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tribute to warren miller

Thank You for the Memories: A Tribute to Warren Miller

Warren Miller didn’t teach me to love skiing; my parents did that when they put me on skis at an age before I can remember. But my parents also taught me to love Warren Miller. And what Warren Miller taught me, sitting in the cafeteria at Boyne Mountain cold and wet and happy, with a hot chocolate in my small hands, neck craned, eyes glued to the big screen, was how far my skis could take me.

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chicago mac

The Mac Races, Part 2: Chicago to Mackinac

I stood in front of Union Station with my "Lietuva" duffel bag on my back, my foul weather gear hung neatly on a hanger thrown over my shoulder, feeling like a seasoned veteran. Sure, I had never done the Chicago Yacht Club's annual Race to Mackinac, but I had just sailed up Lake Huron. I was experienced.

That evening at dinner, I regaled my cousins with stories of sailing under star-filled skies and searching for wind in the fog. And, I answered as nonchalantly as I could the most commonly asked questions, "How did you get on this boat?"

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bayview mac race

The Mac Races, Part 1: Port Huron to Mackinac Island

It was a hot Saturday morning; I was dressed in an official Detroit Tigers polo shirt and matching baseball cap as I headed out to my boat. I had gotten the call only a week earlier to join the crew of Chico 2 for the 88th Port Huron to Mackinac Race hosted by the Bayview Yacht Club and sponsored by Bell's Beer. Yes, the race came with all the Oberon you could drink!

The boat is a 1D35, a fast boat designed especially for racing. (I sail on one in San Francisco called Alpha Puppy.) It's got a sparse cabin, but I was happy to hear that one of my crewmates had gotten the head (toilet) working just for me—I'm the first girl ever to race on Chico 2. As per tradition, the four professional sports teams in Detroit drew boats to represent them in the race and the Tigers drew us, which explained my unorthodox sailing outfit.

Just before 10:00 am, we pulled our docklines and eased our way toward St. Clair river. The mood in downtown Port Huron was light and fun with over 200 boats flying their colors, all crew on deck, waving to the massive crowds. As we paraded past the Port Huron Yacht Club, an announcer called out the names and skippers of all the boats. It was quite a sight to be in the middle of so many sailboats, all going the same way for the same purpose: to race as fast as they could up the 230 nautical miles of Lake Huron to Mackinac Island.

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spinnaker mishaps

Oh, Chute!

It was a blustery day on the South Arm of Lake Charlevoix for the annual Ironworks Regatta. Sailing from Boyne City to East Jordan brought the boats with their spinnakers across the lake in front of our house around 3:00 pm. With the nice northerly wind at our backs, we decided to join them. We hadn't raised our spinnaker in almost two seasons, but what the heck, we got it out of the garage and gave it a try.

There was some debate between my dad and I about how exactly we should rig the sail. We own a beautiful symmetrical spinnaker custom-made for us by Yager Sails & Canvas in Spokane, WA. A Christmas gift for my dad from my brothers and I, its panels are yellow, green, and red, the colors of the Lithuanian flag. Traditionally we have sailed the spinnaker in pretty much the same style that my family does anything else: We bought it, hoisted it up, and figured the rest out later. My dad pointed the boat down-lake to run with the wind and cut the motor while I grabbed the sail bag and crawled up to the bow. I pulled the sail out of the bag (up to this point it had never occurred to any of us that there is a correct way to pack a spinnaker to guarantee it will deploy without getting tangled). Since we don't have a spinnaker pole, one way we've tried to rig it is by tying a short line to one of the clews like a tackline and tying the other end to the pulpit rail, with both sheets tied to the other clew. (Yes, we were trying to make an asymmetrical spinnaker out of a symmetrical spinnaker.) However, I decided to raise the sail before tying that little line on, or even passing the sheets back to my dad at the tiller. I just attached the halyard and hoisted the sail into the heavens. Panic ensued. Let's call this, Launch Number One.

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first solo sailing

First Solo Sail

It is a luxury for most people to quit their job and spend a summer on the lake reading, writing, painting, and of course, honing their sailing skills. Indeed, I count myself among those people—but that is exactly what I'm doing this summer.

It was a calm afternoon when I arrived at my family's cottage on Lake Charlevoix in Northern Michigan. Without any wind to tempt me towards the water, I spent the time unpacking and setting up my workspace. The next morning was equally calm, and so after fixing a hearty Sunday breakfast, I sat myself down in front of the computer, anxious to start crossing things off my To Do list.

It wasn't long before the American flags that line the shore up and down the lake stood erect in a brisk breeze, drawing my gaze away from the computer and out the windows toward the little Victoria 18 tied to a buoy just beyond the drop-off.

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