I'm writing this post from a motel room somewhere on Route 81 in western PA. I honestly don't know the name of the town, though I could probably find out with a call to the front desk. However, the location doesn't matter. What matters is that the first leg of my voyage is complete and I'm on my way home -- hopefully arriving in time for Helena's Birthday.
But before I get into the details of the last couple days, I wanted to address a question that several readers have asked, which is "Why are you so dependent on an engine? Why not just sail to windward?"
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