About Me

Wing foiling arrived in my life at exactly the right moment — a sport new enough that nobody had it figured out, demanding enough to require real commitment, and just strange and beautiful enough to feel like nothing else I'd ever done. The learning curve was humbling. The reward was unlike anything I expected.

Most people picture wing foiling on turquoise Caribbean water. And yes — I've had the privilege of sailing the warm, steady trade winds off Curaçao and the French side of St. Martin, where the conditions are consistent and the scenery is otherworldly. Those trips changed what I thought was possible on a board.

But the truth is, most of my wing foiling happens right here in the Northeast, and I've come to love that just as much. Lake Erie near Buffalo. Lake Ontario outside Rochester. Seneca Lake cutting deep through the Finger Lakes, with its long fetch and reliable winds. Canandaigua when the conditions align. These are not glamorous destinations. They are cold, sometimes unforgiving, often spectacular, and completely our own.

There's a particular kind of satisfaction that comes from foiling on water that most people haven't considered foilable — from knowing the local launch spots, reading a freshwater chop that doesn't behave like ocean swell, layering up in early spring to get a session in before anyone else would bother. The Great Lakes community is small, tight, and genuinely helpful in the way that communities built around shared difficulty tend to be.

That's what this site is about. Not the highlight reel — the actual experience of learning, progressing, traveling when we can, and making the most of the water we have access to. Gear that works. Spots worth knowing. Technique that took time to figure out. And the kind of honest perspective that only comes from someone still very much in the middle of the journey.

If you're foiling on the Great Lakes, dreaming of a Caribbean session, or just trying to figure out if this sport is for you — you belong here.

Technology and This Publication

If you follow any niche sport, you've probably noticed: the independent blogs and small publications that used to cover your community are disappearing. Local journalism and niche media lost their economic foundation when advertising revenue shifted to platforms that aggregate content without creating it.

The way I see it, small publishers now have a choice — either find a way to use technology as effectively as the platforms that disrupted us, or stop publishing. I chose to lean in. AI helps me research, accelerate content production, and create the cartoon-style images throughout this site. It's the difference between publishing weekly and publishing never.

The perspective, the experience on the water, the recommendations — those are mine. AI is a capable assistant, but every editorial decision runs through a human, and that human is me, Adam. I'm always in the loop. The wind powers the foil. The technology powers the publishing. The voice is always human.