New Page 11

First Encounter With the Desert

SkateBoarding Magazine, February 1977

Part 2.

WindSkating the New Frontier

by JamieBudge
As you approach the van, the gust of wind that hits your sail is somewhat like that section of wave that you can't get through by climbing and dropping. So you go for the power stance. You lean harder into the sail. The wind gust increases. You strain to lean in and control the force. The wind gusts harder. You realize that in front of you is your favorite audience, and you are in an unbreakable back-sail tack for disaster. You are trying every beach trick you ever thought of to break the course. But you are in the tube and the wave is closing. The wind gusts and you are forced downwind. You catch the inside rail. The sail loses its foil in the wind and blows back against your body like a huge flyswatter, as you tumble across the ground and watch your sail take off 20 feet in the air like an unmanned hang-glider.

First Encounter with the Desert

Your pals back at the cars are all clapping and cheering. Obviously, the worst bruises are going to be to your ego. You were going too slow to really hurt yourself. Only when you laugh. The photographer says, "Tell me when you are going to do another one of those--I want to get a shot of it." You sit covered with desert dust, thankful that this is not asphalt. It stings your skin instead of removing it. You still feel sort of silly.

You have brought a wide assortment of skaters, surfers, skiers, bike riders and photographers with you on this experimental trip. They are unloading and setting up a handful of sails, and they take off in various directions. David Mellin, of destruction derby WindSkate testing, takes off with Mike Fadem, of early Bellagio notoriety. They have found both the front-side and back-side speed slot and are racing each other back and forth down the lake. They are last seen disappearing about two miles over the horizon with Richard Powell, their dynamic personal photographer, following in hot pursuit in an Indy landsailer car. Later, David clocks Mike on a similar run with the car speedometer. It reads an easy forty, but they both attest to going faster.

Sharon Fadem, who just WindSkated for the first time yesterday, is giving detailed instructions to her friend before heading off in her own personal practice session. She criss-crosses easily down the lakebed, offering feminine gracefulness to the perfectly trimmed sail. Paul Hoffman, who was once known to offer, "WindSkates are Wank, " is now saying, "I see what you've been talking about all this time," and he heads off in a power hike for the opposite side of the lake after saying, "You get going so fast out here."

Steve and Marty pull up. Steve just got into sails, and Marty rides motorcycles. They both disappear onto the expanse of the lake bed for what turns out to be 4 1/2 hours of solid WindSkating. Michael Daly, whose sole purpose out here today is to shoot pictures for SKATEBOARDER MAGAZINE, has vanished on a WindSkate Junior model, the only one left, to get the hang of it. What about the pictures? Film-maker John MacDonald is looking at your sail with a gleam in his eye, but he is restrained with a short pitch about the importance of getting footage out here, and starts loading film in his camera.

The lakebed is casting its own mirage of heat waves over the endless white expanse. The WindSkates now appear as small dots of color, racing around on the shimmering salt flats like a squadron of triangular-shaped UFO's, sporadically searching for any sign of civilized life. They are rapidly losing themselves in the distance, falling fast to downwind addiction. (It's easier to go downwind than upwind.) But for the sport to be complete, it must have total upwind access. And you start off to plot a set of tacks that will put you at the northwest and upwind end of the lake. There will be a reward for this, but now you head off for the far side of the lake, heading into the wind as much as possible. Speed is not in excess, but the progress is steady and the tack feels good and functional. Reaching the far side of the lake in just a matter of minutes, you swing around for another back-sail tack that will complete your upwind journey to the top of the lake. It is uneventful sailing, but you reach your destination.

The purpose is now evident. The wind is blowing directly down the lake toward the huddle of cars. But between you and them is a quarter mile of moguls topped with sagebrush and trying to give instruction, and everybody is heading off on their own private pattern. Paul Hoffman follows close, and out of nowhere David Mellin shoots between you from the other direction. Steve yells, "Coming by from behind you," and John Mellin swerves to miss and runs flat into a sand hill. Mike Fadem is quietly off to the side, tacking for a path through a group of you, Paul and Sharon, David shows up at high speed, carving through the nucleus, and everybody scatters, somehow avoiding collision. And this goes on and on, with the group dispersing, and then reassembling in a hot spot of activity. On film it must look like the last roundup, but spirits are high, and the cattle are obviously stampeding. The group breaks out onto open lakebed and heads off each in his own direction.

With the immediate arena empty, you can take advantage of the smooth surface and high winds for a freestyle WindSkate session. Without the motive to cover great distances, all turning and trimming become condensed into one continuing dancing flight. Hard back-side hikes flow immediately into high-speed power-punched turns, followed by a jet to the opposite side of the arena and a back-sail tack aimed at getting the sail as low to the ground as possible. In a good wind, this can be as low as 45-degrees without losing control or speed into the wind. Like a seagull, diving and darting with updrafts and down-currents, you flow back and forth, up and down for no other reason than to exercise your wings.

The one maneuver you have been saving to try out here is the back-side, back-sail tack, or, leaning backwards into the sail against the wind. Only a few WindSkaters have tried this, as it is a hard position to get into, and harder to use effectively. But it is the best upwing position yet found. It is like riding back-side on a surfboard your potential for burying your weight into the wave (or wind) are increased by your backside position. But if you lean too far in, you get sucked over, too far out; and you dig your rail with the same result. In the back-side, back-sail tack, you are looking for that slot where you can put your sail 45-degrees into the wind, while making maximum progress upwind.

It's actually easier than it looks, you remind yourself, and it looks so dynamic. Like half hang-glider poised precariously against the elements. So impressive as the camera turns your way. And you lean further and further into the wind to exaggerate the angle. Like a surfer caught in a continuing back-side carving turn, you lean in, even further. By now you are down to an impossible 30-degrees, with your head resting in the sail just feet above the ground. It is amazing that you are spaced about 5- to 15-feet apart with a variety of channels and turns. Mother Nature's slalom run. You can't wait. You've been saving a whole store of techniques just for this.

You get on board, pull the sail in trim and head off to the right backside. One hundred feet later, having gained full speed, you pull into a turn, swing the sail around the front of the board, and head off to the left front side. You are gaining speed this way, and approaching the moguls. You find a channel to enter the patch and head through a narrow path to the right,

waiting for an opening to turn ... you find it; pull the sail back, turn downwind, switch sides with the sail and trim out left through a 2-foot-wide slot, and on to an open break. The turning and sail switching becomes second nature, and you are lost in the dance. The WindSkater doesn't ride the skateboard, he rides the wind. His tool is the sail, and the desert sets the stage on which he performs.

"You are lost in a series of turns, speed channels, narrow gaps and an opportunity to fly around moguls like you were on the end of a ski rope tow. The WindSkater doesn't ride

You are lost in a series of turns, speed channels, narrow gaps and an opportunity to fly into turns around moguls like you were on the end of a ski tow rope. The dance is attracting attention, and back at the cars, the photographer and loose WindSkaters are watching. You fly out of the last moguls as if you had been making the run all your life, and head back off for the opposite side of the lake to reposition yourself for an encore.

Heading back across the open expanse, off to your side you see another unidentified flying object closing in for communication. From off in the distance, Paul Hoffman has found the upwind tack, and has come to join for a mogul run. Steve and Marty are also narrowing in, and on the vast expanse you all form a "Blue Angels" formation and track across.

All in unison, you make your turns at the edge of the lake and head upwind to the top of the lake. The rest of the crew is assembling there, having arrived by camera car tow or upwind foot pedal (known to some as skateboarding), and you make plans for filming. Michael Daly and John MacDonald are hanging out the back of the station-wagon. Powell is driving and six sails wait to embark. They flutter in the wind like flags, each of a different country gatheredl here together for an allied raid on the sand hills. The car leads the way, and six WindSkaters attempt to loosely follow.

All seriousness drops with the group camaraderie. You are laughing and still moving, still making progress upwind, and able to hold the position as you head for the camera. You didn't know you could get this far over; you didn't know it would be this easy; you didn't know that the skateboard would slip sideways across the desert dust and land you and your whole apparatus on your butt in the dust with the cameras grinding away.

But it offers comic relief and a fitting finale to your freestyle desert dance.

Four-and-a-half hours have vanished. A non-stop rush of desert fantasy and high-speed skating. And as the sun drops, the skaters cling to the last minutes as if they had just arrived. Dave and Paul take off for a last down-wind speed run and want to be picked up at the other end of the lake. Mike is already down there somewhere. Steve and Marty are off again tacking back to the north end.

In surfing, you always have the break in the action, when you have to paddle back out to the lineup. In skiing, the chair lift gives you time to reflect on your last ride and contemplate your next. In WinddSkating, the ride goes on endlessly without ever waiting for the next set. The waves keep coming, and there's no space between them. Just endless energy waiting to be tapped. Like a "Rincon" where everybody always has his own set wave, simultaneously.

You sit back at camp, folding up sails. Sharon is tuckered and John arranging his van. MacDonald and Daly are blowing dust out of their cameras and talking strobe technique with Powell. It is almost dark, yet four sails are still dashing around in the dusk.

The impressions and sensations have left an indelible inspiration on your psyche. One of those exhilarating a high that continues long after the action has ended.

Surfing has its pipelines and perfect points, skateboarding its super bowls and skate parks. It took surfers years to realize the potential of a perfect peeling point or to master a honing pipeline. Skateboarders have come and gone over the years before technology caught up with their ability.

WindSkating has just arrived, and, like jumping from the sidewalk to a super bowl, the potential has just been discovered by a handful of enthusiasts eagerly trying to do it all at once.

Previous surf safaris ski trips and skate sessions flash by for comparison. It's like a deja vu. It wasn't on the desert, or on a skateboard with a sail, but the vibrations are certainly familiar. You have been here before.

For More Information Contact:

Windskate Santa Monica
P.O. Box 3081
Tel: 310.453.4808
FAX: 310.829.9511
email: windskate@windskate.com


First Encounter With the Desert SkateBoarding Magazine, February 1977 Part 2. WindSkating the New Frontier by JamieBudge As you approach the van, the gust of wind that hits your sail is somewhat like that section of wave that you can't get through by climbing and dropping. So you go for the power stance. You lean harder into the sail. The wind gust increases. You strain to lean in and control the force. The wind gusts harder. You realize that in front of you is your favorite audience, and you are in an unbreakable back-sail tack for disaster. You are trying every beach trick you ever thought of to break the course. But you are in the tube and the wave is closing. The wind gusts and you are forced downwind. You catch the inside rail. The sail loses its foil in the wind and blows back against your body like a huge flyswatter, as you tumble across the ground and watch your sail take off 20 feet in the air like an unmanned hang-glider. First Encounter with the Desert Your pals back at the cars are all clapping and cheering. Obviously, the worst bruises are going to be to your ego. You were going too slow to really hurt yourself. Only when you laugh. The photographer says, "Tell me when you are going to do another one of those--I want to get a shot of it." You sit covered with desert dust, thankful that this is not asphalt. It stings your skin instead of removing it. You still feel sort of silly. You have brought a wide assortment of skaters, surfers, skiers, bike riders and photographers with you on this experimental trip. They are unloading and setting up a handful of sails, and they take off in various directions. David Mellin, of destruction derby WindSkate testing, takes off with Mike Fadem, of early Bellagio notoriety. They have found both the front-side and back-side speed slot and are racing each other back and forth down the lake. They are last seen disappearing about two miles over the horizon with Richard Powell, their dynamic personal photographer, following in hot pursuit in an Indy landsailer car. Later, David clocks Mike on a similar run with the car speedometer. It reads an easy forty, but they both attest to going faster. Sharon Fadem, who just WindSkated for the first time yesterday, is giving detailed instructions to her friend before heading off in her own personal practice session. She criss-crosses easily down the lakebed, offering feminine gracefulness to the perfectly trimmed sail. Paul Hoffman, who was once known to offer, "WindSkates are Wank, " is now saying, "I see what you've been talking about all this time," and he heads off in a power hike for the opposite side of the lake after saying, "You get going so fast out here." Steve and Marty pull up. Steve just got into sails, and Marty rides motorcycles. They both disappear onto the expanse of the lake bed for what turns out to be 4 1/2 hours of solid WindSkating. Michael Daly, whose sole purpose out here today is to shoot pictures for SKATEBOARDER MAGAZINE, has vanished on a WindSkate Junior model, the only one left, to get the hang of it. What about the pictures? Film-maker John MacDonald is looking at your sail with a gleam in his eye, but he is restrained with a short pitch about the importance of getting footage out here, and starts loading film in his camera. The lakebed is casting its own mirage of heat waves over the endless white expanse. The WindSkates now appear as small dots of color, racing around on the shimmering salt flats like a squadron of triangular-shaped UFO's, sporadically searching for any sign of civilized life. They are rapidly losing themselves in the distance, falling fast to downwind addiction. (It's easier to go downwind than upwind.) But for the sport to be complete, it must have total upwind access. And you start off to plot a set of tacks that will put you at the northwest and upwind end of the lake. There will be a reward for this, but now you head off for the far side of the lake, heading into the wind as much as possible. Speed is not in excess, but the progress is steady and the tack feels good and functional. Reaching the far side of the lake in just a matter of minutes, you swing around for another back-sail tack that will complete your upwind journey to the top of the lake. It is uneventful sailing, but you reach your destination. The purpose is now evident. The wind is blowing directly down the lake toward the huddle of cars. But between you and them is a quarter mile of moguls topped with sagebrush and trying to give instruction, and everybody is heading off on their own private pattern. Paul Hoffman follows close, and out of nowhere David Mellin shoots between you from the other direction. Steve yells, "Coming by from behind you," and John Mellin swerves to miss and runs flat into a sand hill. Mike Fadem is quietly off to the side, tacking for a path through a group of you, Paul and Sharon, David shows up at high speed, carving through the nucleus, and everybody scatters, somehow avoiding collision. And this goes on and on, with the group dispersing, and then reassembling in a hot spot of activity. On film it must look like the last roundup, but spirits are high, and the cattle are obviously stampeding. The group breaks out onto open lakebed and heads off each in his own direction. With the immediate arena empty, you can take advantage of the smooth surface and high winds for a freestyle WindSkate session. Without the motive to cover great distances, all turning and trimming become condensed into one continuing dancing flight. Hard back-side hikes flow immediately into high-speed power-punched turns, followed by a jet to the opposite side of the arena and a back-sail tack aimed at getting the sail as low to the ground as possible. In a good wind, this can be as low as 45-degrees without losing control or speed into the wind. Like a seagull, diving and darting with updrafts and down-currents, you flow back and forth, up and down for no other reason than to exercise your wings. The one maneuver you have been saving to try out here is the back-side, back-sail tack, or, leaning backwards into the sail against the wind. Only a few WindSkaters have tried this, as it is a hard position to get into, and harder to use effectively. But it is the best upwing position yet found. It is like riding back-side on a surfboard your potential for burying your weight into the wave (or wind) are increased by your backside position. But if you lean too far in, you get sucked over, too far out; and you dig your rail with the same result. In the back-side, back-sail tack, you are looking for that slot where you can put your sail 45-degrees into the wind, while making maximum progress upwind. It's actually easier than it looks, you remind yourself, and it looks so dynamic. Like half hang-glider poised precariously against the elements. So impressive as the camera turns your way. And you lean further and further into the wind to exaggerate the angle. Like a surfer caught in a continuing back-side carving turn, you lean in, even further. By now you are down to an impossible 30-degrees, with your head resting in the sail just feet above the ground. It is amazing that you are spaced about 5- to 15-feet apart with a variety of channels and turns. Mother Nature's slalom run. You can't wait. You've been saving a whole store of techniques just for this. You get on board, pull the sail in trim and head off to the right backside. One hundred feet later, having gained full speed, you pull into a turn, swing the sail around the front of the board, and head off to the left front side. You are gaining speed this way, and approaching the moguls. You find a channel to enter the patch and head through a narrow path to the right, waiting for an opening to turn ... you find it; pull the sail back, turn downwind, switch sides with the sail and trim out left through a 2-foot-wide slot, and on to an open break. The turning and sail switching becomes second nature, and you are lost in the dance. The WindSkater doesn't ride the skateboard, he rides the wind. His tool is the sail, and the desert sets the stage on which he performs. "You are lost in a series of turns, speed channels, narrow gaps and an opportunity to fly around moguls like you were on the end of a ski rope tow. The WindSkater doesn't ride You are lost in a series of turns, speed channels, narrow gaps and an opportunity to fly into turns around moguls like you were on the end of a ski tow rope. The dance is attracting attention, and back at the cars, the photographer and loose WindSkaters are watching. You fly out of the last moguls as if you had been making the run all your life, and head back off for the opposite side of the lake to reposition yourself for an encore. Heading back across the open expanse, off to your side you see another unidentified flying object closing in for communication. From off in the distance, Paul Hoffman has found the upwind tack, and has come to join for a mogul run. Steve and Marty are also narrowing in, and on the vast expanse you all form a "Blue Angels" formation and track across. All in unison, you make your turns at the edge of the lake and head upwind to the top of the lake. The rest of the crew is assembling there, having arrived by camera car tow or upwind foot pedal (known to some as skateboarding), and you make plans for filming. Michael Daly and John MacDonald are hanging out the back of the station-wagon. Powell is driving and six sails wait to embark. They flutter in the wind like flags, each of a different country gatheredl here together for an allied raid on the sand hills. The car leads the way, and six WindSkaters attempt to loosely follow. All seriousness drops with the group camaraderie. You are laughing and still moving, still making progress upwind, and able to hold the position as you head for the camera. You didn't know you could get this far over; you didn't know it would be this easy; you didn't know that the skateboard would slip sideways across the desert dust and land you and your whole apparatus on your butt in the dust with the cameras grinding away. But it offers comic relief and a fitting finale to your freestyle desert dance. Four-and-a-half hours have vanished. A non-stop rush of desert fantasy and high-speed skating. And as the sun drops, the skaters cling to the last minutes as if they had just arrived. Dave and Paul take off for a last down-wind speed run and want to be picked up at the other end of the lake. Mike is already down there somewhere. Steve and Marty are off again tacking back to the north end. In surfing, you always have the break in the action, when you have to paddle back out to the lineup. In skiing, the chair lift gives you time to reflect on your last ride and contemplate your next. In WinddSkating, the ride goes on endlessly without ever waiting for the next set. The waves keep coming, and there's no space between them. Just endless energy waiting to be tapped. Like a "Rincon" where everybody always has his own set wave, simultaneously. You sit back at camp, folding up sails. Sharon is tuckered and John arranging his van. MacDonald and Daly are blowing dust out of their cameras and talking strobe technique with Powell. It is almost dark, yet four sails are still dashing around in the dusk. The impressions and sensations have left an indelible inspiration on your psyche. One of those exhilarating a high that continues long after the action has ended. Surfing has its pipelines and perfect points, skateboarding its super bowls and skate parks. It took surfers years to realize the potential of a perfect peeling point or to master a honing pipeline. Skateboarders have come and gone over the years before technology caught up with their ability. WindSkating has just arrived, and, like jumping from the sidewalk to a super bowl, the potential has just been discovered by a handful of enthusiasts eagerly trying to do it all at once. Previous surf safaris ski trips and skate sessions flash by for comparison. It's like a deja vu. It wasn't on the desert, or on a skateboard with a sail, but the vibrations are certainly familiar. You have been here before.

For More Information Contact: Windskate Santa Monica P.O. Box 3081 Tel: 310.453.4808 FAX: 310.829.9511 email: windskate@windskate.com