Hi-flying

I returned home early Thursday morning to sort out the days ahead. There's just a mess of papers and obligations sitting on my desk in chaos. The first errand was to run out with the family and make a visit to Diana's senior photo session. The family took me out to the Olive Garden for a light lunch. On the drive home, I could feel a bustling wind pick up in the area. The weather was just gorgeous--sunny, mostly clear skies, and warm with a strong wind out of the West. I decided to postpone things further and rush out to the lake.

On arrival, I noticed they had put up the mystical blue/red flag, indicating that winds were near dangerous. Techs were capsizing anywhere an inexperience sailor had lost control. 420's had turtled here and there. From the deck, I saw Harvey (the Rescue Boat) dragging in two windsurfers, Brock and Michelle. Brock had literally torn up the sail and had what looked like a hand sprain. As Harvey was leaving, the rescue crew warned of 35-40 mph winds out in the middle of the lake and to use absolute caution. With those words, I simply smiled and grew excited at the thought of flying out there. The problem at hand was that I don't have my board heavy rating--especially the extra high winds of today. In the tunnel, the instructors had cancelled all classes and went as far as not allowing any heavy testouts because of the dangerous conditions.

As I walked back toward the rigging deck, Juan and Andy, the club's best windsurfers, were just getting ready to go out in the rough. I asked them about letting me testout in these conditions because if I could handle this then anything lower would be cake. Juan explained that testouts were hard to do on a day like this because Harvey was already overloaded as it is with rescuing people already out on the lake. I promised that I would not need assistence and swore to make it back. Against his better judgement, he gave the okay and I rigged up. Brock joined me going out with a sprained hand. This is what they mean when guys talk about living and dying for the plane.

I had gone out in light heavy winds before but this was just insane. White caps swelled up all over as I flew off them. Keeping the sail steady was key and its extreme power had no problems tossing my weight around. I was thrown off several times but it deterred me little. If anything is to be said, the falling had made me more determined to catch the good ride. I tacked back and forth past the mooring field several times before returning back to pier. I asked Juan what it would take to get my heavy rating. He smirked and gaily said "You got it!"

Of course I would go back out for more of nature's powerful pounding. I took a beating on several tumbles and had some struggle when I almost got blown into a big J-boat. Out past the mooring field was the wind line and that my friend is where the ass-kicking begins.

With the sun setting in the West, I returned. Brock and I got a pitcher of beer and chilled out on the lake front. Hungary after a rockin' day of hi-flying, we headed to Takara for some sushi and hibachi. I am glad to spend this little time with a friend before I go out to Ann Arbor for the All US Kendo Championships. This year, the nationals are held in the midwest, a homecourt of sorts. Sadly, the first day of competition is on my birthday so I'll be spending it not in the company of fond friends.

Fei-O-Meter
Activity: 3 | Energy: 3 | Friends: 3