E-Scow Nationals

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The LOVE TOUR Fall 2006 begins!

on Lake Minnetonka, Deep Haven, Minnesota, USA.

Flying in to Minneapolis, my dad and 2-man, Mary Beth land and rent a car to drive the 30 minutes to Lake Minnetonka, one of Minnesota's 10,000 lakes, as we sooned spotted on everyone's lisence plates when getting on the highway. We meet Patrick, our jib man at the yacht club and find a moring for our boat becuase the yacht club is on an island! We then met our WONDERFUL hosts putting us up in their grand house (on Northome by the Stone Arch ;-). We soon discover they have a hot tub AND a sauna AND a huge dog that goes nuts when someone says "dog on TV!"

Needless to say, instead of a Notice of Race, there was a Notice of PARTY. There was a party every night which began with no less than a wooden E-Scow for a bar, a huge house and a huge tent that housed the tables for eating and special-ordered flamenco guitarists and dancers! Later in the evening, the East Coasters (signal being the three middle fingers extended and turned sideways) conjoined a few tables and began playing a most enjoyable game, known to most as

Flip Cup

. When the beer ran out, we moved the party to Meynard's, the local bar. Mary Beth, Pat and I jumped into cars leaving for the bar, of course the gentlemanly 6 foot 7 inch T.G. (Tall Guy) jumped into the back of his car that his

butler

dad was driving to make room for Mary Beth and I to sit on the back seats. Pat went in some other car, wearing his sweater over his shoulders.

Arriving at the bar, I found myself ill-prepared, having no I.D. and no money. Well, in Minnesota with 10 other girls and 10 other guys, is no problem. Everyone knew everyone in this bar and I wasn't about to be left out. I didn't have to buy a drink for myself the whole night. One of those drinks was bought by a very handsom gent who said he was a police officer. The truth may be never known.

About half way through the night I notice that Mary Beth, just starting her break up with Patrick, is being consoled by an gent age guestimated between 35 and 40 who, for our purposes, we shall call

the Rock

. Sliding into the bar seat next to them, I assumed the role of wingman until the bar closed at 1 am. Having no ride and no idea where we were, Pat finds some Yellow Pages in a phone booth and, stumbling, tries to carry them out the door with us. Knowing he was just awoken from the fetal position on the nearby docks, the phone books are commandeered and replaced, sending Pat, angrily into the dumpsters behind the bar. Me, trying to get jealous-inspiring Rock away from Mary Beth and Mary Beth away from Pat and trying to find out where we are, where we're going and how we're getting there, find Pat and drag him out of the back alley before he found a nice plastic bag to curl up with.

It being Minnesota, the multitudes of other people leaving the bar offer to take us to Amanda's house, whoever that was, for the night. That being a way better offer than trusting a man who barely spoke English to taxi us home, I try to get Pat into a car. Him being a strapping young lad, however stumbling he was, was much stronger than I and broke away from my grip sending him, sprinting, into the nearby neighborhood. I tried to chase him, but, thanks to some wide houses and some fences, our friend Pat managed to excape me, leaving behind his seater like Cinderella's glass slipper. It was the only thing we had to remember him by. We had no idea when the next time we would see him would be because we were 10 miles away from home and 7 away from where our boat was being kept over night. At this point, Mary Beth and I knew we were sailing 3 man in the morning and corrected our behavior from then on in preparation for said plan. Now that our money was now travelling 5 m.p.h. through unknown suburbia, Mary Beth and I crawled into a car going to Amanda's house in hopes that we could find someone who knew where the Stone Arch was in the next town. After a few games of air hockey and a few glasses of water, we found Jordan, the 3 man of V49, whose parents lived on the road with the Stone Arch. With much thanks, we were driven home, got inside and changed for bed at 2am, but not before realizing Mary Beth had lef her wallet in Jordan's car. No worries though, he drove to our house in the morning and returned it before we had even left the driveway for the boat.

What ever happened to Pat, you ask. Ask and you shall receive. At 6 in the morning, the entire house is arosed by the ring of the doorbell. All we can hear from our warm beds on the second floor is our host saying

Who is that? Yes... Hello... Yes, he's ours... Thank you very much.... goodbye.

Assuming it is Pat, Mary Beth and I turn over and get another hour of sleep, knowing this might be the only hour of sleep that Pat might be getting after a looooong night.

7 am rolls around and Mary Beth and I wake up to gear up for 55 degree weather with 10 to 15 knots of wind. Pat rolls out of bed in his bathing suit and tall black socks at about 8, minutes before we had to be out the door. He leaves the house wearing only a T-Shirt and bathing suit. Quite illy prepared for 55 degree air, high seas and a boat with lots of sharp things and fast flying ropes and lines. After finding some gear of his in one of the many vans and cars that came on the convoy from Jersey, we find out that Pat didn't chew his food very well the night before, over and over and over again. Once not over, but in. In the boat. My dad, Mary Beth and I sailed 3 man with 4 people. We convinced Pat to hold on to his water bottle and switch sides of the boat when we told him to.

We did great, considering, and managed to put about 10 boats between us and the end of the pack. Out of 92 boats, placing us in about 83rd. We saw all of our cronies from the night before on V37, V49, HO51, CH1, BH22, MA4 and MA10. Waves and smiles beat out awkard stereotypical day-after greetings like

sorry about last night

or

I don't remember you

. I love Minnesota.

That night, there wasn't too much partying for any of the boats. Our boat was in bed promptly by 10:30pm to prepare for the next day of 3 races, which weren't any warmer. Instead of wearing everything I owned, I wore every thing I owned AND borrowed something from everyone on my boat.


*one-piece bathing suit
*thick socks
*fleece spandex
*wet suit shorts
*rubber boots
*Lotus waterproof pants
*rash guard
*black hot chili hoody
*fleece vest
*spray top
*life jaket
*sunglasses
*Richmond baseball hat
*fleece ear warmer
*watch
*full-fingered gloves

All of that has a very specific order it has to go in as well and that right there is the order. If you mess up the order, it costs you about 2 minutes of working backwards to get everything straight.

The second day we did better. We had our job and fore-deck man back. The third race we finished 34th, which was intense because we beat a lot of the people from the East Coast, not to mention every boat we were around at the finish line and 58 boats. That right there made the whole trip worth it, sailingwise. Mary Beth kept me calm the entire way around and kept a very straight attitude until we crossed the finish line in 34th and we all lost it. We dropped everything and threw up our arms in the air. We pushed and pushed a pushed to keep boats, not to mention having a great firstt leg. That's the whole race right there. The first leg determines which group of 10 you finish in. It is very hard to work 20 boats in one race, so that first leg is crutial.

That night's party was pretty spectacular. It was a dinner dance with salmon and lasagna and a much disputed band. Steve Milar, not Steve Miller. He was great though. A wedding-singer type. Flip Cup once again broke out and spread like wild-fire. This time we had three picnic tables and a rectangular fold up table lined up in a row. East Coast on one side. Mid-West on the other. East Coast would have won every time if it weren't for LBI. Sheesh. Where did they learn how to play? Ape school? When the supplies for the game ran dry, we moved to the dance floor and danced the rest of the night away, some with their boyfriends, some with their friends, parents, strangers, me with Brian Halloway. An Irish-Catholic 22 year old that could dance the irish jig, the swing and wasn't afraid to sing out loud to the great ole' tunes of Steve Milar, covering Shout!, Michael Jackson, Brown Eyed Girl, you catch the drift. When the music died, it was off to Meynard's again. Pat, with the keys and a Ginger Ale took of on the boat shuttle to the parking lot while Mary Beth and I pontooned over to the party house from two nights before to hop in a bunch of cars. Brian made it a point to be in the same boat and car as me to direct me where we were driving, as I offered to drive someone's car.

To Meynard's we went where many more friends were met, many gooses were received and many tabs made known. As always though, 1am rolls around all too soon and Pat, with Ginger Ale in hand, drove me, Mary Beth and Brian back to Amanda's house. Mary Beth and I were fully utilizing this opportunity to get back at Pat for all he put us through on Thursday night. Pizza was eaten, giant domesticated bunny rabbits were toyed with and the night was ended with joining Brian for a stroll outside and good conversations about college and siblings. On the way home, Mary Beth and I found the girliest stations and belted out the words to the songs whether we knew the correct words or not. In bed by 3, we slept a good sleep for the last race on Sunday.

There were a few ligistical errors made that could have been avoided with a bit more communication, but we learned a whole lot about each other as crewmates, partymates and housemates.

Everyone who was flying out that day drove their rental cars away after the awards ceremony, while I stayed behind with the boats which were being stored up for the 28 hour drive back to Jersey. One giant, white pick up truck with the 3 boat trailer behind it, one giant, red Expedition with the 4 boat trailer and one grey van with Hurricane, the orange motorboat. Carl Horracks, Pat, Henry Colie and myself returned to our home away from home, the Brackit's house, and the four of use utilized their hot tub before going on an adventure search in the van for Big Bucks, a local rib joint. Not in the mood for ribs, I got a chicken and broccoli pizza. This pizza was out to get me. The chili flakes set my mouth aflame, but, this being Minnesota, one passing waitress noticed my pain and brought me some butter milk sauce for dipping which helped emensely. At the end of dinner, our waiter brought me a big plate of cut up pinneapple with the offer

this always helps me when I eat something spicey

. Did I mention I love Minnesota?

After the attempt of Amanda Wright to get us to go out, the four of us crashed immediately after a little The Bird Cage and a Giants game to wake up and hit the road at 7 am the next morning. After a big breakfast, a 3 hour massive convoy, a gas station stop and a realization that Henry had left his wallet back at the big breakfast, Pat and I, in the Expedition and 4 boat trailer, broke off from the convoy. We headed toward Janesville, or at least as close as we could get to Janesville before we got low on gas, got lost at an exit that lead us to other exits and other exits and other exits. Stroughton was as close as that Expedition got to Janesville before heading back north to Peawaukee, IL. There we waited for Katherine to drive up and find us off route 51 thanks to the help of a few regulars in a nearby bar. I say regulars because it was about 4 in the afternoon and they were already sipping beers while watching Home Imrpovement and Who Wants to be a Millionaire?

On the way to Janesville, I told Katherine all of the above story!

(Pictures to come)

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Photos

The Caravan
The 4 boat trailor is in the foreground. The Hurricane is on a trailor behind that and the 3 boat container behind a pick up truck is behind that.

Pat fiddling around on the trailor
If there's anything that needs to be fixed or done just let Pat know and it's taken care of. Just don't distract him!!

East Coast meets the MidWest
EAST COOOOAST!!

Luke
Luke's birthday is in August

it's Tall Guy
TG!!

The Crew!
The Crew! and the skipper, if you wanna get technical.