I got on the road early this morning and met Jeff and Jennifer Melton at the Pilot Travel Center in Mt. Sterling on our way to Cave Run Lake. Tule Mor was in tow. Within an hour of arriving at Scott Creek Ramp we had Tule Mor on the water, the motor running and we were ready to sail.
There was precious little wind. It was an overcast day. The drive up had been enshrouded in a thick fog, which continued to obscure the sun as we sailed. Well, as we floated, sort of. Tule Mor is not, at this point, a good light wind sailboat. Her sails are aged and the luff edges are not crisp. She spills wind almost as much as she catches it. Fitting her with new sails would be a significant expense, probably more than $1,500 so what we have will have to be made to work for a while.
Sailing with Jennifer and Jeff is always fun. Jeff is an experienced and skilled sailor. He knows the workings of a boat inside and out and he can coax the best of a boat with his seamanship and his MacGuyver tricks.
We ate lunch on the water. Jennifer had prepared sandwiches and cold water. Both of which were excellent. Mid afternoon we made for the shore so we could put Tule Mor back on the trailer and move her over to Captain Hook's boat storage across the street from the ramp. In years gone by Tule Mor has spent time with Mrs. Hook. She's a very nice lady and since there are no power lines between her yard and the boat ramp one does not have to lower or raise the mast to launch. That's a real bonus.
Mrs. Hook is a character and well-known around Cave Run Lake. She is always cordial and kind, but she runs a tight ship. There must be over a hundred boats in her yard, for which she accepts no responsibility for loss or theft. Mrs. Hook told us where to park. I pulled in and directly into a very deep mudhole that was disguised by straw and grass. With the weight of the boat on the back the Tahoe stuck in the mud. Deeply.
For some reason the four wheel drive didn't engage on the Tahoe in the way one would expect. It acted as if only the two wheel drive was in place. One tire spun, the other three were still. Try as I might to get the four wheel drive to engage I just kept digging into the water-soaked mudhole even deeper. Jennifer inquired politely was to why only one tire was spinning. I asked if she had ever seen the movie, My Cousin Vinny. Yes, she said. Well, it's the same thing. Without a limited slip differential and without the four wheel drive engaging in an expected fashion, sit and spin was the order of the moment.
We took the boat off the hitch with some considerable effort. Then, we took a rope from the boat and tied it to the front of the Tahoe and the back of the Melton's Subaru Outback. The Outback (on the pavement) had just enough traction to let the four wheel drive on the Tahoe engage and out of the muddy bog it climbed without much effort. My suspicion is that the four wheel drive can't fully engage unless the vehicle moves forward. When the Subaru gave a slight nudge the four wheel locked in and our escape was complete. Almost.
Mrs. Hook called on one of her workers or relatives or maybe a bit of both to come help us with a Track Hoe. The young man maneuvered to the front of Tule Mor. Backed her out of her muddy encampment, turned her 180 degrees and backed in her in where I could get her out without approaching the mud again. Tule Mor secure in her spot, we decided to head to the Melton's boat for a little sailing aperitif. Crossing the highway the Tahoe would not disengage from four wheel low. Still stuck, in a manner of speaking. I dropped Jeff at the marina and decided to drive around the parking area fiddling with the drive knob, trying to run backwards a distance, and prayer, and finally out of four wheel it kicked. Mud was everywhere. Everywhere. All over the Tahoe. All over me. War paint, I called it.
Off to Second Wind. They decided to get her out on the water. This just became a very long day. Once we hit the lake in their boat I wasn't going to get home until well after dark. We motored across the lake, dropped anchor and feasted on sardines and saltines for dinner with a side of Buffalo Trace as the sun set across the lake. Wow. Cave Run is a pretty lake on a bad day. But this had turned from a gloomy day to a cloudless sun-drenched day, and as the sun went below the hills and trees the opposite side of the lake was still in the sun making a striking contrast. The moon in all its waxing gibbous glory began to shine, then Venus, then Mars. We sailed with the spinnaker guiding, the sun now fading, until the moonlight played upon the waters. Long day, yes? Good day? Without question.
In darkness we crept back to the dock sailing in light wind until I encouraged them to get me to shore so I could head home. Reluctantly we dropped the sails and started the motor. I was at the helm and as we approached Scott Creek Marina the lights shining from the dock were our only guide. I narrowly missed a No Wake buoy, through sheer luck, headed to the fuel dock, where they wished me safe drive and then they disappeared back onto the lake as I climbed the hill to the car. Out again they went to anchor and slumber.
The drive home was no issue. I pulled into the driveway 14 hours after I had left. I fell into the bed. A grateful tired encircled me.
Sabbatical is intended to be a time of intentional rest and intentional spiritual renewal for me. It is not a vacation. I am expected to use my time away from the church in a way that benefits me and will bring benefit to the church once I return next week. One might ask, how does a day of leisure such as this fit the requirements of sabbatical time? I would offer just a couple thoughts on that, and perhaps some reflections post-sabbatical. First, as I have said along the way, sabbatical has been about experiencing people. Jennifer and Jeff are becoming deeper friends as time moves on. I have learned much from Jeff about discipline and ingenuity and creativity, and I have learned much from Jennifer in matters of the Spirit. Time with them tends to center around deep thoughts and questions -- and it's fun and relaxing. Sailing is itself a spiritual exercise. It requires an attentiveness to the present moment. It involves wind and water - the two elements of creation and baptism. Finally, when working at the church full time I rarely find the time to do something that speaks to the inner depths of my spirit. There is much to do between family and church that leisure time tends to be recovery time instead of experiential recreation time. The sabbatical gives me a chance to change that a bit and to test if there is something I need to intentionally add to engage in proper self-care and spiritual deepening. By all my counts -- today was a sabbatical day and not a vacation day.
Peace and Love,
Jerry
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