Low Key NJ Sailing Club II

I happened to be driving down rt. 31 today, coming home from

camp pick-up in the Poconos, when I saw a sign for Spruce Run

State Park and Recreation Area.  I immediately thought of a sail-

blogger with whom I am familiar, who said he used to sail Sunfish 

and Lasers there a few years back.  There was no clubhouse, no 

trophy room, no carriage house, nobody walking around in navy 

blazers and white slacks, no clay tennis courts.  Just a shed that 

housed all the necessary items to hold races and functions that a 

group of fun-seeking sailors would need.  No dining room 

minimum, no dress code, no dockmaster, no transient slip fees.  

Just  five bucks to enter the park and a ramp fee if you need to 

roll your boat into the water.  Granted, the annual dues are a bit 

steep at more than double those of my club, but they're still a 

bargain and who's to judge what price to pay for happiness?  

I had windsurfed there a few times in the early nineties, although

the wind never managed to blow hard enough to get me planing.

I thought it was a nice place nevertheless, and agreed that to sail

a boat there could be an enjoyable and satisfying way to spend the 

day.  Today, however, I felt as though I was treading on hallowed

ground.  After reading about the racing, the pizza and beer

get-togethers following the races, and the mystery Sunfish sailor guy

 who showed up one day, I felt as if I could have fit right in.

The mystery guy, I instantly realized, was an old friend and

skipper of mine from the mid seventies.  This blogger had struck 

so many chords of mine in so few words that I felt a natural

connection to him, one that to this day draws me to him and his 

site several times a day.  Without getting too mushy, his was 

without a doubt the blog that convinced me to jump into the

 blogosphere head first and not look back.  At least not too often.  

This scene is one that the blogger has probably seen at least a

hundred times.  On the hottest day of the year, I was happy to

feel a decent breeze coming out of the West with this little cabin 

sloop heeling back and forth with the puffs.  I felt the blogger 

behind me, rolling his Laser dolly down the poured concrete ramp.

Just up the hill from Spruce Run, I couldn't resist snapping this

photo.  I wondered if my blogger ever saw this lonely Laser

sitting by the roadside, hoping that some optimistic up-and-coming

sailor would rescue her and dig the potting soil from her cockpit.

I've seen boats in worse shape.  At least the mast step is intact!