The thing about vacations is that most of the benefit of taking them is in the weeks beforehand that you spend looking forward to vacation. Not to say that actually being on vacation isn't the cat's pajamas, because it is, but as soon as it starts it's ending. We've also found out that I am a two week vacation person, as impractical as that is. I'm too wrapped up in stuff and only really get fully loose by about Thursday. Again, not to say that I don't enjoy myself like a bastard before Thursday, it's just that there's a very noticeable mental-physiological thing that happens (I think it's commonly referred to as relaxation) that happens only after several days away from the real world.
The week was awesome. The house we rented was sort of odd in that it was next to a Dairy Queen, which would have been much more valuable had it been open. As it was, the only value provided by the DQ was the parking lot, where we were able to windskate (think windsurf sail attached to skateboard), and the navigational landmark. We were also next door to a windsurf shop, which was quite convenient. David Crosby's twin brother runs the shop - a freaky resemblance.
The days that really count are the windy ones - Monday through Thursday. Saturday was a good one for warming up the blender skills (never really in anything less than sharp focus anyhow) and getting the rank beginner among us out on the water. Sunday saw some more people on the water, but not yet the die-hards. Monday was ideal, with enough breeze for great action but not too much that the more novice people couldn't enjoy it. Tuesday and Wednesday were sick. I was out in 46 mph winds on Tuesday and pretty much got my ass handed to me. Wednesday was a little less epic, but still nuts. A friend and I were taking turns on my 3.2 meter sail (approximately the size of a youth medium t-shirt) and tiny board and had all we could handle.
It's a darn shame that a bunch of people had to leave on Wednesday because Thursday was perfect. There was breeze when we woke up and breeze when we went to sleep. The missus officially caught the windsurfing bug on Thursday. She was out for going on about 5 hours, whooping it up the entire time. By the time it became apparent that we weren't going to get any breeze on Friday she was standing around, scratching her forearm like a junkie in the parking lot at a Dead show. Totally. Hooked.
The final kick in the balls was when we had to pack up and leave in perfect conditions on Saturday. Such is life, and the lot of people who choose to become hopeless slaves to such weather dependent activities.
We didn't even get off of the island before the missus started in with the "so how do we manage to get down here more often" shtick. Bon pour moi. A question I myself have asked many times, previously with the caveat of needing to convince the wife. No more, my friends, no more.
Saturday night we met my brother's family for dinner at 2 Amy's, always a hit with the crowd. It having recently been our nephew's birthday, we got him a small trainer kite. It's never too early.
Amazingly, after slurping down blender drinks and fine ales all week, while dining on the healthiest of charred meats, chocolates and ice creams, I felt passable on the Sunday morning team ride. The bit going up Great Falls kind of sucked, and I had to close a gap before the last sprint that I'd somehow let open so felt obligated to close. You try catching Nessie when he's in full trot. Having done my duty and regained my honor, I promptly mailed in the final few hundred meters and rolled home.