We’re rushing downwind against two knots of current. One minute it’s blazing sun, the next we’re being blasted by a cold squall. The water temperature is in the low 40’s the air is nearly 50. Despite wearing long underwear or gloves, everyone is stoked because we’re out on the Columbia River.
Free of the Willamette’s narrow confines, we only tack when we want to. We race without trying, happy to be free of our daily tasks. Even when the yard gets mysteriously wrapped around the mast, we fix it with a smile.
And thankfully, we don’t encounter any ships (until we’re off the water).
(Note specks in foreground are motor boats. Click to enlarge.)