The Sail La Vie was heeled over so far to port that I was standing upright on the side of the boat, grasping the big steering wheel as much to stay aboard the thrusting 31-footer as to hold it, with most of my might, at due north. It was a few minutes after midnight on Tuesday, July 22, the third night of the Race to Mackinac. • It was also the 100th running of the race – my first time in any sailing race, and only my second stint on a sailing crew of any kind. • As the rain began to pelt down, and the wind, unbelievably, continued to increase, death didn’t cross my mind, but only because death was an answer, and I only had time for one question: “How did I get here?”
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