sizable seagull/goose population that inhabits the S end of the lake, for what seems like the entire d**n year. So picture 6 inches of melted snow saturating the grass, and a uniform scattering of amorphous brown... 'stuff' with my 5.0 sail sitting in it as I rig. Yeah, next time I am rigging out on the ice shelf. nuff said.
Undeterred I head out to meet Max, Steve, Wing, and a friend of Max's out on the ice. It is slow going on the ultra-slippery wet surface, dragging 40lbs of gear, into the wind in order to get far enough out to where the ice is smooth. With little fanfare, I get under way and enjoy the smoothest ride of my life. The surface of the ice was gorgeously smooth, particularly given the jumbled history of smaller blocks that were clearly visibly imprisoned in a larger mass of fresh ice. The white blocks showing through the blue translucent surface looked a lot like an image of crisp white barnacles on the blue/gray skin of a whale. It was strangest thing to glide along and brace for an upcoming impact while going over a bump in the ice, and with shock realize that the thing you thought you were going to hit, was buried under the glassy surface like a bubble in a glass paperweight.
The objective of the entire iceboarding venture, at least from my perspective, has been about learning to gybe. To be honest, I had some reservations about going out today, given that on my last trip out a good friend of mine ended up in the hospital. The slightly gentler breeze was reassuring though as I mentally prepared myself for some gybe practice. The first few end predictably, with me not committing my weight to the inside rail of the board and getting thrown off the board in the middle of the turn.
The coup de grace of which was a particularly vicious separation of the board and rider, that sent me spinning on my back across the ice, like some 1980's breakdancer. At first I thought this was kindof funny, until I saw these little black mounds whizzing past me as I slid (still spinning) head first through a minefield of seagull cr*p. Luckily, when I came to a stop I did a quick check for skid marks and both me and my gear came away no more fouled than when we started.
After a few more attempts (in an area carefully screened for said mounds) I finally nailed a gybe, realizing that the key is actually momentum control and careful footwork. Like anything in a technique sport, it was a pretty magical moment, when you realize that what is important is nothing more exotic than learning how to stand on a board and keep it at a constant angle of bank during a turn. Not who has the fanciest gear, who is the strongest, the most athletic, or whatever. Its as simple as learning to dance with a stoic-faced partner (the wind), and when you finally learn to anticipate its moves; preparation collides with opportunity and something magical just... happens.
Upon the successful conclusion of a few more gybes I notice Suan out riding on an iceboard and some guy with a homemade-handheld kite out there on skis. We all take a few more runs in the golden-pink light of the fading sun, basking in another great day of fun provided by Cayuga lake before its time to pack up and head home.
I have to say, if gybing on water turns out as well as this (minus the pinball move through the field of half-frozen birdsh*t) its going to be a pretty sweet windsurfing season.
Have a great night everyone!
Shawn
I hem and haw, given that I had already spent the entire morning slacking off from work by going skiing, but ultimately pack up and head down to the lake to check out the conditions. The wind was rocking(!) in the high teens, possibly pushing 20, from NNW, the ideal direction for the S shore of Cayuga. Beyond the shelf, I could see a sea of whitecaps and was thinking how truly Baltic it would feel to be among those waves right now... The ice was in good shape for being through 2 days of temps into the 40's, with a slightly wet-granular surface and over 9" deep everywhere I tested it (even several hundred yards out).
I meet Wing as he pulls in, and check out his sweet assortment of ice/wind toys (multiple boards, kites, sails, etc) and decide to go pick up my board and rig. Fortunately when I got back to the lake with my gear, the wind had died down a bit, and it felt like the low teens and I pile my gear out of the car.
Now one thing that clearly marks me as a newb here, is that I didn't learn anything from watching Wing carry(!) his unrigged sail/board/boom/mast out to the ice to rig there. Instead I decide that 20 feet from my car in the grassy area was a better bet, however the instant I unrolled my sail, I knew I'd made the wrong choice... For those who don't know, there is a sizable seagull/goose population that inhabits the S end of the lake, for what seems like the entire d**n year. So picture 6 inches of melted snow saturating the grass, and a uniform scattering of amorphous brown... 'stuff' with my 5.0 sail sitting in it as I rig. Yeah, next time I am rigging out on the ice shelf. nuff said.
Undeterred I head out to meet Max, Steve, Wing, and a friend of Max's out on the ice. It is slow going on the ultra-slippery wet surface, dragging 40lbs of gear, into the wind in order to get far enough out to where the ice is smooth. With little fanfare, I get under way and enjoy the smoothest ride of my life. The surface of the ice was gorgeously smooth, particularly given the jumbled history of smaller blocks that were clearly visibly imprisoned in a larger mass of fresh ice. The white blocks showing through the blue translucent surface looked a lot like an image of crisp white barnacles on the blue/gray skin of a whale. It was strangest thing to glide along and brace for an upcoming impact while going over a bump in the ice, and with shock realize that the thing you thought you were going to hit, was buried under the glassy surface like a bubble in a glass paperweight.
The objective of the entire iceboarding venture, at least from my perspective, has been about learning to gybe. To be honest, I had some reservations about going out today, given that on my last trip out a good friend of mine ended up in the hospital. The slightly gentler breeze was reassuring though as I mentally prepared myself for some gybe practice. The first few end predictably, with me not committing my weight to the inside rail of the board and getting thrown off the board in the middle of the turn.
The coup de grace of which was a particularly vicious separation of the board and rider, that sent me spinning on my back across the ice, like some 1980's breakdancer. At first I thought this was kindof funny, until I saw these little black mounds whizzing past me as I slid (still spinning) head first through a minefield of seagull cr*p. Luckily, when I came to a stop I did a quick check for skid marks and both me and my gear came away no more fouled than when we started.
After a few more attempts (in an area carefully screened for said mounds) I finally nailed a gybe, realizing that the key is actually momentum control and careful footwork. Like anything in a technique sport, it was a pretty magical moment, when you realize that what is important is nothing more exotic than learning how to stand on a board and keep it at a constant angle of bank during a turn. Not who has the fanciest gear, who is the strongest, the most athletic, or whatever. Its as simple as learning to dance with a stoic-faced partner (the wind), and when you finally learn to anticipate its moves; preparation collides with opportunity and something magical just... happens.
Upon the successful conclusion of a few more gybes I notice Suan out riding on an iceboard and some guy with a homemade-handheld kite out there on skis. We all take a few more runs in the golden-pink light of the fading sun, basking in another great day of fun provided by Cayuga lake before its time to pack up and head home.
I have to say, if gybing on water turns out as well as this (minus the pinball move through the field of half-frozen birdsh*t) its going to be a pretty sweet windsurfing season.
Have a great night everyone!
Shawn
