We sent a few rookies hurtling down dangerous singletrack, bounding through an American Ninja Warrior course, and splashing across miles of open ocean. They proved that if youā€™re willing to work hard, conquer your fears, and maybe don some superhero spandex, anything is possible.

Become a Bro

The quest: go from being a bookish, frail, risk-averse weakling to a badass master of downhill mountain biking.Ģż

The trouble started right away. ā€œIā€™ll send you a training plan,ā€ said James Wilson, creator of and onetime coach to downhill world champ Aaron Gwin. My problem stemmed from a simple fact: I have never trained for anything in my life. I avoid physical exertion. But this was no ordinary endeavor. My colleagues at this magazine thought it would be funny to give me eight weeks to become the sort of downhill-obsessed bro Iā€™d often derided. I had been on a mountain bike only a dozen or so times. I needed to get in shape quickly, and Wilson is a revered coach.Ģż

ŗŚĮĻ³Ō¹ĻĶų Fitness Special

127 radical tips for total health.

Read More

But I immediately regretted committing to a training program. There were stretches, exercises, and bike workā€”every single day. The first morning, the whole thing took nearly 90 minutes, the sort of lengthy stretch I typically reserve for pursuits like reading, eating, and napping. After a few days, I was able to shave 15 minutes from that as it ceased being necessary to Google things like ā€œhow to do a Turkish get-up.ā€ But it still ate up more than an hour of my morning. I began to curse Wilson when I woke, and I briefly abandoned my workouts altogether. Which is what brought me to my first lesson: training is useless if you donā€™t do it.Ģż

Watch Senior Editor Jonah Ogles Become a Downhill HeroĢż

So I split the program in halfā€”exercises and weight work one day, bike rides the next. (I still stretched each morning.) After a few weeks, I could reach summits on my local trail system without feeling like a Honda Civic had just rolled over my chest. My legs didnā€™t turn to rags after the 600-foot climb up the gravel road behind my house. Still, when I actually started riding downhill, I discovered that feeling fit and understanding how to ride twisty singletrack studded with roots, basketball-size rocks, berms, fallen trees, and not-so-fallen trees are very different things. To help, I enlisted Dave Stanton, a marketing guru who spends much of his summer riding gnarly technical trails at New Mexicoā€™s . ā€œGet low and really feel the bike,ā€ Stanton said the first time we rode, reinforcing what Wilson had told me over the phone. On another ride, he encouraged me to hinge at the hips, keep my back straight, and hold my arms in a half push-up instead of squatting over the bike. I learned to keep the bottom bracket in a straight line between the ground and my hips.Ģż

By week eight, I was ready for a final test: riding Angelā€™s Plunge, a course with 1,200 feet of descending. It isnā€™t the parkā€™s most difficult ride (earlier, Stanton had pointed out a stretch of giant boulders that gave me an instant panic attack), but itā€™s one of the longest and has all the features Iā€™d been working onā€”rock gardens, ramps, berms, drops, roots, and a dozen other things that could break my collarbone.Ģż

As we headed down, though, I realized that I was in controlā€”the techniques Iā€™d practiced began to work, and I even started having fun. I whooped around turns. I laughed over rocks. I even caught some air. By the time I got to the bottom, my transformation was nearly complete. There was just one thing left to do: pick a dubstep track for my sick helmet-cam footie.

ā€”Jonah Ogles

Embrace the Dark Side

The secret to becoming a better endurance athlete may lie in getting jacked at the gymā€” even if itā€™s the last thing you want to do.

Everything hurt. Like really, really freaking hurt. For a month, I had squatted, deadlifted, and pressed my way to exhaustion so complete that getting out of bed in the morning was an achievement. Iā€™ve run 100 miles, but Iā€™d never been this sore.Ģż

When I first heard that training to squat more than my body weight would help me improve as an endurance athlete, I wasnā€™t sure I could even pick up a 30-pound dumbbell. In my mind, weight lifting was a thing for protein-guzzling meatheads who use words like swole. Iā€™m a five-two, 108-pound runner. Hill repeats are the closest Iā€™ve come to strength training. And like most endurance athletesā€”and most womenā€”I was terrified of two things: getting bulky and getting hurt.Ģż

To assuage my fears, I called ultrarunner , who recently opened a coaching business in Bozeman, Montana, called the , dedicated to training climbers, runners, skiers, and mountain bikers. And a big part of his program is strength work.Ģż

On Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays, Wolfe had me training very, very hard. Mondays and Fridays were for rest. Weekends I could do the running and climbing that I enjoy most. ā€œYouā€™ll hate me (and hopefully love me a little) by the end of thisā€¦,ā€ Wolfe texted. He wasnā€™t wrong.Ģż

For my first workoutā€”a leg session involving jump squats, deadlifts, and, of course, regular squatsā€”I made do with some random kettlebells and a jury-rigged pull-up bar. For my second, I found a community gym full of tattooed dudes in tank tops grunting through bench presses, though I had to ask where the barbells were. Before (and sometimes during) workouts, I watched what felt like hundreds of videos that Wolfe sent to guide me through proper techniqueā€”keeping my back straight and making slow, controlled movements.Ģż

When I started, I could only squat the 45-pound bar, but I slowly added weight, five or ten pounds every couple of days. After week two, I could do a pull-up. And by week three, I could squat my body weight. Granted, the morning after workouts I could barely walk to the coffee shop without wincing. But I realized that before stepping into a gym, I never quite pushed hard enough and frequently ruined rest days because I was too agitated to take time off. Training to increase my squat strength broke me down to a place where I didnā€™t really have a choice. Then it built me up stronger.

What impressed me most, though, was how much confidence I gained by making such huge progress in such a brief amount of timeā€”progress that translated to the things I actually love. During my final week of Wolfeā€™s program, I squatted 135 pounds and led a climb that was many degrees of difficulty beyond what Iā€™d been able to do before. ā€œHOLY FUCK YEA!!,ā€ Wolfe texted when I told him. My uphill running power felt stronger, too.

In the end, I still prefer exercising outsideā€”but if getting swole helps in those pursuits, Iā€™m willing to keep hitting the gym.

ā€”²Ń±š²¹²µ³ó±š²ŌĢżµž°ł“Ē·É²Ō

Embarrass Yourself

One very tall manā€™s reckless pursuit of balletic grace.

My legs trembled violently as I clutched the back of a chair in my bedroom, trying to polish off another hellish set of pliĆ© squats. ā€œSo this ballet stuff is a little harder than you thought, huh?ā€ my wife said.

Iā€™ve never claimed to have flexibility or balance. Iā€™m a reasonably athletic six-foot-three and am more comfortable muscling through than using any sort of technique when it comes to my athletic pursuitsā€”climbing, mountain biking, and skiing. So I wasnā€™t exactly thrilled to spend eight weeks learning ballet to see if it would make me better at them.Ģż

A small comfort was that professional athletes, like New York Jets defensive tackle Steve McLendon, do ballet to improve balance, core strength, and flexibility and help prevent injury. The Dallas Cowboys even installed ballet bars in 2014.Ģż

To lead me through, I enlisted onetime ballerina and former ŗŚĮĻ³Ō¹ĻĶų staffer Meaghen Brown.ĢżThe two of us climbing together is a study in opposites: sheā€™s five-two and ascends with graceful precision, and Iā€™m a big brute who lumbers up the wall.Ģż

Before we started, we knew that there was no way to turn me into a ballerina. So we focused on a single goal: to master a pirouette, one of the sportā€™s most iconic moves.Ģż

ā€œDoing it well takes a combination of strength, balance, flexibility, and physics,ā€ Meaghen told me. ā€œIt should look and feel effortless.ā€ But actually holding my weight up on one foot while making a controlled spin was far from easy. I stretched, practiced the basic positions, and performed innumerable calf raises and lunges. There were days when I woke up and thought that I would never walk again. It was some of the most difficult training Iā€™ve ever done. Though my core got stronger, I constantly felt like I was straining to achieve the sort of controlled, fluid movements I was striving for.Ģż

When it came time for my final go at a pirouette, I was successful in that I made it all the way around, but to say it looked good would be a bald-faced lie. I lost track of all the individual elementsā€”the lift, the spin, the landingā€”and my form broke down quickly.Ģż

When I finally climbed back on my bike, I didnā€™t notice a difference. But the climbing gym was another story. I used to struggle with intermediate V5ā€™s, but during the last week of ballet I found myself climbing a tricky V7. It was a slabby problem full of sloped holds that required a hand-foot match plus a heel hook on the third move, followed by long reaches and delicate balancing acts. Eight weeks ago, I would have relied solely on power and likely failed. This time, as I felt myself about to peel off the wall, I envisioned how a dancer would climb itā€”moving intentionally, mindful of balanceā€”and finished it cleanly. I was so happy, I thought about doing a little dance. But only thought about it.Ģż

ā€”µž°ł²ā²¹²ŌĢżøé“Ē²µ²¹±ō²¹

Welcome Fear

The best way to beat being scared of confined spaces is to get into a really tight spot.

ā€œYouā€™re not claustrophobic, are you?ā€ I turn to my caving partner with a nervous smile, not sure if sheā€™s teasing me or genuinely didnā€™t get the memo. Weā€™re hereā€”near the very back of the 60-foot-wide, quarter-mile-long main passage of Cottonwood Cave, in southern New Mexicoā€™s Guadalupe Mountains, getting ready to squeeze through a tiny hole in the groundā€”precisely because I want to conquer my fear.

ā€œIā€™ll be OK,ā€ I say.

I wasnā€™t always this way. As a kid, I explored crawl spaces underneath friendsā€™ houses and squeezed into corners of our attic for hide-and-seek. But about three years ago, while taking scuba lessons in the cold waters of Haigh Quarry, outside Chicago, that all changed. On the last dive of my certification class, thirty-something feet down in water so cloudy I could barely see my outstretched hand, I began to panic. Virtually blind and well aware that I couldnā€™t swim straight to the surface without skipping vital decompression stops, I felt trapped and helpless. It was the first time in my life that I experienced real and utter panic. Soon the mere thought of being stuck in tight placesā€”subways, elevators, cavesā€”was enough to make me break into a full-body sweat.

So when I set out to try and cure myself via eight weeks of cognitive therapy, I was more than a little apprehensive about the end goal of confronting tiny passages, in crushing darkness, located hundreds of feet underground. I consider myself an athletic guy; Iā€™ve done ultramarathons and months-long backpacking expeditions. But conditioning my mind was an entirely new challenge.Ģż

So I called , a high-performance-sports psychologist who worked with Felix Baumgartner ahead of his 2012 jump from the stratosphere. Gervais told me that I should make a spectrum list of panic-inducing situations ranging from one (sitting in the middle in the backseat of a car) to ten (getting trapped while deep-sea cave diving). Each day I sat in a quiet room, closed my eyes, and visualized myself in progressively scarier scenarios.Ģż

ā€œIn your imagination, you master level one. Then you put yourself in level two, and you master that,ā€ said Gervais. ā€œItā€™s a stepladder approach.ā€

Imagining, say, that I was standing in a crowded subway (level two) didnā€™t make me nervous, but as soon as I mentally placed myself back in the cloudy waters of Haigh Quarry (level seven), my heart rate began to rise. Sweat beaded on my forehead, I bounced my legs, and my mouth went dry.Ģż

Gervais told me to focus on the minutiae of the experience. ā€œWe can only have one new thought at a time,ā€ he explained. ā€œAnd that one thought could be, ā€˜Oh, my God, I need to get out of here.ā€™ Or it could be, ā€˜OK, Iā€™m now turning the nozzle, and then Iā€™ll grab the mouthpiece. OK, now I feel the rubber around my teeth and gums.ā€™ Those are all new and novel thoughts that are task-relevant.ā€

By the end of week eight, I felt prepared to try Cottonwood Cave. I lowered myself into the narrow void and focused on the dull rattling of loose rocks under my feet; the dewy smell of the stagnant, ancient air; the echoing drip of water in the unseeable distance. And an amazing thing happened: I wasnā€™t afraid. In fact, I was excited. By concentrating on the tangible elements of my experience, it became not just about worming myself into small spaces, but also an opportunity to experience a place that few ever have. I looked at my caving partner and crawled deeper.

ā€”°Ā±š²õĢż“³³Ü»å»å

Fuel with Failure

Just how well can an avid skier and cyclist do on the American Ninja Warrior Course?

The propeller looked impossibly far away. Ten feet in front of me, an eight-foot-long wooden wing spun slowly beneath a maze of metal scaffolding about 15 feet above a pool in a Las Vegas parking lot. Iā€™d just completed the first obstacle of NBCā€™s 2016 finals courseā€”five stepping stones that tilted on hinges as runners hopped across them. Now I was supposed to run across a platform, leap onto a small trampoline, and, in a fit of acrobatic grace I doubted I possessed, grab the prop with both arms. Assuming I avoided smashing my teeth against the wood, I then had to grab the rope dangling on the far side of the propeller and swing to a mat inconveniently angled above the water.

I had arrived in Las Vegas less than 24 hours earlier to try my luck on the course as a guest runner, after training for two months. Iā€™m usually on a bike or skis, neither of which hone the skills most critical to succeeding on big obstacle courses; American Ninja Warrior contestants are well-rounded athletes who combine agility, strength, coordination, and superb power-to-weight ratios. I may have quads of steel, but rapidly navigating increasingly difficult man-made obstacles requires a few additional abilities.Ģż

One is the grip of an elite climberā€”last yearā€™s champion, Isaac Caldiero, is among the first to free-solo the Present, a 5.14a route in Utah. Body control, balance, and mental toughness matter a lot, too. The first time I ran a Ninja Warriorā€“style course, at a facility called MROC in Oceanside, California, my brain was my biggest foe. Itā€™s tough to assess an obstacle without ever having touched itā€”and to ignore the consequences of a fall. ā€œYou need to believe that you can get it right on the first try,ā€ says stuntwoman Jessie Graff, one of the showā€™s top competitors.Ģż

To prepare, I had to develop a more robust arsenal of muscles and skills. I hit up the local climbing gym three times a week to build my upper body, strengthen my hands, and practice problem solving. I squeezed (orange-size balls with rubber finger loops) while procrastinating at my desk. I also signed up for , a fitness program based in Santa Fe that takes ā€œa holistic and mindful approach to the full range of natural human movement abilities.ā€ In practice that translated to a lot of rolling, swinging, and jumping via pull-up bars, balance beams, and exercise balls.Ģż

While my grip improved and I could bust out 100 respectable push-ups, I wasnā€™t feeling particularly ninja-like as I ran toward the propeller. I jumped onto the trampoline, reached for the blade, and missed it by a mile. My run was finished.

Looking like a drowned rat, I walked in shame down the Strip to my hotel. I told myself I could have gone farther if Iā€™d practiced more. But once I got home and resumed riding my bike, I realized that failing was beside the point. The training reminded me that agility, strength, and balance are the building blocks for athletic successā€”and I donā€™t have to be a ninja to appreciate that.

ā€”“”³ę¾±±šĢż±·²¹±¹²¹²õ

Go Beyond the Pain

Turns out the only way to get through a long-distance open-ocean swim is to embrace the suffering.

ā€œThat guy back there is in last place,ā€ said a race official, pointing just past me at another swimmer in the 10K in Grand Cayman. Thatā€™s when it sank inā€”I was going to miss the three-and-a-half-hour cutoff time.Ģż

I was nearly three hours into my first long-distance open-ocean race. My left shoulder was groaning with every stroke, and I had about 30 minutes to swim the remaining 1.2 miles.Ģż

Although I was a member of the swim team as a kid, I can count on one hand the number of times Iā€™ve swum for fitness in 30 years. Getting ready for a 6.2-mile raceā€”in just six weeksā€”seemed like an impossible goal, one that would truly test my bodyā€™s limits.Ģż

I immediately called Kevin Eslinger, an old friend who trains open-water swimmers in San Diego. ā€œIf you go about it smartly and really listen to the feedback your body is giving you,ā€ he said, ā€œyou can definitely do it.ā€

The first two weeks of training in the Intracoastal Waterway, near my home in North Carolina, had me swimming 20 to 30 minutes per session, four days a week, simply to get my joints and body accustomed to the repetitive motions. I felt tired and out of breath as soon as I hit the water, and that was before battling the horseflies constantly trying to enter my ears and nose. But after a few days, my freestyle stroke developed a rhythm. Sometimes I closed my eyes. Other times Iā€™d catch a glimpse of a pelican overhead. Once, a dolphin followed me closely for hundreds of yards.Ģż

With the third week of training came the volume. Every third session, I added an additional 15 to 20 minutes. By week six, I was swimming for nearly three hours straight.Ģż

I decided to warm up with a one-mile race held two days before the main event. I got swept up in the excitement of the mass start of nearly 1,000 swimmers, went out hardā€”and never slowed down. I finished 94th out of 931 with a time of 26 minutes 42 seconds. After, more than a little satisfied, I iced my shoulders, drank a beer, and told myself I was ready for the big race.Ģż

That seemed true at first. When the starting gun went off, I let the others sprint ahead. For me the 10K race was just about finishing before the aggressive 3.5-hour cutoff. (To put this in perspective, the cutoff for the 5K was 2.5 hours.)Ģż

About 40 minutes in, I was feeling good. The water was 85 degrees and crystal clear, and I felt confident enough to spend time watching stingrays glide by. But I swam past the fuel station on the first of four laps, a mistake that left me without a drink or energy gel for more than an hour. By lap three, my left shoulder was throbbing and I couldnā€™t find my higher gear. It was only when I heard the race official say I was almost dead last that my adrenaline finally kicked in. I started hammering and crossed the finish line just six minutes before the cutoff.

Totally winded and a little off-balance, I stumbled onto the sand and joined the crowd. Theyā€™d been waiting for me and the other slackers before beginning the raffle prize drawing. Standing in an oxygen-deprived fog, I thought I heard my name, so I hesitantly approached the stage only to learn that while Iā€™d nearly lost the race, Iā€™d won a roundĢżtrip ticket back to Grand Cayman in the raffle. A woman leaned in and said, ā€œI guess youā€™ll have to come back and race again next year.ā€Ģż

ā€”Mark Anders

The post We Made 6 Writers Learn Fitness Lessons the Hard Way appeared first on ŗŚĮĻ³Ō¹ĻĶų Online.

There was a time in my life when a beach cruiser was my only form of transport. I was living and surfing in Encinitas, California.ĢżThe bike was a black,Ģżrusted-outĢżsteelĢżSchwinnĢżfrom the ā€™80sĢżwith a board rack. It was heavy, slow, and creaked.

I loved that bikeĢżbut would have gladly taken the new Priority Coast instead. This cruiser, (and reachedĢżits goal almost immediately), is a rethink of the classic model with some important updates that should make any beachĢżdwellerā€™s life a good deal easier.

The most important change is a Gates Carbon Drive beltĢżinstead of a regular chain. Chains love to rust in sea air, and beach sand slowly eats them away. A belt drive suffers from neither of those problemsĢżand, if properly installed, should be maintenance-free for life. No regular lubing, and, thankfully, no more greasy pant legs (or chain-grease tattoos on your calf). As a bonus, the belt drive also makes for an uncommonly smooth pedal stroke.

Instead of a hand brake, which can be finicky as well,Ģżthe Coast uses a simpler coaster brake. Sealed cartridge bearings in the pedals, headset, front hub, and bottom bracket are designed to keep sand and sea salt from ruining other moving parts.ĢżComponentsĢżsuch as the spokes and bolts are made from stainless steel, which is also supposed to resist rust.

Priority claims the bike should be rust-free for life, but Iā€™ve parked it outside in Sloop Point, North Carolina, for two months and am already starting to see the first bits of rust on the axle nuts and some of the mounting hardware. ā€œStainless steelā€ is a relative term, of course, and we can probably chalk some of this up to the bike being a prototype. I will say that compared to other bikes, this one held up better than most. Ģż

Thanks to an aluminum frame and fork,Ģżthe bike weighs just 26 pounds, which might be heavy for a road bikeĢżbut is feathery compared to most clunkyĢżsteel cruisers. Geometry-wise, the ride is a bit uprightā€”more like a city bike than a laid-back, cold-beer-in-hand beach cruiser. This might help if you have a long way to pedal, but I like a longer wheelbase and a slightly more relaxed frame.

Thereā€™s only one frame choice, but an adjustable seat will work for riders from 5'0″ toĢż6'5″, with the sweet spot somewhere between 5'8″Ģżto 5'11″.ĢżThe pedals feel great under bare feet, and the cork grips are nice in the hand. The synthetic-leather saddle isnā€™t my favorite, but Priority tells me theyā€™ve upgraded that to a gel seat.

As a nice touch, the Coast is delivered mostly prebuilt. Priority provides the tools (crescent wrenches and Allen wrenches) and calls it a 15-minute assembly. Itā€™s fairly easy, but for the newbie, Iā€™d call it at least a two-beer job. The model I tested also came with a Carver Surf Racks Max Rack ($99 extra), capable of hauling everything from a fish to a longboard, with a built-in luggage rack for your wetsuit and towel.

Bottom line: IfĢżyou live near the beach, like to surf, and like to ride bikes, this is probably the nicest beach cruiser out there. The retail price ofĢż$450Ģżmight be a little steep, but you get high-quality components and reliability. And if you buy now on Kickstarter, the bike is only $370.

The post If You Live Near the Beach, You Need This Bike appeared first on ŗŚĮĻ³Ō¹ĻĶų Online.

Summer is here!ĢżTake advantage of sunny days and glassy watersĢżwith these three boards and other paddlingĢżstaples.

Naish Nalu Surf GS ($1,559)

Best For: A Bit of Everything

The classic shapeā€”rounded and wide, like an oversize surfboardā€”makes smooth and predictable in flatwater. You wonā€™t set any speed records, but the 31-inch width provides ample stability, and the 4.5-inch-thick fiberglass-and-EPS-foam sandwich (with wood reinforcement in the standing zone) offers plenty of flotation without feeling corky. In the waves, the Nalu stands out as a maneuverable cruiser. Itā€™s a true one-board quiver.Ģż

Starboard Elite Touring ($2,149)

Best For:Ģż°Õ“Ē³Ü°ł¾±²Ō²µ

The basic outline was borrowed from Starboardā€™s fastest sprint racer, so itā€™s no surprise that that tracks and glides beautifully. Itā€™s also stable, thanks to 30 inches of width and concave construction near the tail. But itā€™s still a touring board at heart, with bungee tie-downs for gear and smartly placed slots for attaching a rod holder or GPS. Nice: Australian pine tops the fiberglass laminate for added durability and style. 12'6″

SIC Air Glide X12.6 ($1,299)

Best For: Apartment Dwellers

Traveling with a 12-foot board or finding room for it at home can be a challenge. Thankfully, inflatable technology has taken a quantum leap. The fits easily your trunk and comes with a pack and an air pump, so you can lug it to mountain lakes. More importantly, it inflates to a rock-hard 20 psi and delivers a smooth, speedy ride in all kinds of conditions. At 30 inches wide and six inches thick, itā€™s super stableā€”even with a rowdy four-legged copilot. 12'6″

Kialoa Insanity Fiberglass Adjustable Paddle ($219)Ģż

Sharing with your spouse? Consider a telescoping option. The is significantly lighter (25 ounces) than many adjustables, and unlike others we tested, itā€™s supremely stiff, with zero wiggle while you paddle.Ģż

Xcel XLR8R O2 Performance Ventx Surf Shirt ($55)

Skip the tight-fitting rash guard for a more comfortable tee. ā€™s breathable Ventx moves with you, wicks sweat and water away from your skin, and blocks rays.

Smith Frontman Sunglasses ($209)Ģż

Take advantage of your elevated view with a pair of . These cut cornea-cooking glare and help you see whatā€™s swimming under your board.

Werner Paddles Soul M 1-Piece ($269)

Upgrade from your beginner paddle. Wernerā€™s is relatively light (just shy of 20 ounces), and the carbon-fiber shaft and durable fiberglass blade deliver a smooth stroke.

MTI Fluid 2.0 PFD ($135)Ģż

Unless youā€™re SUP surfing, the Coast Guard requires a personal flotation device on board. We like low-profile waist-belt inflatables like the . Pull the yellow toggle and a CO2 cylinder deploys it instantly.Ģż

Volcom Horizon Mod Boardshorts ($60)

Lightweight four-way stretch polyester moves well without too much cling. A side zip pocket stows keys and a snack.

The post 9 Essentials for Summer SUP appeared first on ŗŚĮĻ³Ō¹ĻĶų Online.

There are faster, prettier SUPs out there, but the ($1,199) is by far the yearā€™s most well-rounded. You wonā€™t find a finer board for the money. Though a heavyweight at 35 pounds, it excels in all conditions, from flatwater to wind-slammed cross-chop with boat wakes mixed in. The Saber is no speedster, but it paddles smoothly and has plenty of glide, stability (thanks to 31 inches of width and 4.8 inches of thickness), and deck space. The sandwich constructionā€”with a foam core and layers of fiberglass, epoxy, and wood for rigidityā€”is extremely durable. We had so much fun on it that we came to see the nineties styling as an endearing plus. 12'6″;

Stability: 5
Glide: 4

Ģż

The post Surftech Saber appeared first on ŗŚĮĻ³Ō¹ĻĶų Online.

Paddleboarding, in its modern incarnation, is only about ten years old. But in people years, thatā€™s more like 26. My point: SUP is maturing. It has graduated from college, fallen in and out of love, landed and quit a couple of jobs. Recently, thereā€™s been consolidation in the industry, with some manufacturers disappearing. You can find lots of SUPs on Craigslist. Meanwhile, innovation hasnā€™t slowed. Touring and racing boards are getting sleeker; surf-minded SUPs are getting shorter and wider. Designers continue to focus less on the sportā€™s wave-riding roots and more on day touring, fitness, and weekend racingā€”and our picks for the best new boards for 2015 reflect that attitude. Change is good.
ā€”Mark Anders

Surftech Saber

There are faster, prettier SUPs out there, but the Saber ($1,199) is by far the yearā€™s most well-rounded. Read the full Gear of the Year review.

Stability: 5
Glide: 4

Hobie EVA-Lution 11

Best For: Newbies.

The Test: It wasnā€™t so long ago that all SUPs looked like oversize surfboards. The ($1,199) carries on that legacy, but with good reason: the 31.5-inch-wide, five-inch-thick shape is ideal for tentative beginners and is as happy cruising on a glassy lake as it is surfing mellow waves. The EVA deck is padded nearly from nose to tail, providing lots of traction and a softer landing during wipeouts, as well as a suitable platform for yoga. Made from a foam core with bamboo, epoxy, and fiberglass-laminate overlays, the Hobie is supremely durable and, at just 25 pounds, impressively lightweight.

The Verdict: An affordable all-arounder and a perfect first SUP. 11′;

Stability: 4

Glide: 3

Earth SUP Biscayne

Best For: Day touring.

The Test: You could hang the ($2,200) on your wall as art, but thereā€™s purpose behind the beauty. To create a more eco-friendly board, Earth SUP tweaked the usual foam and fiberglass sandwich construction by adding fast-growing paulownia wood covered with flax-fiber cloth (plus some fiberglass). Instead of an EVA-foam deck pad on top thereā€™s cork, which made the Biscayne the most comfortable SUP our feet have ever touched. At 28 pounds, the board is relatively lightweight, and it has a distinctively quick and slippery feel on the water. It turns beautifully, though beginners will find it a little tippy. If in doubt, choose the wider 29-inch model.

The Verdict: Sleek and sexy, in an earthy kinda way. 12’6″;

Stability: 3

Glide: 4

SIC F-14 Wide-Glide

Best For: Sprinting comfortably.

The Test: This board borrows the superfast rocker shape of last yearā€™s SIC Bullet 14 V.2 SCCā€”a svelte racer and the 2014 Gear of the Year winnerā€”but boosts width to a nicely confidence–inspiring 30 inches and thickness to just over six inches to create a SUP thatā€™s exceedingly user-friendly without sacrificing acceleration and glide. While it’s perfect for day touring and fitness paddling, the ($2,399) is also a good choice for downwind runs. If you want to paddle fast but youā€™re not a racer (yet), this is your board.

The Verdict: An almost flawless SUPā€”and priced as such. 14′;

Stability: 5

Glide: 4

NRS ŗŚĮĻ³Ō¹ĻĶųr

Best For: Taking overseas.

The Test: Inflatable SUPs have gone from floppy, flaccid messes to bona fide alternatives to hard boards for travelers or the storage challenged. Like other elite members of the new school, the ($1,295) can be inflated to a rock-solid 15 psi, gaining remarkable rigidity and a surprising amount of glide. ā€œAs smooth as a classic longboard,ā€ said one tester. Unlike its peers, the 30.5-inch-wide, six-inch-thick ŗŚĮĻ³Ō¹ĻĶųr is designed for serious journeys, with stainless- steel D-rings that make it easy to rig up the nose for hauling gear on an overnighter. Bonus: interchangeable fins let you customize the configuration to match water conditions.

The Verdict: Impressively stout and mission-ready. 12’6″;

Stability: 4

Glide: 3

Boardworks Infinity Phoenix

Best For: Surfing.

The Test: Most serious SUP surfers are now riding sub-nine-foot models that look like oversize shortboards. Though theyā€™re highly maneuverable, balancing on them while you stand in the lineup waiting for waves can be tough. At 32 inches wide, the 8.5-foot ($1,199) takes a moderate approach: testers found it only slightly unstable until they got the hang of it. And as soon as they dropped into a wave, the Phoenix absolutely flew. Credit the extra-wide tail and mini-Simmons-style fins.

The Verdict: Plenty of get-up-and-go. So go surf! 7’6″, 8′, and 8’6″;

Stability: 2

Glide: 4

C4 Waterman Raptor

Best For: Anything you (and your friends) dare to paddle.

The Test: At 14 feet long, 60 inches wide, and eight inches thick, the ā€™s ($2,999) footprint approaches a Subaru Outbackā€™s, but deflated itā€™ll fit in your trunk. Topped off at ten psi (suggestion: get an electric compressor), the Raptor is ready forā€”well, what can you dream up? We had a hoot paddling it in flatwater with two big kids and surfed chest-high waves with three adults. Piloting the Raptor requires teamwork, but weā€™ve never had this much fun on a SUP.

The Verdict: Totally ridiculous and absolutely awesome. 14′;

Stability: 5

Glide: 3

The post The Best Stand-Up Paddleboards of 2015 appeared first on ŗŚĮĻ³Ō¹ĻĶų Online.

GET SITUATED: First, always keep your eyes on the horizon. Most people look at their feet when they stand-up, but that can throw you off balance. And this may seem totally obvious, but a lot of people hold their paddle facing the wrong way. Always make sure the scoop is facing away from you.

AVOID OVERPADDLING: Donā€™t stroke past your feet. When your elbow comes to your hip, bring the blade up out of the water. If your paddle passes your feet, youā€™re actually slowing yourself down.

THINK ABOUT TEMPO: Iā€™m on the high-cadence train. The faster I paddle, the higher the turnover, and the faster I go. For me, I have to rely on my fitness and do a faster cadence, but if youā€™re super strong, like Dave Kalama, you can get away with a slower, stronger stroke.Ģż

START FAST: For races, I usually go hard at the start and then settle into a comfortable rhythm. Donā€™t start slow, thinking youā€™re going to conserve energy for later, Ā­because at that point you wonā€™t be able to play catch-up. If other racers are ahead of you, even if itā€™s just three board lengths, it takes so much effort to reel them in.

NERD OUT: Iā€™m a bit of a geek when it comes to paddlingā€”I love using a GPS watch, like the ($450). It not only tells me how far and fast Iā€™m going, but itā€™s heart-rate-enabled, and I can create custom workouts.

The post 5 Stand-Up Paddleboarding Tips appeared first on ŗŚĮĻ³Ō¹ĻĶų Online.

Drowned

How do you save someone who's already dead? Rafa Ortiz, Rush Sturges, and Gerd Serrasolses found out.

The Rio TulijĆ” is a remote white-water river that snakes its way through the rainforest of southern Mexico. Often called Agua Azul because of its swimming-pool-blue color, it features a stunning stretch of five waterfalls ranging from 40 to 70 feet tall. This past March, a team of four world-class kayakersā€”Rafa Ortiz, 26, Rush Sturges, 28, Evan ā€œE.G.ā€ Garcia, 27, and Gerd Serrasolses, 24ā€”attempted to descend the falls as part of an expedition they were filming for a documentary. The previous day, they had become the first paddlers to drop all five waterfalls on the nearby RĆ­o Santo Domingo, arguably the steepest navigable section of whitewater on earth. The Agua Azul mission was to be their final day of filming:

RUSH STURGES: We were coming off the biggest descent of our lives and were tired and sore. I had two black eyes and a broken nose. We were really pushing ourselves to get this helicopter footage on the Agua Azul.

E.G.: We had driven six or seven hours in Rafaā€™s van, slept for like five hours, then woken up at about 6 a.m. The plan was to meet the heli in these flat pools about two-thirds of the way down to the big waterfall set.

RAFA ORTIZ: At the pools, I paddled upstream, away from the guys, to get in my zone, and Gerd kept practicing his hand rolls.

GERD SERRASOLSES: As soon as we saw the chopper, we all got fired up.

E.G.: We had scouted the hell out of the falls when we ran them a week earlier, so I knew exactly where I was going.

GERD: We had to pretty much go one after the other. I watched Evan drop over the lip, then Rush. I wasnā€™t too nervous. I had done it before and knew what I had to do. I went over and threw my paddle.

E.G.: I got out of my boat and was standing on a ledge about 25 feet from the base of the falls. I watched Rush come off. Gerd came next on a similar line, but he corked out and missed a few hand rolls.

GERD: I tried to roll up, but I wasnā€™t feeling any grab.

RUSH: E.G. and I were right there with throw bags, but I didnā€™t think it was that bad.

GERD: I tried to roll a few more times, then got pushed up against some rocks. I grabbed them, but my hands slipped and the water pushed me back down somewhere else.

RUSH: Gerdā€™s boat was full of water and spinning like crazy in this vortex of an eddy. Weā€™re not seeing him come up. Fifteen seconds go by. Twenty. Thirty. I was like, Dude, we gotta do something.

GERD: I kept fighting to get to the surface, but I couldnā€™t get there. I remember opening my eyes and saying, Fuck, Iā€™m running out of air.

RUSH: Heā€™s under for about a minute and a half, and weā€™re panicking. I clipped E.G.ā€™s rope into the back of my life jacket and went over to the spot where Gerd disappeared. I stuck my leg in the water and could feel it sucking down super hard, like a siphon. I didnā€™t want to go
in there.

E.G.: I looked downstream and suddenly saw Gerdā€™s yellow vest.

RUSH: He was facedown. It was the absolute worst-case scenario.

E.G.: I jumped into Rushā€™s kayak. No helmet, no skirt. I paddled like a bat out of hell in this heinously flat pool.

RUSH: Gerd was probably 100 yards downstream from us, and the next waterfall was coming up soon.

E.G.: Rafa actually ran the first waterfall while this whole thing was going on.

RAFA: At the bottom I looked around, and thereā€™s no one there. Then I see Gerd floating facedown and E.G. and Rush chasing him.

E.G.: When I pulled him up he was super heavyā€”like some weird Jell-O object. I was screaming and slapping his back, then started in on CPR. Rush and Rafa got there about 20 seconds later.

RAFA: Gerdā€™s eyes were open a little but not showing life, and he was a mixture of white, purple, and blackā€”the color you see in zombie movies.

RUSH: We were taking turns at CPR and slapping him in the face. It was a primal feeling, just the strongest desire to save a friend.

E.G.: I was yelling at him, ā€œCome on, Gerd! Fight!ā€ He was vomiting up some real nasty mucus and blood. Then we got the idea to pull off his life jacket, and we loosened the neck gasket on his drytop.

RAFA: For four minutes, we were doing CPR on a dead body. I donā€™t remember having much hope. But then he took a breath.

RUSH: His eyes literally lit up.

RAFA: Thatā€™s when I jumped up and started looking for the heli.

RUSH: The chopper hovered over the middle of the river. We carried Gerd to it, and Rafa jumped in with him. He was breathing a bit but still convulsing and coughing up water.

E.G.: After the chopper flew away, there was this weird quiet.

GERD: The next thing I remember is trying to wake up. I was hearing all these loud noisesā€”the chopper, screamingā€”but I couldnā€™t react, and I couldnā€™t see anything. Inside, I was screaming to try and regain power. And then I woke up in the hospital in Palenque. ā€”Mark Anders

Stuck

On a fall day in a Utah canyon, 25-year-old Robbie Tesar WAS nearly swallowed by quicksand.

It was late fall 2011, and I was three weeks into a course with the National Outdoor Leadership School in southeastern Utah, hiking with three other students along the Dirty Devil River. Around midday, we came to a point where the canyon wall met the river. A sandbank extended into the water, and I walked out on it with another guy. About 20 feet from shore, I suddenly sank knee deep. The other guy did, too, but only one foot. After 15 minutes of struggling, it was clear we were going to need some leverage. The two students on shore helped us rig a pulley so we could yank ourselves out. After about an hour, the other guy was able to slip out of his boot. He and one of the other two students went for help while the last one stayed with me.

It was about 65 degrees out when I first got stuck, and I was wearing cotton work pants and a long-sleeved wool shirt. When the sun went behind the canyon wall at around 3 p.m., it got cold, and I was wet. I put on a couple of jackets. The runners came back after not finding anyone, and we agreed to activate a personal locator beacon. They passed me warm food and hot water over the pulley. We built a raft using a sleeping pad and sticks so I could rest my upper body without sinking deeper. From my waist down I went mostly numb, though I kept my leg muscles moving.

A helicopter arrived at about 8 p.m. The plan was for me to build a harness with some webbing and tie it to one of the skids, then the chopper would take off while I held on to the skid. But when it started pulling, I didn't move. On the fourth try, I felt my back goĢżpop.ĢżI heard the pilot say over the radio, ā€œIf I try this again, I'm going to rip the kid in half.ā€

The helicopter left to get more help. When the rescuers got back, they passed me a backboard and a shovel, but I couldn't get any leverage to dig. Then ten guys got into rafts on either side of me. I held on to the sides while others dug. I finally broke free around 2 A.m. I was so elated that I tried to step into a raft and face-planted.

At the hospital, after they warmed me up, they wanted to give me a shower. I couldn't stand, so they said I could get help from either a guy named Jed or these two beautiful nurses. I hadn't bathed in 25 days. ā€œI'll take Jed,ā€ I said. ā€œI'm in no state to be showering with women.ā€ ā€”Joe Spring

Overboard

When 50-year-old South African surfer Brett Archibald fell from a chartered 72-foot motor-boat this past spring, during an overnight crossing from Sumatra to the Mentawai Islands, he was some 40 miles from the nearest shore.

April 17ā€”1:30 A.M.
I woke up feeling sick and went to the head and immediately started exploding out both endsā€”it was food poisoning. I went on deck to throw up and saw one of my mates, who was also sick. I went and told the captain, then went back outside. Thatā€™s the last thing I remember until I came to in the ocean and saw the boat about 200 feet from me, sailing away. I must have fallen over the railing. I screamed, but I knew it was futile.

April 17ā€”3 A.M.
I decided I had two choices: live or die. I chose to live. I immediately started focusing on getting my heart rate down, using breathing and meditation. Thankfully, the water was about 82 degrees.Ģż

April 17ā€”2:30 P.M.
I knew the guys would look for me. And that afternoon, as a storm was lashing, the boat came along. It was within 350 feet, but because of the rain my mates couldnā€™t see me. I screamed and swam toward them, but the current dragged me sideways. The boat stopped, and I thought they saw me, but a minute later they sailed away. That was a meltdown moment. I thought, Thatā€™s it, Iā€™m done.

April 17ā€”Sunset
Something hit me on my left side. Fish had been nibbling at the back of my leg, so I was bleeding. Then it hit again, harder. I wanted to see what it was, so I swam under-water and looked right at a blacktip reef shark about my size. I thought, At least it will be quick. Then I realized, Wait, itā€™s a reef shark. If he attacks me, Iā€™ll shove my arm down its mouth and have it drag me into a reef. Then it was gone.

April 18ā€”7 A.M.
A fishing boat sailed straight at me. But it must have reached some coordinate, because it turned sharply and sailed away. Right then I thought, I canā€™t do this anymore. Before the trip, my wife had read me a story about drowning being a beautiful way to die. I tried to suck down some water, but it didnā€™t work. So I went about six feet under and breathed. It was actually quite easy. The water came in through my mouth and out my nose. Then my brain went, What the hell are you doing? and I came up like I had an engine. While I was sputtering at the surface, I saw a cross coming at meā€”a mast. I put my head down and swam while counting to 1,000. When I looked up, I saw four spotters on the roof of the boat. I screamed. They couldnā€™t see me, but they could hear me. They eventually located me with binoculars. Iā€™d never been so happy to see a boat in my entire lifeā€”even if it was full of Aussies! ā€”Ben Marcus

Falling

One bad decision sends northern California skydiver Craig Stapletoon toward a crushing impact

My skydive teammate Katie and I had planned a formation for a jump last March where we would float a giant U.S. flag between our two flying parachutes. I had done about 7,000 jumps and competed in six world meets and probably 14 nationals. Iā€™m also the safety adviser for my local drop zone here in Lodi. Katie looked at me as we were getting on the plane and said, ā€œI donā€™t have a knife. Is that a problem?ā€ I took mine from my chest pouch and handed it to her. In 25 years, I had never needed one. Plus, I had a backup attached to my leg.

We started our trick at 6,000 feet. Katie placed her parachute just below me, so I could put my feet in the lines. I passed one end of the lanyard weā€™d use to hold the flag down to her, and she clipped in. At that point, we were supposed to move away from each other horizontally, but we ended up moving apart vertically, and I got jolted so hard when the lanyard straightened out that I was flung forward and upside down. My right ankle got caught in one of my lines, and my chute inverted, then circled around itself and knotted. The lanyard was around my neck.

At about 4,800 feet, Katie released her end of the lanyard, setting me free, then I pulled the handle to release my main parachute, but only the left side came off. I was spinning so wildly, I couldnā€™t grab the knife from my leg. At 1,800 feet, I fired my reserve parachute while tangled up, but the main parachute just started eating it as soon as it opened.

I was falling at 30 to 35 miles per hour. I looked down and saw vineyards. There were grape plants every four to five feet. Inside each one was an iron spike about six feet tall, and they were all strung together with fencing wire. I visualized the horrible things that were about to happen to me. I said goodbye to my wife and kids and apologized to them. I thought, Just relax as much as you can, roll with the impact, and exhale.

Next thing I know I was lying on the ground. Iā€™d landed between all the wires, in dirt that had just been plowed, so it was like really fine sand. Katie called 911, and the emergency crew came pretty rapidly. They cut my jumpsuit off and looked at me. I didnā€™t have internal bleeding, just a separated left shoulder, and my left side was really sore. The best news I heard was the fire chief canceling the helicopter.

My wife was signing into the security desk at the hospital when I walked out. All she wanted to do was give me a hug, but I was like, ā€œNo hug! I canā€™t take it!ā€ ā€”J.³§.

Shot

Two months into a planned source-to-sea expedition down the Amazon River, 24-year-old adventurer Davey du Plessis was in his kayak when the first shotgun blast hit his back.

I was having my best day tracking wildlife. Iā€™d seen a manatee, a river dolphin, and a couple of new birds. When two guys in their twenties motored past in a pirogue, I didnā€™t pay them much attention. Ten minutes later, something slammed into my back and knocked me into the water. My arms were frozen stiff. I didnā€™t know what was going on. I kicked to the surface but didnā€™t see anyone. Then something hit my face. I used my head to push my kayak to the riverbank. I sat down and got hit againā€”someone was shooting at me from the jungle. I looked down and saw a pool of blood. I thought, This is where you are going to die. I lay down and closed my eyes.

When I opened them moments later, I saw one of the guys in the pirogue motoring toward me. I stood up and put my hands together like I was praying. ā€œPlease leave me alone,ā€ I said, then kicked my kayak toward him. ā€œTake it.ā€ He just stared and headed upriver.

I ran. I got shot again, in the leg, but kept going. After five minutes, I saw two men on the opposite side of the river. I tried to yell, but nothing came outā€”the shots had damaged my neck and lungs. Eventually, they saw me and took me to their village, where everyone gathered around and whispered. I couldnā€™t feel the right side of my face or hear out of my right ear. My thoughts went all over. Then this old lady came up to me with a bucket of water and started cleaning the mud off my legs. That brought me back to the moment.

I asked to be taken downriver to a city called Pucallpa. The villagers made a wooden stretcher, wrapped me in blankets, and hauled me to a boat. A couple of hours later, we reached another village. It was night, and the only light came from torches and candles. The people there said to me,Ģżā€œPobre, pobreā€ā€”poor, poor. I took the blankets off and said, ā€œI have nothing to give you.ā€ After about an hour, I started to throw up blood. They put me in a different boat. Throughout the night, I was passed along like this, from village to village. Late the next morning, I saw port cranes over the top of the canopyā€”Pucallpa. At the hospital, I reached my mom by phone, and she helped me get a flight to Lima.

I had 22 pellets in my body and punctures in my lung and carotid artery. I still canā€™t feel the right side of my jaw. Initially, I thought my survival was a testament to my strength, but lately Iā€™ve realized it was because of the compassionate villagers who passed me down the river like a baton. ā€”J.³§.

The post Drowned appeared first on ŗŚĮĻ³Ō¹ĻĶų Online.

Firewire RapidFire Baked Potato

If ever there was a true small-wave performance board, this starchy vegetable is it. Extra wide with plenty of volume, the five-fin is designed to make the most of subpar conditions. The five-foot-nine model we tested paddled easily into thigh-high SoCal summer waves. And once up and riding, it showed surprising drive, and the diamond tail allowed for satisfyingly big turns. 5’1″ā€“6’3ā€.

Walden Magic Dually

Like a mullet, this longboard perfectly matches two opposing styles. The front two-thirds of the nine-foot-six we tested looks and rides like a traditional old-school log, and it proved perfect for walking the nose. But step back to the tail, which has the shape of a high-performance longboard, and you can make quick arcing turns on steeper waves. We had fun on the in everything from ankle biters to head-high beach break. 9’ā€“10′.

Lib Tech Bowl Surfboard

Pretty impressive debut: the , part of the snowboarding brandā€™s first line of surfboards, is one of the most durable surfboards weā€™ve ever tested. Itā€™s made from a lightweight composite instead of fiberglass, and the rails are wrapped in rubberized metallic fibers. We jumped up and down on a six-two thruster model on concrete and didnā€™t ding it! It also paddles well and comes alive in steep, chest-high beach break. While the board has lots of flex, which can suck drive out of turns, itā€™s also bombproof and ideal for moderate-to-big surf. 5’8″ā€“6’4″.

The post The Best Surfboards of 2013 appeared first on ŗŚĮĻ³Ō¹ĻĶų Online.

Bic Sport Wing Ace-Tec

Thatā€™s right, a made by the company that produces ballpoint pens and disposable razors. The Wing Ace-Tec is bombproof: a molded epoxy board with a thin thermoformed shell makes it more durable than most boards on the market. And yet itā€™s relatively lightweight at 34 pounds. A displacement hull with a flat midsection makes for a speedy, raceworthy ride that cuts through chop. At 30 inches wide and over six inches thick, the Wing Ace-Tec is stable but wonā€™t feel like a dog to seasoned paddlers. In short: a practical, durable, affordable, fun-to-paddle SUP. 12’6″ ()

STABILITY: 4.5ā€…
GLIDE: 4.5

Tahoe SUP Rubicon

BEST FOR: Flatwater touring and overnight trips.

THE TEST: that make you feel immediately at home. Itā€™s 30 inches wide and 4.8 inches thick, so newbies will be comfortable from their first step onto this stable SUP. In our testing, it sliced through windblown chop and tracked well. Tie-down plugs on the bow and stern allowed for ample gear storage on a multi-day paddle. Constructed of epoxy with an EPS foam core, the Rubicon is plenty durable, though we were disappointed with the flimsy stock fin. (Upgrading to a stiffer one is easy enough.) Also, the small traction pad left little room for moving around on the deck. Still, weighing in at just under 30 pounds, the Rubicon is a solid touring board.

THE VERDICT: Predictable ride at a good price. 12′

STABILITY: 4ā€…
GLIDE: 4

Surftech Surf Music

BEST FOR: Surfing.

THE TEST: A couple years back, we reviewed a Surf Music SUP designed by legend Gerry Lopez. While it surfed relatively well, it was a little narrow and low volume for a non-pro to ride confidently in all conditions. So we were surprisingly stoked on the design of . At a coffee-table-stable width of 34 inches (six inches wider than the old one), it makes surfers of any level feel solid and sturdy in the lineup. And though it does take a fair bit of mojo to get the Surf Music up to speed and on a wave, once youā€™ve caught it the Surf Music has a loose and lively feel.

THE VERDICT: One of the easiest-surfing SUPs weā€™ve ever tested. 10′ (also available in 9′)

STABILITY: 4.5ā€…
GLIDE: 3

NSP Elements

BEST FOR: Budget-minded SUPers.

THE TEST: several boards that cost hundreds more. (Well-made SUPs usually run at least $1,200.) With a traditional surfboard shape, itā€™s plenty stable, with good float, and the planing hull picks up sufficient speed in calm water, though it wonā€™t cut through chop as well as longer displacement-hull boards. We surfed a 31-inch-wide, 4.3-inch-thick Elements in mellow, waist-high waves and it rode predictably, like a wide, fat longboard.

THE VERDICT: You probably wonā€™t win any surf contests on this basic SUP, but itā€™s a great choice for your first board. 10’2″ (also available in 10’6″ and 11′)

STABILITY: 3.5
GLIDE: 3

Hobie Tour Inflatable

BEST FOR: Travel, car trunks, small apartments.

THE TEST: From a performance standpoint, thereā€™s still no substitute for a traditional board. But inflatable SUPs are a good option when storage is an issue or if you donā€™t want to deal with a full-size board on a trip. This twelve-foot-six Hobie squishes inside a large backpack (37 pounds total) and can be inflated drum tight in about six minutes with the included pump. Though testers found the ride a bit bouncy, especially paddling upwind into chop (the nose slaps the water), the for an inflatable. Also, thanks to a pair of sturdy footplates embedded in the board, the ride was far superior to other, waterbed-like inflatables out there.

THE VERDICT: Show up and blow up! 12’6″ (also available in 10’6″)

STABILITY: 3.5 Ģż
GLIDE: 3.5

Boardworks Infinity Whiplash

BEST FOR: Racing.

THE TEST: This Boardworks model was named by one of the sportā€™s rising stars, Slater Trout. Testers noted excellent acceleration from the first strokes on the and appreciated how the slightly turned-down nose and displacement hull up front sliced through water. The back half of the bottom transitions from a displacement to a planing hull, which helps get the board up on plane quickly and keep its speed. At just 27 inches wide, the Whiplash is tippier than a touring board, but the deck is recessed somewhat, offering a slightly lower center of gravity and some stability. Our only complaint: sticker shock. You have to really care about speed to cough up more than two grand.

THE VERDICT: If you donā€™t win, you canā€™t blame your board. 14′

STABILITY: 3.5ā€…
GLIDE: 5

The post The 6 Best SUPs of 2013 appeared first on ŗŚĮĻ³Ō¹ĻĶų Online.

Pau Hana Crossfit

Though there are many larger, better-known SUP manufacturers, is quickly carving out a name for itself with fast, well-priced boards like the fitness and adventure-ready Crossfit. Made with a cocktail of bamboo, carbon fiber, and fiberglass, this SUP is both lightweight and very rigid. Itā€™s wider (28.5 inches) and more stable than most race-inspired touring boards, but just as fast. From battling chop in the ocean to burying miles on North Carolinaā€™s glassy Intracoastal Waterway, the sharp nose of the Crossfit sliced through the water, consistently offering up the glide of a more expensive full-carbon SUP. Add it all up and youā€™ve got a speedy enough board for those of you thinking about racing. Case in point: we loaned a friend the Crossfit for a last-minute race, and he won the rec division on his first session aboard it. 12’6″; 27 lbs

STABILITY: 4.5
SPEED/GLIDE: 4.5
MANEUVERABILITY: 3.5 (OUT OF 5)

Boardworks Badfish MCIT

BEST FOR: Whitewater paddling, the space-constrained, or frequent fliers. THE TEST: The inflatable SUPs weā€™ve tested in the past were as floppy as dead fishā€”and often just as much fun. Not so the , which deflates down to a large duffel-bag-size bundle. Designed to run whitewater rivers and surf standing waves, this inflatable, with military-grade rubber and three air chambers, was more rigid than any other we tried. Super-wide (35 inches) with a recessed deck framed by air-chamber rails, the Badfish is also uncommonly stable. Our only gripe: water pools in the sunken deck, which is fine in the flush of a river but annoying on flatwater. THE VERDICT: Finally, an inflatable SUP thatā€™s solid, durable, and entertaining. The Badfish is even a hoot in ocean surf. 9’/10’6″/11’6″, 27/30/33 lbs

STABILITY: 4
SPEED/GLIDE: 2.5
MANEUVERABILITY: 4

404 Monster 2.0

BEST FOR: Weekend-warrior racers and fitness paddlers. THE TEST: Designed by SUP racer Danny Ching, this 12’6″ foam-and-fiberglass board borrows high-performance race cues from the proā€™s own custom-built 404 Monster. At 28.5 inches wide and 4.6 inches thick, the is tippier than surfboard-style SUPs but plenty stable for a touring race board, especially once you build up momentum. Our testers fought over the 404 on long-distance sessions because of its speed and the way it plowed through chop and wind swells. THE VERDICT: A touring race board that gobbles up the miles. The carbon-fiber model ($2,675) offers more full-on speed. 12’6″; 27.5 lbs

STABILITY: 4
SPEED/GLIDE: 4.5
MANEUVERABILITY: 3

Naish Nalu

BEST FOR: Anything from surfing to a multi-day outing. THE TEST: While longer, touring-style boards are better for distance paddling, the beauty of shorter, wider surfboard-style shapes is their versatility. And the is one of the most versatile new SUPs out there. At 32 inches wide and nearly 4.5 inches thick, itā€™s as stable as any board but paddles with the glide of a bigger SUP. Credit the six deep channels running lengthwise along the boardā€™s bottom, which help funnel water and keep the board tracking straight. Despite those channels, the Nalu was surprisingly maneuverable and fun in the surf. THE VERDICT: A great all-rounder and close runner-up for Gear of the Year. 10’10”; 31 lbs

STABILITY: 4.5
SPEED/GLIDE: 4
MANEUVERABILITY: 4

Six deep channels (which look like ripples) on the base of the Nalu direct water from nose to tail. It lends the Nalu the speed and tracking of a board two feet longer.

Surftech Blacktip

BEST FOR: Beginners, families, and anyone on a budget. THE TEST: This entry-level board-and-paddle package is almost half the cost of most new boards alone. At 30 inches wide and a whopping five inches thick, the lightweight, soft-foam floats like crazy and provides confidence-inspiring stability. Itā€™s nice and stiff compared with other foamies, and the slick bottom was surprisingly smoothā€”but donā€™t expect much glide. Our testers said it was fine in flatwater and surprisingly adept in small beach breaks, though several complained about catching their feet on the oversize rail handles. Bonus: includes an ankle leash. THE VERDICT: Fine and user-friendly, but affordability is this boardā€™s true appeal. 10’6″; 30 lbs

STABILITY: 4
SPEED/GLIDE: 2.5
MANEUVERABILITY: 4

Dragonfly 13’6″ Fishing Edition

BEST FOR: Fishing and flatwater touring. THE TEST: As anglers realize how easy it is to sneak up on fish with SUPs, manufacturers have scrambled to retrofit their boards. But the fiberglass composite , developed by a former Orvis guide and a fishing-boat designer, was purpose-built for angling. Its hull has a sharp entry like a boat bow, which helps it slice through the water without startling fish (it doesnā€™t slap the surface as many boards do). Our testers also appreciated the V-shaped hull that kept the Dragonfly tracking. And though hardly lightweight, the boardā€™s fishing specifics (rod holder, fly basket, and pictured drybox/cooler) make up for the heft. THE VERDICT: Perfect for stalking bonefish in the flats. 13’6″; 45 lbs

STABILITY: 4.5
SPEED/GLIDE: 3.5
MANEUVERABILITY: 3.5

The post The 6 Best Stand-Up Paddleboards of Summer 2012 appeared first on ŗŚĮĻ³Ō¹ĻĶų Online.