Despite marginal readings at the g-ville weather station I packed the iSonic and headed out to celebrate the pioneers. After all, holidays don’t come everyday. On rounding the corner to see the lake (and that’s being generous at this point), Kenny came into view, bobbing and waiting for the puffy puffs of happiness to materialize. A small flotilla of pole boarders sat patiently high and dry, also waiting.
Around 8 it started to pick up and that’s when the fishermen had to hide their women and young ‘uns. Sails ranged from 6.x up. My 9.0 was a bit of a tight fit on a small pond, and managed to toss my bag of bones across the water like a flat rock during one of my less successful explodo-jibes, right smack in front of Grant. Emphasis on smack. It was not the first nor the last time he got to hollerin’ this morning. Hoo-0eee.
All in all a generous helping on an otherwise marginal day. Thanks to the sailors for looking before jibing, steering clear of the kite, and getting plain out of the way when I was heading for the dike, the rocks or just on the verge of disaster. It’s a small pond and sure ain’t getting bigger at this point. We’re all getting better at turning, one way or another. (Sorry Josh, it was turn or eat beach, hope there was plenty of room. You are a gentleman for letting me by.)
Thanks also to the army for the fireworks show southwest of us in the desert following our session. Either that or some delinquent kids were out tossing big bundles of dynamite on innocent bunnies and stuff. Nothing like Utards and their fireworks during independence day and pioneer day fireworks season, which, no lie, runs about June through October or until some puts an eye out, blows their hands off, or launches one into someone else’s bone dry hayfield.
