Post by amanda on Apr 26, 2009 6:36:03 GMT -5
The forecast for Geneva on Saturday had changed from SW to WSW between Friday morning and Friday night. Not sure if that would provide decent sailing at the north end of Seneca Lake, I contacted my wind forecast ace in the hole. Although Geoff was out of the state, he was willing to swirl some tea and consult the leaves for the good of one of the struggling-to-be-an-intermediate level members of the CWC. He said it should be workable and that I should go. Dutifully (ha! I was looking for an excuse) I packed up and set out.
I arrived at Seneca State Park at 11:00am, having driven the entire way up with the car windows open...in APRIL. I had to smile when I remembered that two weeks ago I was driving to Tug Hill to XC ski for the last time. The road for the last 10 minutes of the drive to Seneca SP runs so that if you have a SW wind, your car feels like it's being nudged off the road. That's become the sign that it was worth the trip. The second sign is that the branches of the willow trees at the park are at a > 45 degree angle to the ground. I've come to believe that it means the wind is going to put you on plane. Both boxes had been checked before I cruised into the marina parking lot. It was above 80 degrees and I had the lake to myself.
The wind was around 10-12 (said the kiter I met that wasn't convinced he should pump up) and I was excited to rig up my 6.3 Diva, which hadn't gotten wet yet. That required me to unleash my new boom (affectionately called Big Mama) and get the lines set on it. By the time I was rigged up and got in my 4/3 full wetsuit, the wind had gone down to about 8mph. Trying to remember that there are always things to work on, I went out. I was glad to see that I hadn't completely forgot how to tack and sail on the leeward side. The sail was much bigger than my formerly known as biggest sail, a 5.3. That meant the sail position and my foot placement mattered a whole lot more in order to not sink the nose or tail of the board. After a while, I decided that my camp chair and a snack needed to be rescued from the car and put to good use. I realized that I often operate on autopilot, even when doing things that are my release activities. I decided that it was okay that the wind was blowing and I was going to sit and take it in. It gave me a chance to talk more to David, the aforementioned kiter, who was trying to enjoy his book and the sun until I parked myself 6 ft away from him. We had a 5 minute conversation that reminded me of the things you say to the person who sits next to you on the plane, because you'll never see them again. The wind picked back up and I quickly wriggled back into the sleeves of my wetsuit, letting David get back to his book.
The next hour was up and down...often in the same 30 seconds. 3 times I had this experience: schlogging at 3 mph hooked in, light gust comes, lean into the harness, heavy gust comes, ejected into the water, set up sail to waterstart, wondering why i can't waterstart, realizing there is no wind, uphaul, schlog again.
I got out again, took my fin off and started practicing sail chi. For those of you that don't know, it is the windsurfing equivalent of Tai Chi where you learn to control and balance the sail with very little effort. I think of it as windsurfing meditation, which is good for us non-religious fidgety types in need of spiritual peace.
(If you've hung in this far, keep reading. I promise there will be 2-3 sentences about sailing
.
The next hour and a half was marked by increasing (but variable) wind. 3 kiters launched from the beach, which was encouraging. I spent some time planing, got in the footstraps and waterstarted. I was glad I pushed the schedule envelope by staying out for the last half hour (don't they always tell you not to take the "last run"?), as the wind was best after 4:00pm. It was a gorgeous and relaxed day; definitely what the doctor ordered (that would be Dr. Amanda, the self-medicator). I zoomed back to Ithaca to make good on the promise to pick up Sharon's birthday cake and deliver it to her party. It was a wonderful end to a really good day. I met and reconnected with some great people, got to hug Bubba and listened to Rick Redington play as the sun went down. His song "Sweet Life" is still playing in my head.
Amanda
I arrived at Seneca State Park at 11:00am, having driven the entire way up with the car windows open...in APRIL. I had to smile when I remembered that two weeks ago I was driving to Tug Hill to XC ski for the last time. The road for the last 10 minutes of the drive to Seneca SP runs so that if you have a SW wind, your car feels like it's being nudged off the road. That's become the sign that it was worth the trip. The second sign is that the branches of the willow trees at the park are at a > 45 degree angle to the ground. I've come to believe that it means the wind is going to put you on plane. Both boxes had been checked before I cruised into the marina parking lot. It was above 80 degrees and I had the lake to myself.
The wind was around 10-12 (said the kiter I met that wasn't convinced he should pump up) and I was excited to rig up my 6.3 Diva, which hadn't gotten wet yet. That required me to unleash my new boom (affectionately called Big Mama) and get the lines set on it. By the time I was rigged up and got in my 4/3 full wetsuit, the wind had gone down to about 8mph. Trying to remember that there are always things to work on, I went out. I was glad to see that I hadn't completely forgot how to tack and sail on the leeward side. The sail was much bigger than my formerly known as biggest sail, a 5.3. That meant the sail position and my foot placement mattered a whole lot more in order to not sink the nose or tail of the board. After a while, I decided that my camp chair and a snack needed to be rescued from the car and put to good use. I realized that I often operate on autopilot, even when doing things that are my release activities. I decided that it was okay that the wind was blowing and I was going to sit and take it in. It gave me a chance to talk more to David, the aforementioned kiter, who was trying to enjoy his book and the sun until I parked myself 6 ft away from him. We had a 5 minute conversation that reminded me of the things you say to the person who sits next to you on the plane, because you'll never see them again. The wind picked back up and I quickly wriggled back into the sleeves of my wetsuit, letting David get back to his book.
The next hour was up and down...often in the same 30 seconds. 3 times I had this experience: schlogging at 3 mph hooked in, light gust comes, lean into the harness, heavy gust comes, ejected into the water, set up sail to waterstart, wondering why i can't waterstart, realizing there is no wind, uphaul, schlog again.
I got out again, took my fin off and started practicing sail chi. For those of you that don't know, it is the windsurfing equivalent of Tai Chi where you learn to control and balance the sail with very little effort. I think of it as windsurfing meditation, which is good for us non-religious fidgety types in need of spiritual peace.
(If you've hung in this far, keep reading. I promise there will be 2-3 sentences about sailing
.The next hour and a half was marked by increasing (but variable) wind. 3 kiters launched from the beach, which was encouraging. I spent some time planing, got in the footstraps and waterstarted. I was glad I pushed the schedule envelope by staying out for the last half hour (don't they always tell you not to take the "last run"?), as the wind was best after 4:00pm. It was a gorgeous and relaxed day; definitely what the doctor ordered (that would be Dr. Amanda, the self-medicator). I zoomed back to Ithaca to make good on the promise to pick up Sharon's birthday cake and deliver it to her party. It was a wonderful end to a really good day. I met and reconnected with some great people, got to hug Bubba
and listened to Rick Redington play as the sun went down. His song "Sweet Life" is still playing in my head. Amanda
