I may have GDD*

Can there be too much of a good thing?

This weekend we anchored in Port Madison, off the dock for the first time in weeks.  And I relaxed.  I mean I completely RELAXED.   I was so relaxed that I may actually have left the animal kingdom and become some kind of plant. 

Is this good?  

Once in a while I think it is. But I was so far gone that it was quite difficult for me to gather together enough energy (gumption?) even for the ten-minute job of greasing the heads.  I spent uncounted hours lazing in the cockpit, feeling the boat gliding slowly around the anchor and gazing at the water, the shoreline, the birds, the seals.  The insides of my eyelids. 

So what is this "energy", this "gumption"?  Is another word for this curiously slippery substance "ambition"?  Where does it one from?  How is it destroyed by the heat of a summer afternoon?  Can you get more of it with a proper diet?  Do certain strangely named supplements help your body to manufacture it? 

Investigators have found ^{[citation needed]} that subjects with low levels of gumption seem to have correspondingly elevated levels of a substance identified as β-lethargen. Is β-lethargen a gumption antagonist?  Or does it act independently to reduce the will to act? Is there a deeper homeostatic mechanism that is regulating both of these?  More research is needed. 

Next weekend.

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*GDD: Gumption Deficit Disorder

I may have GDD*

More than a month without a saltwater fix

June 28.

That was the date we returned to the dock from our previous little cruise.  And now it is August 16^th.

Those intervening weeks were filled with travel, a family reunion, a wedding, and the Dude Drive - all wonderful fun and very fulfilling.  But no saltwater.

Ah, but this morning we woke up at anchor in Port Madison - woke up to the smell of the sea, absolute calm, and a fuzzy layer of fog that filtered in and out as I sat in the cockpit, drinking my Coast Guard-required latte.

It is so good to be home.

More than a month without a saltwater fix

Searching for love, on twisty mountain roads

Not everything is about sailing; there are other things.

This weekend was the 2013 Dude Tour - where men of indeterminate age (I think I get the award for the oldest) take their (mostly) classic cars out and actually drive them (oh, the horror!).  And this is not just driving, but driving at (some would say ridiculous) speed thru twisty back mountain roads.  But we're not crazy - these must all be paved roads.  Nobody wants gravel rash on their baby.

And there is camping.  And adult beverages, of course (by now you must know me well enough to believe that I would give the event a pass if this were not true), campfires, and daily turn-by-turn recounts of the driving.

Here are this year's participants (from left to right):

• VW Golf R32 (Phil)
• 1966 Karman Ghia (Ken - my son-in-law)
• 1969 TR6 (Adam - my son)
• 1973 Riviera (50,000 original miles - Jeff)
• 1968 GTO (me!)
• Porsche Boxer (Kerry)
• 1959 Austen Healy Sprite (with monster rotary engine, and a tiny 9 gallon gas tank - Brian)
• 1969 Fiat 850 (Piotr)
• Porsche Boxer (Kirk)
• (Not shown:  late model Corvette - Brian's dad)

If you are noticing something strange about the Riviera - yes it is photoshopped in - it died along the road with a failed water pump.  We made a valiant effort to effect a roadside repair (yes, we all travel with tools...  of course), but when three of the bolts snapped off in the disassembly attempt, it became clear that this was the end of the line for the Riviera - it was going to have to go home on a trailer.   We split Jeff's stuff up amongst us (to be fair, I had the biggest remaining trunk in the GTO...) and Jeff finished the tour along with the rest of us.  As he should have.  But I lost my pace car - I have always relied on the fact that if Jeff can make it thru a corner, then I can too.  Now I was on my own.

The route - 514 miles, by Piotr's odometer

After leaving the Seattle/Tacoma metro area the route was the twistyest (sp?) road you could imagine, with lots of big suspension bottoming bumps hiding along the way.  Perhaps the most spectacular turn was the one where, with the sun in your eyes, the road made a sharp 15 MPH turn to the right (trust me, no one was going anywhere near that slow).  No guardrail (actually, no guardrails anywhere).  And straight ahead?  Empty space.  I have no idea how long the drop was I didn't have time to look), but the opposite side of the canyon had to be a couple of miles away. 

The route took us over Old Man Pass, where Adam made your correspondent pose under the sign.   Thankfully, I am assured that all copies of this photo have been destroyed.

It was a wonderful time.  All the cars except the Riviera completed the trip on their own wheels, and the GTO is parked comfortably in the garage once again. 

 We now return you to your regularly scheduled sailing blog.

Searching for love, on twisty mountain roads

Homecoming

When you have been away from home for a while, returning to home releases such wonderful feelings.  It's like they were trapped in there somewhere under pressure, and then the pressure is gone.

It is a release, a relief of kinds - the return of the familiar.  Familiar smells.  Familiar sights.  Familiar friends.  A nite in your own bed.

Ahhh.

When we got out into the open air last nite after returning from a Cheyenne Wyoming wedding, Kaci expressed it like this: "My skin loves the air here!"  Now certainly a part of this was the wonderfully perfect humidity and temperature of a Seattle mid-summer evening.  But a part of it was surely the homecoming release as well, brought on by that perfect air.





And as for me?  Well, sitting in the cockpit at sunset with a long anticipated IPA pretty much says it all I think.

Homecoming