Pickle Race 2007, part 3

The weekend ends on an anticlimax.

Sunday morning, I woke up feeling quite miserable. All those hours on jib trim, especially when the winds got stiff, had really taken their toll on my muscles. The muscles that get strained on jib trim are completely different from the muscles that get strained at the helm – I had aches in the front of my thighs, and in my buttocks, and in the biceps, and in some parts of the back that have never ached before. I had some thoughts of trying to get in touch with Car Guy, since he was interested in getting lessons on sailing, but I didn’t have his cell phone number, and if he’d had a merry might with Madam and Bif, he might not have been in all that great of shape either.

Zorro had told me the night before that he would come back up to the lake to help work on Black Magic if his knee was feeling better, but my guess was that it wouldn’t be feeling better. It was horribly swollen Saturday night.

So Pat and I took it easy for most of the day. Pat had a book or two that he got buried in, and I divided my time among sleep, reading the pile of newspapers that I’m trying to catch up on, and trying to make an Internet connection. The wireless connection that I’ve been piggybacking on at the doublewide has suddenly become much weaker, so I can’t reliably connect to it, and in addition it’s not always connected to the Internet any more – I haven’t been able even to check my email for two days. I suspect the owner of the connection has caught on to something and has taken protective measures.

Zorro called in the early afternoon to say that his knee was no better, and he had called a friend to drive him to a clinic to get it treated. He did say that he planned to get to the lake Wednesday to do the fiberglass work on Black Magic. This could work well – Pat can get to the lake Wednesday evening, help Zorro finish up the fiberglass work, and then go sailing with him. Friday, we can again get to the lake early, finish rebuilding the floor, and go sailing with Zorro.

Meanwhile, Tadpole, Zorro, and I have for months been telling Pat that we all need to have our own cell phones to keep in communication, and I think after this weekend Pat might be beginning to get the picture. If nothing else, good communication might have saved some truly excellent egg-salad sandwiches from unnecessary destruction.