So we got ourselves out onto the Lake (and that in itself was an adventure), hoisted the main so only about 1/3 of it was used (it's called double-reefing), and commenced upon the most exhilirating roller coaster ride of my life while heeled over about 40 degrees and dressed like the Stay-puft man. Also, the most wet; my (insulated) waterproof gear proved its waterproofness, and I was thankful.

Oh, did I mention I could see my breath all day as well? And one gust registered 39.8 knots? There's a reason I never pack all my ski gear away for the summer. I had more fleece layers than a collegiate backpacker.

Yep, a great day for sailing.

One in which we broke a reefing line (effectively 'breaking' the sail as well) and limping home in hopes we'd actually, y'know, make it there.

By the time I got home-home, I wanted to sleep and eat, in that order.

A good end to a sailing day...falling asleep at the ungodly (and un-Saturday night-worthy) 11p.

I did it again on Sunday, but there was both less wind and more sun. In fact, I got a nice sunburn on top of Saturday's windburn, meaning I have the face of a tomato. I also did more on the boat; since I sat and laughed with glee all Saturday, I paid for it with brute labor, flying the spinnaker with my little hand. My hand which, at this moment, has no fine motor control. It neither opens all the way nor enjoys, well, movement. (Imagine holding a rope that's pulling against you enough that you have to hold on to something else to make sure you're anchored. Now hold it mostly steady/taut for 20 minutes while you crane your neck up and in the opposite direction to watch the edge of the spinnaker. Let go to jibe, and then do it again in about 3 minutes. Lather, rinse, repeat.)

Yes, I love doing this. The fun outweighs all the agonies...but the agonies make for the better stories, so you'll get 'em here.