Water temp 42, air temp 36 (and forecast to fall throughout the day) for a "100 rule" score of 78. But I hadn't sailed in two weeks, so when the phone rang and it was the Wolf I couldn't say Yes fast enough. "It's going to be high tide at the Pier" he warned. "It's windsurfing, right?" I needed a fix badly.
Scott said it was "too cold", Peconic Jeff had some lame reason for being in the city, Jonathan was skiing, and I don't know where everybody else was, but we arrived to find 25 knots of NW and no ice to contend with. The tide was ebbing quickly, and we had excellent ramps for jumping (the Wolf on his brand-spanking new Ezzy 4.7, and me on a 5.0.) The wind and waves kept building, and I managed to pogo the mast on the inside just as it became time to rig down (carnage limited to a snapped mast base) and we were soon back out on 4.2 and 4.5 sails, having a great time.
Even with frequent breaks I could only manage two or three runs before needing to hit the beach to warm my hands, huddled in the lee of the jetty. When I mentioned to the Wolf how the air was getting colder and that I didn't know how much more windsurfing I had in me, he responded with the title of this post. Not long afterwards I did see ice on my sail following a particularly frigid gust, and as my left foot was starting to turn into a block of ice and the wind was getting holey it seemed an excellent time to call it a day.
Every session in January is a gift.
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