It's a jewel of a nature haven, frequented by deer, geese and huge cranes that look like hang-gliders. The Corps of Engineers forbids outboard motors larger than 10 horsepower, so there are only fishermen's john-boats and a flotilla of meandering pontoon craft. The entire lake is a sailboat playground. Gliding lazily on an Appalachian lake, I'm often struck by the perfection of gravity. Hills rise and fall all around, but the water surface strikes an absolute level through the jumble.
Sailors know a special thrill of being close to nature, competing with the elements.
We trick the wind and water into yielding a noiseless, graceful, free ride that seems much faster than it is. The stronger the wind, the more the crew hangs over the side, riding the edge of excitement like occupants of a roller-coaster. Amazing physics is involved. The curved sail, tight in the wind, becomes an airfoil like an airplane wing. That's why a boat can sail partly toward the wind.