The Beast-Running for My Dad
“Tips up.” “Put the rope between your skis.” “When the rope gets tight, stand up and lean back.” That’s how my dad taught me to water ski. We had this old aluminum fishing boat with a 9 horsepower engine. My brother would have to sit up in the front, or the nose would rise too far out of the water. I skied on a pair of adult skis that my dad had cut down. Eventually, we moved up to a proper motor boat, and real slalom skis, but what did not change was my dad driving the boat. He spent hours driving us around that lake...taking us through the whip so that we could work on our leans and sprays...and, alternating my brother and I through the slalom course, so that we could turn on a dime. Rick and I spent countless hours behind that boat. We were competitive, and we held our own with the Ski Nautique skiers on the lake. The rest clamored to go tubing. My dad took the helm for all of us. When he would drive us by our house, we would flash four fingers i