|
We're Not In Kansas Anymore...
Photo and Article by Martin D. Trees
He must have been 200 pounds. I swear he was bigger than his sail, which was a 2.8, so I knew I wasn’t in Kansas anymore. Kristen and I sat on the rocks at the Spring Creek National Fish Hatchery, by the Columbia River, to watch the smoking water. Kristen recalls a day when Wilson Lake in Kansas was smoking too. I couldn’t waterstart then and the thought of heading out in the big stuff scared the Ding-Stick out of me. I must have blocked that day from my memory as parents block all those horrible things you did as a kid and just remember you as being so sweet.
What we were now looking at was anything but sweet. We’ve sailed the gorge long enough now to recognize familiar faces and to know their abilities. The guy who loops on almost every reach and the person who can ride a single piece of swell smooth as an eagle on an updraft. These same people were just being pummeled. Basic jibes become challenging in those conditions.
Duck jibing was pure madness. And loops unimaginable.
Kristen and I sail a variety of conditions from the Gorge to Mexico. So, we decided to go to the car, pick up our sails and grab the… beach chairs we keep there for just such an occasion. This action we undertook being of sound mind and wanting to remain of sound body. We sat on the river bank and watched the day unfold.
The 200 pound guy was out there now. Somewhere behind that swell hidden by the white water. It’s like reading The Perfect Storm all over again. Sailors seemed to come too close, too fast, to the rocks in their effort to slow down for that jibe attempt. I think that was Dr. Fun getting eaten by a rogue wave. Our chairs were rocked gently by the breezes filtering through the trees we’d hidden behind.
I must have drifted to sleep because I swear I was back in Kansas. Being unable to waterstart wasn’t much of a problem for most of the lake sailing conditions we encountered there. But when a storm front or squall came through the thought of trying to up-haul in the white water had little appeal. We were beginners, and weekend warriors too. So, our chances of progressing fast as windsurfers was low. In an effort to speed up the process we drove the 4X4 and our trusty gear trailer to the Gorge one summer. We were to learn to water start.
"...blowing his jibes and smiling like Jack Nicholson in The Shining"
We soon learned that we had to rent the right gear. A small board, small sails, and big wetsuit. Turns out all the gear we’d hauled 1,500 miles was not going to cut it in Gorge-land. It took just two lessons at the Marina Park, and we were waterstarting. From there we progressed to Rowena, OR, where we planned to perfect our new found skill. The large beach at Rowena appealed to us. It gave us lots of options for getting back to shore in the event that our new skill suddenly vanished. We got seven days of 3.5 to 4.5 sailing before we had to head back to Kansas. By journey’s end we’d hauled the gear trailer 4000 miles and didn’t use a windsurfing item in it. And the trailer’s tiny 8" rims didn’t even get warm…
"I think that was Jim throwing a forward loop," said Kristen squinting to see through the smoke on the water. I awoke to the Hatchery still going off. I stared at the 200-pound guy who was still out there—blowing his jibes and smiling like Jack Nicholson in The Shining. Kristen was starting at me questioningly. "??," her eyes seemed to say. "I was in Kansas," I said weakly. She looked at the river and said, "We’re not in Kansas anymore…"
This is a series of travel muses by Martin and Kristen Trees who sail on Chinook, DaKine and NoLimitz products
Click here for a FREE VIDEO with your subscription to AW!
Six reasons to Subscribe to American Windsurfer
I want to SUBSCRIBE now!
Return to Content
|
