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March 18 |
Tuesday March 18 on my way to check the ice I met Mike with his boat, which he had left on the ice, in back of his truck headed for home. We both skidded to a stop and had a quick yack. Mike said the ice and wind were good but he had more pressing matters to attend to. I continued on to Walker where Keiko and I went for our morning stroll. Mother nature had dealt a fine looking hand this morning. The ice had that surface of the moon look to it. Nice hard ice with rippled up snow and slush on it. Most of the snowmobile tracks had filled in and you would have been hard pressed to make a snowball. As Jory Squibb would say, there were hatfulls of wind. Though the surface looked bad, it was overall smooth and much better looking ice than Walker had been providing for us. As I skuffed the crunchy surface and tried to forcast the outcome of the day I thought to myself, temps in the forties, diminishing wind, I called a sucker day Sunday, I wouldn't sail yesterday in the 40 mph wind when the other guys wanted to and if I call another sucker day today I'll lose my stature in the Cheapskates Clan as the guy that checks the ice and randomly calls at all hours of the day and night to convince other guys to leave work and family events for fun and frolic on the ice. Even though I was looking at a good hand in the game of iceboating , I folded my hand and went to work. I normally work in view of the pond but today forecasted to be sunny and mild, I grabbed a chainsaw and headed into the woods. Once when I stopped to gas up the saw I heard what sounded like the runners of an iceboat howling, as if skidding sideways on the ice in a high powered turn. I just figured it was my mind playing tricks on me like it often does. As I drove back from lunch and saw through the trees a rigged boating setting at the ramp I knew I heard what I thought I heard. I wheeled the truck around like a state trooper after a car load of speeding Hooters girls and set off to meet the owner of this craft, knowing full well by the colors that Mark needing no call from me had sniffed out the good ice and hatfulls of wind. And there he was grinning from ear to ear."Best ride I've had all winter" Mark said," perfect wind, hard ice, and it don't look like its gonna let up either". What iceboater in good health and sound mind wouldn't be falling over his rear beam for conditions like that. Since folding the first hand of cards that mother nature dealt me, I was back in the game with a second even better hand. I made a call to Bonnie to see if he was up for an afternoon sail and got no answer. The wind was supposed to fade and it was quite warm, pushing 40 as a matter of fact. I stood at the ramp and watched Mark make long gracefull carves across Walker Pond in the afternoon sun. Though it is tabboo in the iceboating community to sail alone, those of us that have done it know how special it can be. Kind of like being a low flying Eagle out there in your own space with no one to stop you but the wind. No doubt Mark was enjoying his ride. Once again I folded my hand and went tromping back into the woods to take out my frustrations on the tree population. Lesson to self, never fold a good hand on Walker Pond. The bright sun seemed to be taking its toll on Walker. The east/west pressure ridge that starts at the ledges is open and has split the pond into halfs. The area of open water around the ledges is much larger and chasing the shoreline to the SE. I can only assume that all those breather holes I saw when testing the wing a couple weeks ago are now thin spots just waiting to test the flotation limits of boat and driver. March 17 2007 was our last ride for the 07 season, Mark beat last season by a day. If the ice survives the coming rain we might get another chance on limited and thoroughly checked ice this weekend. Hopefully there is still time for one more hand. |