Our good friend B. explains the forecast and, by implication, why the grass can wait to be mowed another day.

We were going to title this something more entertaining like "My Crack Head Friends" but spending two minutes searching through Google Images of before and after pics of cocaine and meth addiction was profoundly distressing - thus, the simpler title.

One of the absolute joys of windsurfing in Atlanta are our friends. In our younger days, we used to arrive at Van Pugh and be on the water in minutes. Now, we chat, gossip and catch up so much that we sometimes don't notice that the wind has picked up. We aren't saying that our friends make up entirely for driving fifty minutes and finding the wind much less than predicted (they aren't THAT great) but sitting around and talking on a pleasant spring day comes pretty close.

However, some of our friendships have evolved into some less healthy relationships. We didn't notice it at first but several episodes over the last few months highlighted the issue. Some of you may have experienced the same thing.

We have one friend, B., who has a pretty flexible schedule during the day. Consequently, B. often can make mid-week sessions that most of us who have more conventional responsibilities must miss. B. isn't exactly starved for sailing time as he spends quite a lot of time in Nags Head and manages to squeeze in windsurfing on his frequent travels. For some, that would be enough but not for B. He loves windsurfing.

We do a lot of our work at home which makes us an easy target for B.'s delinquent influence. B. rings us up: "Hey, the forecast looks really good, There is a low pressure... " B. is also a former pilot so he's about as much a weather junkie as anyone here (and that is saying A LOT). B. then descends into an explanation of why the forecast is good to the level that has us cowering in inadequacy.

We explain that we have something pressing to do. Maybe it's a server that is out of commission that's keeping a bunch of people from getting work done. Maybe it's the grass that grows so tall in our yard during the sailing season that our neighbors think we are raising bison that needs cutting. But, B. persists. Dang it. B. is a really nice guy and you just don't want to say no to him. Besides, maybe the bison in our front yard can figure out why the server crashed.

Next thing we know, the trailer is hooked up, we're rolling up the road and headed to Van Pugh, dang it. No matter what we had planned for the day, it's all shot. Well, at least the forecast is supposed to be good.

R. is another of our friends, one of the few who actually live close to us. We're sort of neighbors. He's actually stopped by while we were out front cutting the bison habitat one day. R. seems to have a pretty limited amount of time to windsurf although he enjoys it. As well, his equipment requires a bit more wind than ours as he makes do with a smaller board and sail as his max.

Given the restrictions of his schedule and equipment, R. needs a windy weekend to sail. Not much else matters. R. rang us up a couple of weeks ago. "Hey, the forecast looks windy, are you thinking of going?"

As we really like R., we were trying to find any reason to say yes. Any reason at all. However, almost any reason we came up with was countered with the brutal reality that it was all of 34 degrees when he called and the high wasn't expected to be more than a couple of degrees higher.

It's not that we won't go out in the cold but this was in the middle of a particularly bitter period this winter and the water wasn't much warmer than the air. Spring was around the corner and no matter how much we wanted to go, the fact was all we could think about was the pain in our extremities we would have had when they thawed.

It broke our heart to say no even if it meant being bad friends. At what temperature do you abandon your friends? Well, in Jeopardy terms, "What is 34 degrees, Alex?"

S. is another friend with a restricted mid-week schedule. Work and family mean that he has to maximize his weekend time on the water. Like us, S. has embraced big sails and wide boards to squeeze as much planing time as conditions will allow. He's also game for all sorts of stupid adventure such as longer distance sails like Tidwell or Sunrise Cove to Van Pugh. We should add that some of these trips were done in truly marginal conditions which meant getting home later and much more blistered than intended.

How many of our adventures with S. turn out. Nothing like sailing halfway across Lake Lanier in a dying wind.

Winter finally broke in the past week and we were all itching to get on the water no matter how unlikely the conditions. A few times in recent weeks, the NWS actually underforecast the wind and a bunch of us were hoping for the same. Sunday came around and it was way too nice to think it wouldn't be windy. S. called.

"Hey, it's a bit breezy at my house (meaning the leaves were barely moving). I was wondering if you were going."

I spent five minutes talking about how much I wanted to go and how, realistically, there wasn't a reasonable chance for wind. S. then spent five minutes saying the same thing. We then spent another five minutes repeating the whole process and recapping it. It was like watching Sports Center where four ex-athletes state, restate and then regurgitate that same analysis as if the world economies actually depended upon whether some 20 yr. old would enter the draft.

Four talking heads discuss this year's draft and the forecast for today.

We both knew what was happening. The forecast was iffy. The reality was there was little chance for wind. But, we both desperately wanted to go, just on the long chance something happened. But, we both knew nothing was going to happen. Neither of us wanted to come out and say that we were going to drive an hour just to get skunked and make the other feel obligated to do the same.

We both went, rigged really big and neither of us got on a plane a single time. But, it was a spectacularly clear and beautiful day. Yeah, it was worth it.