The Gorge adventures of Dr Jim Southwick, Dave O and John D

[John Dubock]

Jim Southwick, Dave O and I drove all night to the Gorge Tuesday. Found ourselves asleep at dawn at The Dalles. Stumbled into wind, real wind, hot wind. Kissed the ground, welcome to Mecca Baby! First to the Event Center, rigged 6.0’s and watched 150 of our closest sailing friends arrive to 16-38k gusts.

Jim’s infamous parachute backpack met its match, he ragdolled more than once, “unvoluntary airs” I think he called it. I thought it violated his life insurance policy. Energizer Bunny meets wicked chop, 3.2 sail ripped out his hands, more than once. He almost whipped out the 2.6, but by then there was blood on the water, make way for Hucker local time.

Jim conducted endless experiments, concluded he’s more in tune with his HS 105 than his skinny relic boards. Jim is his own Personal Test Center of Windsurfing.

We retreated all week to Bob’s Beach, Stevenson, WA where the majority of sailors are older than us. 10 local Geezers watched as Jim went out in East or West winds, running on the beach taking readings, amped at 9am. Said Geezers spent the first day just watching Jim, it was a trashy 6.6 wind day, so Jim kept it to about 7 hours on the water. Just when they thought he might come in for a break, he would bolt out again, and the Geezers would never get out their lawn chairs, safe in the shade.

By Day 4 Jim had so much water time he insisted on walking two blocks into Stevenson, to a hippie lunch spot where unlike Utah they insist on a fine beer before noon. We became one with the locals, clapping to the annual Stevenson Day parade inches from our seats, and almost joined the conga line with the crowd to the Skamania Town Carnival till we remembered we had rigs waiting in the soft lawn at Bobs Beach. Just another trashy 6.6 wind day, no rush, it will go till near dark.

Bob shows up at least 4x a day, at least to see if his beach is still there, to turn off the private sprinklers, paddle a surfboard, set up the wheelchairs for ultimate viewing, test the Wi Fi connection on the beach.

Sunday was a classic no wind Gorge day, 92 degrees, water 72. Our fine host, Jay Salzman, Sailworks racer jacked a 10.8 to prove not just Utah flies mega sails. Only in the Gorge can you see 4 sleek, carbon Xterra racing team single man outrigger canoes slide out, then suddenly see them RIDING THE WAKE OF THE STERNWHEELER, mid stream. The noise of those canoes nearly kept us awake all day. The guy who sailed with us on Sat rolls up on his racing bicycle, having pedaled 50 miles from Portland to Bob’s. I just don’t see myself pedaling from SLC to Deer Creek.

By Monday the routine was well, routine. Up at 7am, Jim of course foraging around our rented house in the blackberry patches, eating organic Oregonian food, countered with liberal amounts of Mike Ice Cream. We don’t bat an eye when a $3,000 custom Roberts gets thrown on the lawn. We exchanged boards and customs with locals, with the Traveling Interactive Hypersonic Petting Zoo, and sold one HS 105 in less than 4 jibes. We had to break some bad habits, finally learned to not rig every single sail, just dial in the 5.7, and be DONE.

If you thought the good Dr. Jim was fast on the water before, be forewarned, he got a years worth of Utah sailing in 9 days, all of it macked out like it was either his first day in the straps or his last on Earth.

[Patrick McEwen]

Ya scoop it, flip it, and then ya grit yer teeth and point yer toes. Sometimes ya curse the sickening gusts.....to much of the thing ya love.....other times ya pray fer the things ya jest cursed. Man will ya please make up yer mind......or maybe you all are just all out of yer mind.

Boyz, I'm real glad to hear that ya got your arms jerked out a bit.

Pat