today im taking a quick pause before answering two requests to talk about sailing. above and below are two pictures i found of my sailboat that my cousin and i spent a summer restoring. i believe that man inherently needs a project; a mountain to climb, a cabin to build, or a boat to restore. i found something that i wrote about my boat harriette a year ago:

harriette is my boat. my sailboat. 
my boat is my getaway car.  a 14 foot long castle in the french alps. a fiberglass and wooden aristea to the freedom i find in treading water just west of the lindon city municipal dump. 
i firmly believe that harriette embodies exactly how far i could ever possibly push $485. my cousin, nate and i  found our 1962 lido 14 sitting in a field, bleached and weather-worn. the bow was cracked and peeling, wooden transom rooted out, centerboard flayed open, and the overall color was something like dusty red. but her sails hung taught and the hull was solid. 
our first sail was spent with nate rigging, rerigging, and scouring the floor carefully for tiny bolts while i held onto the sails and tried to steer with my feet. we eventually caught wind though, and sailed close-hauled into harbor before the sun finally gave up and sank. 
i'd guess we reached a break-neck speed of maybe 7 knots per hour (8 mph) that afternoon. more than enough.

now my wife and i keep eyeballing the sailboat, figuring out when we can sand down the hull and repaint it a smooth, frictionless red, and the inside a clean white. more projects - good, healthy, happy man.

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