Post by 1footwilly on Oct 11, 2012 19:39:58 GMT -5
Arrived today in Hamburg around 1 pm., grey skies, offshore wind,(a breeze really), cold air, cold water. William Meyers was there, JK, AKA the King, Debbie and Joe the eerie two, Peter, Gargil John, Eric, Kristen, etc.
All parking lot castaways for the most part. Invitations were sent but few replied, wisdom perhaps on their part. None the less the skies opened, the sun shined and around 3 the wind clocked ashore and sails were rigged.
3.3 – 6.0. That alone should tell you something. Eerie Joe and Deb were eerily comfortable in the gusts and the messy waves. As for me, I rigged a 5.8, grabbed the 93 and ventured out to the fickle frothy reaches of Lake Erie. How do I describe this? Hmmm imagine if you will trying to dance the Waltz with a giant Woody Woodpecker who is dancing the rumba on speed…..that’s how I connected with the wind and the water today. You know how that works my brethren. Slapped always from everywhere. I discovered among other things that there are 50 ways to f-up a jibe. The 5.8 proved time and time again to be too much just as I was about to toss the boom on a jibe, or maybe it was because I insisted on playing Texas hold em with my boom, I don’t know. What I do know is that I fell backwards, over the nose, sideways up and down wind, re-hooked, never moved my feet, never stepped, ducked or strapped my way into one turn. If I was a golfer I would have said I had a bad case of the shanks. Well no "shank you" says I. Yet the wind did blow, the waves did form white headed and seductive, the wind mills in the distance did shine in the sunlight, and the skyline of Buffalo did etch the eastern horizon like some Maxfield Parrish print and for a moment life was good, so I left thankful and fatigued. In the end what more can you ask for?
All parking lot castaways for the most part. Invitations were sent but few replied, wisdom perhaps on their part. None the less the skies opened, the sun shined and around 3 the wind clocked ashore and sails were rigged.
3.3 – 6.0. That alone should tell you something. Eerie Joe and Deb were eerily comfortable in the gusts and the messy waves. As for me, I rigged a 5.8, grabbed the 93 and ventured out to the fickle frothy reaches of Lake Erie. How do I describe this? Hmmm imagine if you will trying to dance the Waltz with a giant Woody Woodpecker who is dancing the rumba on speed…..that’s how I connected with the wind and the water today. You know how that works my brethren. Slapped always from everywhere. I discovered among other things that there are 50 ways to f-up a jibe. The 5.8 proved time and time again to be too much just as I was about to toss the boom on a jibe, or maybe it was because I insisted on playing Texas hold em with my boom, I don’t know. What I do know is that I fell backwards, over the nose, sideways up and down wind, re-hooked, never moved my feet, never stepped, ducked or strapped my way into one turn. If I was a golfer I would have said I had a bad case of the shanks. Well no "shank you" says I. Yet the wind did blow, the waves did form white headed and seductive, the wind mills in the distance did shine in the sunlight, and the skyline of Buffalo did etch the eastern horizon like some Maxfield Parrish print and for a moment life was good, so I left thankful and fatigued. In the end what more can you ask for?
