Dead Dammy

The lovely breeze howling in the Gulf of Maine never made it to the lake today. But what a bunch of optimists: we all were so sure that it would be there any minute. And when the first guy began to de-rig we thought that would be a suitable sacrifice to Aeolus. But we suffered the same fate as the guys on Champlain at the Doc Fellows last weekend.
In reality, it was great because how often do you actually get to have a long deep conversation with fellow iceboaters? We rush to set up and get sailing, we wave in passing and chat on the ice at line-ups, and then back at the pits we pack up and go. Days like this are needed every now and then to connect deeper with kindred souls willing to stare at a limp thread of yarn for hours on end.

The weekend is shaping up beautifully, though. Stand by for reports.

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