Yesterday evening, I went sailing with Lars, Anne, and Paul.
Anne and Lars--Anne the championship sailor, Lars the president of the sailing club--sailed together.
Paul and I--Paul a two or three-time sailor, and me with one summer class under my belt--took the other boat.
The wind was strong and gusty.
Needless to say, Paul fell on our tiller as we were tacking toward downtown Portland, and I cut my foot while attempting to steer us home with no leverage on the rudder, which was coming up anyway, because the crimp where you secure the rope that keeps it deep in the water was on the part of the tiller that was no longer attached to the boat.
But the last two tacks before our boat was injured were amazing. Paul was a good skipper with me pulling the jib tight and barking at him to watch his tell-tales. I was hanging over the edge of the boat and Paul was pulling the main as tight as he could.
So that was yesterday.
Last Thursday, the preparations for Ryan and Heather's wedding continued.
The six of us--Ryan and I, Joe, Jeremy, Dan, and Tim--woke up early to the bright sun beaming through the windows.
Outside, the sound was scratching slowly against the rocky beach.
Joe fixed scrambled egg breakfasts to order. Dan cooked hash browns using fresh potatoes, garlic, and onions.
Somewhere in the middle of the day, we sauntered into Olympia so Jeremy, Dan, Joe, and Ryan could try on tuxedos. After a few adjustments, everything was okay.
Then we drove to the Olympic National Park. We drove for a good amount of time down a one-lane road with "turnouts" for oncoming traffic. When we stopped, we were parked next to a bridge that looked down several hundred feet to an incredible waterfall.
Then we began hiking up the trail (I think it is affectionately called the "ladder" trail, because it is literally like climbing a ladder in some places). We eventually reached the top of the ridge.
I really only have this to say: go to the Olympics. Just go.
That evening, Steve arrived. Dan and I steamed the clams we'd collected the day before, sauteed them in garlic and butter, and threw them in a pot of pasta and a fresh alfredo sauce Dan cooked up from scratch.
We barbecued corn in the husks, and a couple of oysters for good measure.
We topped off the evening with cigars and port.
And the tide went out, and we went to sleep with thoughts of the weekend fast approaching.
We all knew our time with Ryan was coming to a close--that it was time to prepare for the celebration, that there was plenty to do.
And we were blessed by the days we shared, and excited for the time to come.
