The Wind Beckons

on January 26, 2012

I had an awful realization today—what if I don’t want Lake Travis to rise, the sun to shine, and the January summer breeze to lift my soul over the hills and onto the water?

So far, I’ve been successful in resisting the urge to check the wind forecast; I know that once I start, there is no turning back. Yet it seems Austin has set the stage for me: the January sun has been keeping the air over 65 degrees on most days, and the wind is actively thwarting my detailing sessions by blowing away my microfiber cloths—as if to remind me who really decides what Mohan Zhang does on afternoons. I’m literally running out of excuses! No, wait, not literally.

Ok, so what gives? Why haven’t I loaded up the roof racks, strapped the board on top, shoved my gear down towards the center console, and stayed in 3rd gear (for those nice Comanche Trail curves) all the way to Bob Wentz Park? (Tip: don’t actually do this to your engine.)

Oh yeah, it’s because there is no Lake Travis left. Last time I went, it was for a run, because the outline of the new shoreline, meaning the part that emerged once the water pulled back past the boat ramps, is on the order of miles. The new peninsulas that are forming are also replete with dangerous cedar stumps and we all know that Emma is shy and only stays on the road.

But alright, suppose Lake Travis came back in April. What then? I realized that I’ve reclaimed so much time from not doting on the wind forecast or even thinking about windsurfing that I might actually be actively avoiding continuing my quest to land the vulcan. That’s like the worst of both worlds: I know that windsurfing will be so much fun that I will spend all my time doing it, but I’m afraid to spend all my time windsurfing, so I actively avoid recognizing the joy that it would bring me if I were to do so?? *strange sound effect that sounds like the linear interpolation (in frequencies, not time) of “mwaa,” “arghh,” “nyaa,” and “wrrrrm”*