Post by ibex on May 13, 2009 20:12:28 GMT -5
My days are filled with mistakes... most of them stemming from an errant comma, forgetting whether its the rows or columns of a matrix that come first or some other meaningless computer programming minutia. If the first rule of windsurfing is "never leave wind to find wind" - the first rule of computer programming, is "if it looks like its working, and its after 2pm, don't mess with it" because you are just going to find some stupid little mistake and have to redo a bunch of work. Its simply better to put the stuff down and walk away with the feeling that you accomplished something. The mistake will still be there to be found tomorrow and you can redo with work then, but at least get to enjoy part of a day *feeling* like you accomplished something.
Such was the tale of my day, and at 2pm I got an email from a friend of mine (stuck at work) asking "why aren't you surfing right now?" It just so happened that my code was actually working at that moment and I set in motion a big series of multi-day code runs, and lacking any reason not to, I grabbed my stuff and headed up to Seneca. The forecast was S at 16 and the flags along the way were all standing straight out from the flagpoles, providing reassurance of a good choice.
When I pulled in I could see one windsurfer out on the water (although I never got to meet them) and there were a bunch of kiters in the parking lot derigging. I asked what size they were riding on (14meter, which is pretty big) so I decide to rig 7.5 as the wind feels like its softening - despite a full set of whitecaps across the lake as far as the eye could see.
The first hour goes by with frustratingly little success at getting back in the straps. I can get in the front straps without a problem, but my 120L board seriously rounds upwind with every attempt at getting my back foot in. Even though I am pretty dejected that what seemed like a well-ingrained skill just days ago, now feels pretty hopeless... Every attempt felt like I was trying to ride a bicycle no-handed, while balancing on the seat on one foot. I had control of neither the steering, the balance, nor the power.
The universe provided a strong gust, that catapulted me into the cool water, and made me stop and re-examine "why isn't this working" and not surprisingly... I was repeating my earlier mistake of not bearing off the wind and letting the board accelerate. With this crucial piece of self-awareness in hand, at the one hour point, I finally make it back to the proficiency level I had gained at the 4 hour point in my last session, and enjoy some nice cruising with both feet in the straps.
The coolest part of the day was serendipitously being locked securely in the straps, weight leaning hard against the 7.5m sail whisking me across the water, at the moment when a big gust hit. I have written many times about the incredible sensation of a board coming onto plane... and to be honest, it was nothing like having the good fortune to be in the straps for this moment. I honestly had the feeling of staring out an airplane window, in that instant the wheels lift off the ground and in the span of a few seconds - the landing gear sucks up into the fuselage, the flaps retract, and those metal wings miraculously pull you skyward at an incredible speed.
Now imagine if you will - having your head hanging out the window when this happens....
In this moment I was going so fast, I settled into my stance to resist the pull of the sail, and I can feel the airfoil of the sail compress and change shape as the center of effort of the big 7.5m sail moves backwards, and I am SCREAMING towards the western shore of the lake. I had heard people talk about how when you start going really fast, you can feel the CE of the sail actually move, but this was the first time I had ever gone fast enough to clearly sense it. With both feet anchored to the board, I felt strangely... in control of the entire affair, it was a great big "hmmm... THAT wasn't so scary" moment.
A subsequent gust caught me in a less prepared stance, and tossed me headfirst into my mast in a mighty catapult, and the howling of the wind made me decide to just float with my gear for a minute until the gust moved by. In that brief moment of waiting, the monofilm of my sail started to vibrate and resonate with the wind gust that was roaring over its surface. It was almost as if there was one of those "massaging chairs" like you sometimes see in airports, poking and prodding the sail from underneath, each poke yielding a hissing buzz in the rush of air over the surface - and when I tapped on the sail, it sounded almost like I was tapping on a Caribbean steel drum. Amazed at my new-found toy, it was the most fun 5 minutes I have ever spent blown over in 3 foot swells out in the middle of Seneca Lake.
Another 1.5 hours of sailing alone brought me back to my launch point (first ever "no walk of shame" on a shortboard!) and I quickly derig and head home. The forecast looks "legendary" for tomorrow on Seneca.... 28 S. I don't know if I have what it takes to play in those winds, but since I have to drive by there on my way to school tomorrow anyways - I should try to get some more work done tonight and at least *see* if I can observe the first rule of programming twice in 24 hrs.
Have a great night everyone,
Shawn
Such was the tale of my day, and at 2pm I got an email from a friend of mine (stuck at work) asking "why aren't you surfing right now?" It just so happened that my code was actually working at that moment and I set in motion a big series of multi-day code runs, and lacking any reason not to, I grabbed my stuff and headed up to Seneca. The forecast was S at 16 and the flags along the way were all standing straight out from the flagpoles, providing reassurance of a good choice.
When I pulled in I could see one windsurfer out on the water (although I never got to meet them) and there were a bunch of kiters in the parking lot derigging. I asked what size they were riding on (14meter, which is pretty big) so I decide to rig 7.5 as the wind feels like its softening - despite a full set of whitecaps across the lake as far as the eye could see.
The first hour goes by with frustratingly little success at getting back in the straps. I can get in the front straps without a problem, but my 120L board seriously rounds upwind with every attempt at getting my back foot in. Even though I am pretty dejected that what seemed like a well-ingrained skill just days ago, now feels pretty hopeless... Every attempt felt like I was trying to ride a bicycle no-handed, while balancing on the seat on one foot. I had control of neither the steering, the balance, nor the power.
The universe provided a strong gust, that catapulted me into the cool water, and made me stop and re-examine "why isn't this working" and not surprisingly... I was repeating my earlier mistake of not bearing off the wind and letting the board accelerate. With this crucial piece of self-awareness in hand, at the one hour point, I finally make it back to the proficiency level I had gained at the 4 hour point in my last session, and enjoy some nice cruising with both feet in the straps.
The coolest part of the day was serendipitously being locked securely in the straps, weight leaning hard against the 7.5m sail whisking me across the water, at the moment when a big gust hit. I have written many times about the incredible sensation of a board coming onto plane... and to be honest, it was nothing like having the good fortune to be in the straps for this moment. I honestly had the feeling of staring out an airplane window, in that instant the wheels lift off the ground and in the span of a few seconds - the landing gear sucks up into the fuselage, the flaps retract, and those metal wings miraculously pull you skyward at an incredible speed.
Now imagine if you will - having your head hanging out the window when this happens....
In this moment I was going so fast, I settled into my stance to resist the pull of the sail, and I can feel the airfoil of the sail compress and change shape as the center of effort of the big 7.5m sail moves backwards, and I am SCREAMING towards the western shore of the lake. I had heard people talk about how when you start going really fast, you can feel the CE of the sail actually move, but this was the first time I had ever gone fast enough to clearly sense it. With both feet anchored to the board, I felt strangely... in control of the entire affair, it was a great big "hmmm... THAT wasn't so scary" moment.
A subsequent gust caught me in a less prepared stance, and tossed me headfirst into my mast in a mighty catapult, and the howling of the wind made me decide to just float with my gear for a minute until the gust moved by. In that brief moment of waiting, the monofilm of my sail started to vibrate and resonate with the wind gust that was roaring over its surface. It was almost as if there was one of those "massaging chairs" like you sometimes see in airports, poking and prodding the sail from underneath, each poke yielding a hissing buzz in the rush of air over the surface - and when I tapped on the sail, it sounded almost like I was tapping on a Caribbean steel drum. Amazed at my new-found toy, it was the most fun 5 minutes I have ever spent blown over in 3 foot swells out in the middle of Seneca Lake.
Another 1.5 hours of sailing alone brought me back to my launch point (first ever "no walk of shame" on a shortboard!) and I quickly derig and head home. The forecast looks "legendary" for tomorrow on Seneca.... 28 S. I don't know if I have what it takes to play in those winds, but since I have to drive by there on my way to school tomorrow anyways - I should try to get some more work done tonight and at least *see* if I can observe the first rule of programming twice in 24 hrs.
Have a great night everyone,
Shawn