Long run in Dalian

Dalian is a vibrant city – full of life and people in love. There is no better way to end a great day other than a 2 hour run from the center of the city to the sea and ShingXI Square.

Today Charley and I went to lunch. We ate at an off the beaten track barb b que place. Rick introduced us at Men's Kitchen night at Shangri La on Remin Road.

Eating off the beaten track sounded dicey, but I took a chance.

The squid on a stick looked really gross uncooked, but man that stuff is good with some Cajun like seasoning – like a rub – not a sauce.

Chicken hearts on a wooden spear were, well interesting things to bite down on. I think some of the meat was pork? Or maybe dog? Not really sure.

The veggies were cool, mushroom sprouts grilled to perfection, with a pot of tea.

Cost 49 RMB – (about 7 US$) for both meals.

After lunch it was off to Archee market – a 2 building 5 floor bazaar that is made for bartering. Everything has inflated prices, so you basically figure if you can get them down to half of the list price you are doing pretty well.

Everything is there from curtains to pots to clothes and real tailors in the basement if you want anything, you can basically get it.

I bought a nice polo shirt for 100 RMB or about $14 USD. Walking thru a sea of humanity on a pretty day is just amazing. You can go by cab most anywhere for 8 RMB ( just over a dollar) but why would you?

Walking is way more fun, and bazar.

Crossing the street is like running an obstacle course. Cars have trhe right of way and if they beep to warn you, they are absolved of any wrong doing if they hit you, so like ants lines of people march acorss the busy intersection one lane at a time. For about 3 minutes today we stood in the middle of the street with traffic flowing inches away on either side waiting for a moment to inch a lane further across.

Dangerous perhaps, but quite fun to be part of.

The run to the sea and Shing Xi Square was just fun – Michael Stanley in the Ipod Shufflle knock off eased thru the memories of when they were the in band in Cleveland years ago. The Olympic Soccer stadium has been torn down, the rings are still there as a reminder, and all along the way the new subway terminals are under contruction.

Massive amount of civil building projects in progress.

The square is absolutely beautiful at night. It is probably 1 mile by a ½ mile across lined by 2 story granite sports figurines and landscaping to die for. Just outside the square are hotels, and what appears to be a one upmanship contest to see who can supply a more pretty building lighting. Not over done, just outstanding.

I ran around the figuring statue in the middle of the square. Couples walk hand in hand 0 it is a lovely night.

1 hour and 45 minutes latter I arrive back at my hotel just in time to watch a fireworks display in the park across the street – Boom echos rattle building to building. Amazing stuff.

Now its raining – darn it – I seem to have lost my umbrella. Time to go eat and maybe go catch a band at Shangri La.

Only in Dalian.

7AM

Jennifer is up, and Kevin was starting to make noise. Oh Oh….

Last night was too much fun but not "too much fun" – I feel pretty good, it's a Regatta, and Its still early. Very good!

I looked straight up from the mattress and see a Mistral screamer. I have one of those boards back in the day, they were hot boards, and in fact, they still are.

I don't sail mine much, in fact at all these days. Funny place to put such a cool board.

As my eyes adjust to the morning sun and the calm lake in the background, I recognize the signature on the board. US 9 Nevin Sayre. Kevin is US 8.

Nevin? – As I stare this is not an ordinary board. It is Thee board!

Nevin Sayre was pretty much unstoppable in the mid 1980's and probably still is. We were friends on the regatta circuit, and I often marveled at how he could sail through most anyone.

There is much lore on the ceilings, I think this board is from a world championship. Wow, I slept under the wind surf Gods and dreamed of sailing all night.

How did those two things align? It is going to be a good day J

This is starting to be a really cool weekend. No cell phone, surrounded by wind junkies with some of the worlds best memories right over my head showing visions of past and digging out of vapor some of my most fondest memories. I think some of those memories and dreams last night were not mine, but were shared with me by friends nearby.

As my eyes clear further, I see more and more history unfolding form the days of old, when windsurfing was an unstoppable force. This is a very positive place.

So how it had all disappeared, or so I thought. Mostly there was only a race series in the mid west and in Florida today. In the Midwest, I know about the race series, or at least as the President of the Mid West Organizers of Windsurfing, I had better know about it. Back then there were races everywhere, with folks jetting around the lobe to catch the best wind and waves.

But this place was different. Friends and folks that sailed together 10 and 20 years ago, we still here.

Wow.

Last night Jennifer took a picture of the group while we sat on the rocks as the sun sank into the committee boat. She was up early working on photo shop to clean it up, so she could email it. I hope she does, it was a smaller group at sunset, the fun really began after that, but it represents the fun I once had and I think lost with windsurfing so many years ago.

It was perfect!

After I get moving, Kevin disappears to go get the committee boat fuel, and we focus on the broken step on the front porch. A little wind junkie team work, 5 screws and some scrap wood we dug from Kevins garage and it was like new (almost). Folks are showing up and it is a beautiful morning.

Slowly sailors with every imaginable version of a trailer begin to show up. The only rule for wind surf gear trailers is there is no rule.

Sails begin to sprawl on the grass of the park across the street and folks begin to register. Soon we are 20 sailors and friends strong listening to Arden Anderson explain the course he intends to set, the expected wind and the days activites. Ted and Tara and I stand and watch yet another regatta unfold. This one will be different. I know it, just not why.

Something is different here in this place.

Much like the Tarahumara Indians who run more miles than some consider humanly possible for fun, these folks sail every imaginable contraption year round, just for fun. Maybe it's the people.

 

I head out to dig out my wetsuit and harness. I had almost not come. I am more than happy I did not make that decision.

3AM?

Well just where did that come from?

Magically it appeared in a night full of history, fun, and friendship.

 

As the night had unfolded something magical seemed to happen.

Kevin said "Don't worry – I'll take care of you".

And he did, as did his friends, and fellow wind junkies.

It did not seem to matter than I was from Ohio and had not sailed on Fond Du Lac for 20 some years. By 3AM, a variety of beverage had been consumed including something called a SB – supposedly if you drank one you would take off your clothes, thankfully I declined.

As I walked toward the door, I realized,

I guess I had better ask Kevin what "don't worry, I'll take care of you" meant. I mean, I had no tent, sleeping bag nor hotel room, and even if I did, there was no taxi nor way I was driving anywhere.

Certainly up to this point he had done that famously, but sleeping the car would be a real pain.

Soon we were walking back to Windpower and once inside Kevins Home, a mattress appeared, as did a pillow and a blanket.

This was most Welcome. I smiled, laid down, my head filled with a James Taylor song – His town too…. Always a shade of a doubt.., Who comes to call, maybe a friend of a friend of a friend….

….Sliding into a bottom turn off Buck Island in St. Croix,,,,

Drifting off into deep sleep below what appeared to be windsurf gear hanging from the ceiling was soon easy. Kevin came into say one last thing, "welcome to the Regatta."

I was finally happy. Not sure what it took to make that happen, but it is now cool.

My head was filled with orange bouys of past, surfing and jumping waves, and the start line at the 1984 World Championships – 410 strong.

400 Sails on one start line. I was there, and it was doubly cool.

ZZZzzzz ZZZ zzzz ZZZzzz….

The lost Tribe at Fond Du Lac

Really there probably was. The region was once heavily populated by American Indians and explored heavily by French Explorers. But this tribe is different.

They are wind junkies. I once was. Somehow I got responsibility and that faded and I lost it.

20 years ago there were these tribes on every continent. Windsurfing was the "in" rage, and most everyone had a "Windsurfer" brand one design board and sail that was identical to everyone elses.

We had a great group of families that traveled together, sailed together, and lived life on the weekend together each summer.

The One Design days were cool.

This meant the janitor could compete on the same equipment as the CEO, and it came down to who had the best skills and desire that won at races, but more than that, it meant everyone was equal, and we all learned to windsurf. It was not uncommon to find 60 plus at a local spot on a good day, who just turned out to have fun. The higher the wind, the harder it got, kinda like climbing a step hill on a trail race, there are different gears needed to handle these different challenges.

I have been reading a great book, and tis group syncs up with the spirit of the book. They still get together to sail, often. If they are not sailing they are having fun. Even when they are sailing they are having fun. Born t Run is about running for fun – Great parallels,

Anyway, Friday evening the wind machine of the afternoon shut down, and folks were packing up gear when a few folks arrived and floated in out of now where, or perhaps from the past. It would have been fun to get in some fun on the water.

The History of Windsurfing: A lost pair of old friends are found again.

In the mid 1980's the Schwietzer family was centric to the windsurfer brand. So - when Ted and Tara showed up with an updated version of a windsurfing van, with 2 old school windsurfer boards on top, it took me back to the days when we traveled all points on North America, with barely a dollar to eat with, but somehow managed to pay for gas and entry fee to get into the next regatta.

Going to events back then was just fun, racing was fun, winning occasionally was fun, and being with friends from all over the world was fun.

Here they were again, first time in 20 some years. This event had a feel it was going to be different. As the sunset over the lake in a spectacular display of orange and red, we retired to the sunset supper lounge and restaurant, established in 1838. Old school place. Kinda looked like it could be fun latter.

After the gear was away we headed over under the leadership of the Fond Du Lac tribe (Kevin) to the tribal house.

Tribal drink flowed as did the flow of more members from the local gang. So we were many strong, and the discussion ranged from wind, history, massage techniques, body parts, and then slid into the deep abyss. Somewhere in the enchantment I ate a wonderful piece of Salmon, and laughed. The issues of the day were far behind.

I had found a lost tribe of wind junkies, and their friends of the last 20 plus years were joining them at the tribal lodge.

There used to be a word – I think form the sixties – Karma.

Perhaps way to deep into words for a good time and being with friends.

There is however something going on here.

Perhaps it is Karma. If that is how it is actually spelled. Not a word I normally allow in my vocabulary.

Headed to Chicago towards MOWIND in Fond Du Lac

Yes,

Friday morning, I am at Akron Canton Airport waiting for the United Airlines to find a plane in Chicago and send it to Ohio so we can go to Chicago. Seems the storms last night snarled air travel in the mid west and they are all out of airplanes. Oh well, I headed to the business lounge and logged into work via VPN. No way to call the travel agent to rebook as this is now an unplugged (as possible) month. There are still at work, many items to take care of as I depart for 3 + weeks of International travel, including some PO's, hotel reservations etc.

Got to Chicago 5 hours late due to the lack of airplane, so instead of 10 AM, we arrived 3 PM into the busy time of O'Hare. What a maze O'Hare is, I hate going thru there. Hertz was totally screwed up. They are mid construction in their offices, just off site and have 6 agents for a snaking line some 140 strong. Patience prevails, though most are disturbed at the lack of service. Finally get on the road just in time to hit Milwaukee at rush hour. It just cascades out of control.

Stop and go traffic while I watch a gale wind blow, knowing I should be windsurfing right now is tough to take.

I hope this bad "karma" fades soon, it would stink to deal with this for almost 4 weeks overseas. I don't believe in Karma (yet).

Karma is a word I usually frown at using because it reflects a 60's hippy twist, but there must be some word for when things go wrong in torrid's.

Traffic soon fades into the rolling pastures of rural Wisconsin in full early spring green. The Hertz GPS takes me along, turn by turn with a pleasant voice, and guides me to Fond Du Lac. Fond Du Lac is a shallow lake some 40 miles long that s formed by a ledge of rock that extends to Niagara Falls, and I think may run thru Cleveland. Don't know. Anyway, I arrive in Fond Du Lac and run right into a detour and bridge closure. More bad Karma?

After several improvised turns, I follow a tennis Mom through the High School parking lot because she looks like she knows where she is going.

I finally spot a Mistral flag and some sails, I have found Wind Power and Kevin Grattons place. Kevin and I have exchanged emails, and like Arden and the Magnesons, they said just get here, we'll take care of you. This is a cool tribe of wind junkies to finally visit on their home turf. I have raced against this element for 20+ years, and I know there is a secret to why they are so darn good, I just haven't got a clue what it is. The wind mill farm just outsideo f town might offer a clue. Those things don't get put up where it does not blow.

I find Kevin by the lake, having just finished a session windsurfing, then went out kitting. He is wearing a full dry suit and neoprene head gear. (He told me a short wet suit would be just fine?) Traveling for 3+ weeks forced me to make some tough garment decisions to make room for a windsurf harness and wet suit.

The wind machine has just shut off, There will be no more sailing fun today. Any gear was totally not going to happen, Oh well, I'll hopeful sail something tomorrow.

Unplugging for a month

It makes no sense to take a US cell phone through 9 different Asia countries, and as Jason (Son #2 ) and I share more than a birthday, now that he has his own cell phone, I shall not disappear for 4 weeks with the only charger.

As I had off my cell to my wife, I ponder what 4 weeks sans cell will be like. Will I get stuck somewhere and need it?

Work will not pay for a global cell, and in my job, while this last 3 months, without my personal cell, it is clear to perhaps only me, they would not be in the position they are in, and things would be far more problematic.

So as I head to Asia to hear the fruits of that labor in the form of proposals to implement the asset management for a new plant, using the latest technology available, on one of the most aggressive schedules the world of SAP has ever seen, (Most do not think it can be done), I am going old school and dumping all the tech I can, except the laptop which I need to access travel arrangements and files to prepare training and agenda materials.

Friday morning as Matt (Son #1) drove me to Canton to the airport was different. Something was missing. We had a great conversation. His truck was making an awful noise when he let off the accelerator, something is about to break. He "said" he had told me about it, and I recall it vaguely, but alas, so wound up with work, the simple things are escaping me.

Jason is trying to complete his Eagle Scout project at the south end of town and he has some great help, but without me there, he will now have to succeed as a leader of the project without my prodding. Perhaps that is the way it needs to be to help him grow more than I could have ever imagined he could.

Low tech, PC, one credit card, a file folder and 2 suitcases with work, running, and windsurfing gear. Shoul be fun!

I unplug