I'm beginning to think I may never windsurf again. At least not this summer. It would seem that Chuck is against me in this. I have not gotten my equipment wet (that's not a euphemism for anything. Shut it. It's not.) since June. Every weekend I've had something going on.
Okay that last part is a lie. I haven't had something going on *every* weekend. But the times I haven't, it's been so incredibly hot and the lake I prefer to go to has no shade. Zero. And I feel bad for DBF leaving him on the shore with no shade to protect his delicate, pale skin. (He might kill me for describing him as delicate. If I disappear, someone may want to call the authorities.)
So I've been putting it off. Well, my dad gave me a "tent". It's a "tent" because there are no walls, just basically a tarp you string up between trees. Of course the problem with that is there are no convenient trees to use for hanging up the "tent". Remember? No shade.
This past weekend, I finally got some poles to hold it up. So for Labor Day, DBF and I decided to go out to the lake for an afternoon of some windsurfing. Only to be thwarted. Again. When we got there, there were no other windsurfers there. None. Zero. And if I learned only one thing (actually I hope I learned more than one thing) in the learn-to-windsurf clinics I've attended, if there are no other windsurfers around, DON'T SAIL! So I didn't. Even though it made zero sense to me because there was actually some wind out on the lake.
Instead, DBF and I decided to try setting up the "tent" with the new poles. Only the poles are so freaking tall that the rope that comes with the "tent" is not long enough to tie it down to the stakes. Fuck. By this time, I'm hot and sweaty and cranky. So we threw the "tent" back in the car, jumped into the lake to cool off (which the water was not at all cool btw, ew!) and went back home after spending all of an hour at the lake. Awesome.
At this rate, I'm going to be a phenomenal windsurfer in about 50 years.