Return from the mountain
On Sunday, we managed to get underway in plenty of time to reach the race course area and check-in with the check-in boat before the race.
Our start was so-so; we missed out on a great start partly because we miscalculated, and partly because a group of boats that wasn't racing at that moment interfered with us (in violation of the racing rules).
At the windward mark, the winds calmed quite a bit, and shifted some 90 degrees, making the planned run into another mostly windward beat. Our spinnaker didn't stay up long at all.
Then the real fun came: a thunderstorm with lightning, rain, and hail. Quite a bit of hail; some even managed to fall in my mouth! Although quite a few boats quit the race, and other boats didn't start, we did finish our race, in spite of our skipper beginning to show signs of hypothermia and erratic winds, vivid lightning flashes, booming thunder, and dense hail. When jibing, I had to spill water and ice from the sail to keep the rest of the crew from being soaked by water gushing out of the leech and foot of the mainsail. All further racing was called off. Carol Anne was shivering continually by the time we reached the marina. Penzance steered us home.
Afterwards, we changed into dry clothing and drove to Dillon, stopping at the bulletin board (but not in time to see results, which were being removed), Tiki Bar, and merchandise area. We attended the awards ceremony, once it eventually got underway. The local Etchells sailors didn't join us or speak with us, but we did visit with sailors from Carter Lake and elsewhere.
Then we returned to Frisco, dropped Carol Anne off at the condo to recover, and hauled out and de-rigged Black Magic. I also paddled our kayak for the last time at Dillon. That evening we tried a new restaurant, the Pub downstairs in the Arapahoe Cafe in Dillon, which has nightly food specials. Sunday was burger night and Tadpole was delighted to find a green chile cheeseburger this far north. Although the chiles were mild, there was enough hot sauce on the table so that Tad could raise the heat level. Penzance eventually left for a red-eye flight to New York, and we packed for Monday's journey.
It took quite a while on Monday for us to pack and clean out the condo, so we didn't leave until lunch time, driving out of Frisco on a drizzly, gray day. So, it wasn't long before we were ready to stop for lunch, just 25 miles up the road in Leadville -- and we do mean up; Leadville's elevation is variously given as 10,152 to 10,200 feet above sea level. At times, the steep grades slowed our truck, towing 5,000 pounds astern, to a near crawl. Happily for us, the Leadville Pizza Hut still had their buffet on, so we were soon revived.
In Alamosa, we emerged into sunshine and warmth, restoring our memory of summer for the first time in several days. Not long after managing the steep grade up to La Manga Pass, we were back in New Mexico. There we left Black Magic near the marina and boat ramp at Heron, checked out some campsites on behalf of Buccaneer sailors, left a kayak in one of our marina slips, and visited with some Heron sailors. We didn't make it to the cabin, as sunset was approaching, but instead drove to Los Alamos, there to let "Tadpole" visit for a night with his grandparents before he drove south on Tuesday with Dulce in the folks' Cherokee.
We managed to arrive in Albuquerque around 11:30, only to receive a decided shock and unpleasant surprise. After opening the garage door, we could see that the door leading into the house had been opened and propped open ... and then we saw that the back door of the house was ajar ... and then we saw that our home had been ransacked and some items stolen. Not a good way to return. Promptly we called police on the non-emergency line and quite quickly thereafter and officer arrived to take our report ... but not to offer much encouragement of getting our possession back, many of them of enormous sentimental value, especially to Carol Anne. Sad.