There had to be some disappointment somewhere on this journey. And of course, it was at the place I had the most expectations for: Hood River, OR. I have seen many magazine photos of the windsurfing there and knew that it was Mecca for the sport. I even ran into a guy about my age at a gas station in the middle of the desert and spoke with him about it. He had a big truck stuffed full of windsurfing gear, 4 or more boards and masts and just bulging with sailbags. He was from Canada and was making the trek to Hood River for some 4th of July sailing. Man, I will never complain about an hour drive to the beach again!
We finally got there about 11 in the morning after a very long drive to see this place. It turned out, as in life, that the drive there was more important than the place itself. The town was very nice, and extremely cool place to hang out with your lady, but the windsurfing spot itself was a bit of a letdown. In fact, it was much like the place where I windsurf at home, only with a lot more people. The wind was blowing, but not enough, and people were either sitting on the shore getting sun, or slogging through the cold water. As I learned in Hawaii, I am better off at home with the warm water and the once in a while wind that we get. Here, windsurfing is big, even the sports section of the newspaper has a section for the windsurfing forecast. These people spend lots of money and time to enjoy a few months in the summer. A windsurfer from Florida should never complain the rest of his life.
It turned out that the best part of the day was after I took a wrong turn near the ocean in Oregon and found myself on a lonesome back road and face to face with a deer that didn't mind me at all and even posed for photographs. After a trip of seeking wildlife in the woods, this was probably the biggest surprise...one more life lesson..
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