Another fine sailing season, not done yet

[John Dubock]

JIm Southwick still has the stoke after 31 years, he's the Mayor of Chucktown, The Baron of Island Beach, and we should all learn from his endless energy...which reminds me of a little story...

Father's Day story/Buffalo Beach, Sulphur Creek, WY 2005

It’s Friday, 6am, the forecast is a hot July day in the Utah desert, filled with the promise of wind. Too bad that wind is 84 miles away, cross border in Wyoming, home of real beer, real fireworks, real cowboys but that’s our summer wind at 7,200 feet. 6am is the quiet time devoted to organizing the mountain of gear for the sailing armada of 16 yr old sons, The Double Trouble Identical Twins, Troy and Trevor. All the off-season purchases look great now, the mini trailer groans under the weight of 3 boards, 15 sails, 9 masts, 3 booms, two buckets of wetsuits, rigging gear, tools, spares of spares. Check. Station wagon looks ready; although for the last 40,000 miles of wind adventures of The Taurasaurus (America’s least stolen car) has had to endure the fine wrath of same sons commenting upon ignition “is it going to MAKE IT?"

Plan A is to go to work till noon; take a call at 11am that the wind is blowing on the beach in WY, prognosis excellent. Call Troy, make sure he’s awake, alert, and remembers my name. One son primed to go; he’s not working, hey with twins 50% isn’t a bad ratio. A timed swing by after a lightning stop for road rations at the market is confirmed. Check

59 minutes later, Le Wagon is racing to the supermarket at appointed noon hour, 88 degrees, not a second to waste, route planned around rogue road closures, the Space Shuttle launch has less tension than our Friday blastoffs. To ensure the adventure has a continuous high blood sugar flow one must plan to have the cold root beers, the exact same roast beef deli sandwich (not ham dude!) and ice, since Buffalo Beach has bison, cow pies, endless pasture land, flat water and not much else except for that steady, hot summer wind.

Note in rear view mirror that one trailer tire is wobbling! Forget market, race a block away to mechanic, and determine that either the bearings or an axle is toast, prognosis grim. I visit this mechanic so often he keeps a spare set of my keys on the wall; he’s on my speed dial. Wind trips tilt on hair trigger decisions, what gut reaction is going to take over? 24 years of sailing should mean auto response, I’m the adult here, and your kids expect action, not excuses.

Start ripping at the trailer to load tons of gear into Taurus wagon, losing minutes now…getting frustrated, I’m hyperventilating, not hypersailing, its 91 degrees, jeeze how much gear do we need and who bought all this stuff! Trevor always says “Bring it ALL Dad, we might need it”. Take a breath here, hey it’s only a half day adventure, 84 long miles away, why not just give up and relax! Let’s go for a hike, just takes shoes, one foot in front of another.

Call Troy, his immediate, emphatic reaction? “Dad, get the car loaded, NO WAY ARE YOU GETTING OUT OF WINDSURFING, I’M WAITING! Guess I raised this boy right, minutes later he’s sitting shotgun, happy he doesn’t have to fight his twin for the front seat. We faked the normal diet, it was replaced with warm water, Clif bars and chewing gum pointed for Wyoming. This flight will be non stop, a blessed tailwind, we have a reputation for showing up first, not last!

Big anticipation in those 84 miles, the city gives way fast to cowboy country, mixed with red rocks. Blue skies like on the Simpsons TV show that go forever, no cell coverage, just scratchy cowboy radio, racing the railroad tracks, damn I hope it’s good; this kid has trained all week for a session. We cross into Wyoming proper, make the final turn to the Mirror Lake highway, 9 miles and 9 minutes to go, the homestretch, we can shut down the turbo power now, the 12,000 foot snow capped peaks of the High Uintas fill the windshield and that tailwind is now a beautiful sidewind flowing into key indicators like selected trees, flags and bushes that show bona fide wind.

A high-speed arrival at The Beach of Buffalo's, those loyal friendly faces greet us with, “hey whats the big deal, so you’re only an hour late”, man if they only knew. Wind kicks in big time, we’re nearly blown off the water but Troy is ripping, rigging down from a 6.2, Carve 131 to a 5.3 and Hypersonic 125. From the water you can see hard working landowners cutting hay, herding cows, diverting water, loading dirt for cement trucks; they never take a day off. A couple magical hours later, a few NASCAR like water pit stops for wing adjustments, clarification of water to land hand signals, choice comments noted and words of encouragement I send Troy out alone to complete the day, everyone else is cooked.

Kids worldwide live for this moment, alone on the track with everyone watching and cheering, showing off to an adoring crowd, the full pedal to the metal, priceless character and confidence builders. Filling the memory bank, that make the days sitting in English class with flags blowing a little easier to survive. As a parent you simply admire the moment, here’s a kid who can’t even drive yet he knows the feel of his own sonic boom, the raw power of his boom/sail/mast and board. The real deal, and his mental hard drive is testing his limits for future adventures. Troy’s dedication to fitness is endless, he's not afraid of hard work like 33 mile solo mountain bike rides, 4 years of brown belt karate, 131 ski days in 2007 at Snowbird with his brother, a few hospital visits, a few close calls with avalanches, no excuses. Troy’s twin has done as many as 5 marathons in one summer and both understand the tradition of sailing one more reach for those who can’t make it today. If he had a tattoo it would proudly state "first on the beach and last to leave"

Thunderstorms are coming off the Uinta Mountains 20 miles in the distance, the sky is turning black fast, wind isn’t backing down. Troy sees a lightning flash and knows you can get hit from 50 miles away…we can’t believe we’re leaving wind; it’s a Federal Crime in Utah punishable by doing chores for long winter months.

We slowly derig, its now 6:30pm, funny how all the gear fits perfectly this time, make the easy drive home….just another 175 mile day in the chase for memorable wind….tomorrow Troy will be of course be first on the beach, the whole time telling his brother, “man you should have seen yesterday, hey pass me another ice cold root beer”….

Same son that when born with muscles at 8lbs, probably so happy he didn’t have to share a womb with his twin anymore, doctor said he had a “thing on his lung”. I remember holding his fat toes in the post delivery room, just me and Troy, 3am, telling him, hey forget this lung thing, you’ll be fine, you’re brother is plotting excellent adventures already….

[duanekarren]

Great story.