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.