WindTracks
WindTracks
Oahu: The All Around Playground
By Sonja Evensen
IN THE GRAND old 80’s, O’ahu was the bustling Mecca of windsurfing. Anyone who had the desire to make windsurfing the center of his or her universe would end up on O’ahu.
WindTracks
Gone to Maui
By Brett Nichols
It is October. Windsurfers have all left Hood River, to follow summer into warmer parts. Days are short and cold, and I am a weekend-warrior windsurfer, working my corporate-suck desk job in Seattle.
WindTracks
What Women Want
By Martin Trees
I’m not claiming to be Mel Gibson, but I too know what women want and it didn’t take a 60-million dollar movie to find out. I simply asked.
WindTracks
What Women Really Want
By Melissa Graebner
LARRY RUSSO is a legend among San Francisco windsurfers. His maroon Saab is well-known at Crissy Field as the gathering place for a unique school of windsurfing where the lessons are free and the students are exclusively female.
WindTracks
Makin’ Mates
By Dan Welch
When my wife and I sailed away from the States aboard our cruising sailboat ten years ago, sailboards were a common feature adorning the decks of yachts.
WindTracks
The 2001 State of the Stoke…or just, The 2001 Stoke Update
By Dana Miller
Oh yeah, I’m stoked. And humbly grateful to have found so much inspiration and joy in the elemental process of seeking windy waves. So to have enjoyed all the quality time to pursue writing, meditate on the path I’ve taken, and search my soul for some hint of true purpose was a total bonus.
WindTracks
Saved by Windsurfing
By Chuck Kardin
In the summer of ’96, I was standing on the cusp of mid-life, the age of Duty and Responsibility. This forty-year-old father of three, owner of a dented station wagon and a serious mortgage in a staid, southern town, quit a lucrative, decorated fifteen year career as an industrial equipment sales rep.
WindTracks
Skimming the Shallows
By Dan Welch
Sailing alone and far from shore, beyond the reef surrounding Ilôt Brosse, in New Caledonia, all that blue got to me. When I fell for the third time, I leaped onto my board with an instant waterstart escaping the wide open hungry jaw of the deep blue sea. Without delay, I jibed and, seeking sanctuary, sailed towards the baby blue shallows.
WindTracks
Wind Suffering
At forty-three, this engaging windsurfer has the heart of a gypsy and a perspective on the world which Native Americans call “eagle vision”—an instinctive ability to see the big picture that comes from years of life experience.
WindTracks
A Circus Comes to Town
By Martin Trees
Cars and trucks were backed up from the Hood River Bridge straddling the Columbia River to Interstate 84. Actually, sitting in my car was the only rest I’d had in four days, but I wasn’t the only tired person around.