Received: from hplms26.hpl.hp.com by jr.hpl.hp.com with ESMTP (1.37.109.24/15.5+ECS 3.3+HPL1.1) id AA261480434; Fri, 17 Sep 1999 13:33:54 -0700 Return-Path: <Leo_Bragagnolo@sfport.com-DeleteThis> Received: from golden_gate.sfport.com (sfport-dmz.ci.sf.ca.us [209.77.149.22]) by hplms26.hpl.hp.com (8.9.1a/HPL-PA Relay) with SMTP id NAA24056 for <wind_talk@jr.hpl.hp.com-DeleteThis>; Fri, 17 Sep 1999 13:33:52 -0700 (PDT) From: Leo_Bragagnolo@sfport.com-DeleteThis Received: by golden_gate.sfport.com(Lotus SMTP MTA v4.6.4 (830.2 3-23-1999)) id 882567EF.0070EC45 ; Fri, 17 Sep 1999 13:33:25 -0700 X-Lotus-Fromdomain: SFPORT To: wind_talk@jr.hpl.hp.com-DeleteThis Message-Id: <882567EF.0070EA73.00@golden_gate.sfport.com-DeleteThis> Date: Fri, 17 Sep 1999 13:31:23 -0700 Subject: One good Run True story a buddy sent to me. Leo ----------- ----------- Forwarded by Leo Bragagnolo/SFPORT on 09/17/99 01:27 PM --------------------------- To: Leo Bragagnolo/SFPORT@SFPORT Subject: One good run Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii Content-Disposition: inline
Leo,
I made a major mistake after the CSMIP workshop on Wednesday. The workshop
finished at 3:45 p.m., and so I had at least an hour to go running before
dinne. I pulled on
my running shoes and headed out toward the bay. It was white capping
nicely, and I thought, "Gee, it looks like there should be someone out
there sailing."
I was only out on the path adjacent to the Park Plaza Hotel, Embassy
Suites, etc. for about 5 minutes before I spotted the unmistakable flash of
a sail somewhere in the bay turning downwinde through a jibe. "Wow, that
looks like fun". I continued running and came across a couple of guys
rigging up their sails in a nice grassy patch outside of Embassy Suites.
"What do they call this spot?, " I asked inquisitively.
"Embassy suites," came the friendly reply.
"Oh, I live in New Mexico now, and was just in town for a conference. Do
you have any idea where Coyote Point is from here?", I asked.
"It's just south of here. That is where you will see everyone sailing."
"Thanks," I said.
I continued running to the south along a bike path that just bordered the
south end of the bay. Airplanes were landing in front of me,and the wind
was blowing side on-shore over my left shoulder. The swells were about 3
feet high, and had a 1-3 second period. Up in front of me, off slightly in
the distance I could see about 20 guys on the water, looking like they were
having a good time. "Damn, I miss the ocean," I thought.
After about a 15 minute jog I ended on what must have been Coyote Point.
Just south of an abandoned outdoor movie theater, the park has plenty of
parking, a nice grassy rigging area and a decent launch site. I noticed
one guy sitting on the sand next to a 283 F2 (yellow board with that ugly
snake logo) rigged with a 5.5 North Pyro and a windsurfinig hawaii harness
draped over the boom. I remember those times at the beach, tired and cold
from too much sailing, and just getting hypnotized by all the sailors still
going. I remember all the "tourists" asking about sailing in general, and
then a thought came to me.
"That looks like a lot of fun," I said, looking somewhat curious in my
T-shirt, runnining shorts, Asics trail shoes and Ree bok quarter length socks.
"Yeah," came the answer from the tired sailor.
"Is it hard?," I asked, casting out the bait.
"Oh yeah, it's one of the hardest things I have tried to do," he answered.
Continuing, he said, "I am just working on my waterstarts with this new
board. I was sailing something much more floaty before, and this board is
pretty squirrely. After splashing in the water for the past hour, I
thought I needed a break."
"Really? It doesn't look that difficult." I said, showing my apparent
ignorance.
He laughed and then said challenging, "You're welcome to give it a try if
you'd like."
"I would love to, but I may need a few hints," I said.
He explained a little bit about the wind to me. Showed me how to put on
the harness, and instructed me on the technique of uphauling. I listened
intently with a dumb look on my face. It must have been quite a seen with
me in my running shorts and t-shirt sticking out from a windsurfing hawaii
harness. Cold bay water ripping around, and spray from the swells drifting
onto the beach because pretty soon there were about 8 sailors resting on
the beach behind us. I could see their whispers from tilted heads, and
devilish smiles, "this is gonna be good."
He walked us into about knee deep water and positioned the board on a
port-tack beach starting position and fought with the swells and wind while
instructing me on what to do. "Have fun!!", he exclaimed as he handed over
the boom to me.
I quickly stepped on the board and pumped the sail a couple of times, and
was off on a nice port tack. I hooked into the harness and slipped my bare
feet into the straps. Headed out to the bay I hit a couple of nice jumps
and started screaminng as I exited the slightly sheltered "inside turning
bay." I didn't even bother to look behind at what must have been a comical
audience.
I took one long tack out into the middle of the bay, airplanes rushing
overhead, and was only praying that I hit my jibe. Found a nice swell and
turned smoothly on the top of it. The swell rushing behind kept me on a
nice plane as I quickly flipped the sail and headed back in. My feet were
pretty cold, but this was fun. I came screaming in on my more comfortable
starboard tack and completed another successful jibe about 100 yards off
the beach. I could see his friends laughing as I headed back out. Hit
another couple of jumps, made another jibe and headed back in. I thought
that I had better beach the board before my luck ran out.
I calmly sailed the board to about 5 feet from the water's edge, jumped
off, flipped the sail over my head, grabbed his footstraps and carried his
board onto the sand.
The guy was pretty much speachless as I handed him back his harness and
said, "See, I told you it didn't look that difficult."
Mike
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