I pulled myself onto the board one more time, exhausted and spluttering water. My knees were banged up from kneeling on the board and my arms were tired from lifting, pulling and holding this new fangled contraption called the ‘wing-surfer’. It was my first session and, suffice to say, I didn’t make it back to the beach. In fact, during my walk of shame back to the launch, pulling that big board and dragging the wing on the wrist leash behind me, I didn’t even think I’d have the energy to try another downwind slog that day. Yet, over the course of the next few days at the AWSI trade-show in Hood River, Oregon, seemingly everyone, myself included, was trying the wing-surfer. It was foil frenzy all over again.
So,…
