Brandon Scheid pushes off on an adventure to see if he can score a once-in-a-lifetime session at a never-been-ridden spot in his own backyard. Read Brandon’s story to find out of journeying beyond his local kite beach pays off.

A tale of diving into the unknown, finding adventure and treasure and discovering that sometimes, some of the best spots are right under your nose, you just need to go out there and discover them!

Kiteboarding is a hard sport. I don’t simply mean the rigorous physical demands, although those are quite taxing. What I am talking about is accessibility and dependence on conditions. To even go kiteboarding, we need smooth, consistent wind blowing over twelve knots. In addition, we need to have a body of water with a legal/safe launch. Then, depending on the temperature, we may need a plethora of neoprene and kite related accessories.

We can get to the beach and, if the wind doesn’t show up, we can’t even go kiteboarding. Therefore, it comes as no surprise that most kiteboarders continue to ride from the same spot time and time again. Not because of choice, but simply because it’s most likely to be windy there. Or, it’s safe and shallow, has a clean launch and is full of other kiters. It’s not the norm for the average kiter to venture away from the “kite beach” and risk it all for a session that could only maybe happen.

However, that is how every new, “epic” spot once was found. Someone, somewhere, risked a good session to hopefully, find a great one. Every magic sandbar, mystic point break, flat water lagoon, and tradewind-swept island was discovered by an intrepid adventurer. Not every search leads to a fantastic new spot, and take it from one adventurer to another, 99 out of 100 are a bust. When you do finally score though, it’s worth all the hard effort. Not only do you get to score an incredible session at a newly discovered super spot, but you also get the satisfaction of knowing you were the first.

There’s an indescribable feeling that comes from finding somewhere new. It adds a certain electricity to the session. Everyone seems more energetic and abuzz with excitement. It must have something to do with the fact that you and your friends are treated to something special, something you can never re-create at that particular spot. Close your eyes and imagine a session you had at a new beach/spot, that first ride always feels so magical, so new.

We can draw parallels from the surfing world, where the globe has been scoured for years looking for that next, perfect wave. It’s hard to imagine what the first surfer thought while watching a set wave roll through Cloudbreak, mind-surfing the pristine point break. (If you want to know the full Cloudbreak story check out “Barbarian Days: A Surfing Life” by William Finnegan).

However, we know one thing for sure, he would be filled with that same intoxifying electricity, from knowing he was the first, the holder of the secret, the true adventurer. I’ve come to see this quest for that magic feeling as, “Living the Search”. Simply put, it’s spending your time pushing into the unknown, searching for that stunning new location, that next epic session, even if it forces you to miss a good session at the regular old spot. This is the story of such a quest, one that left us all giddy with excitement, with our heads in the clouds.

It all started with a rumour, as many of these quests do. We heard a snippet of information, and some little detail in the story sparked my brain into turning. “Did you say you saw whitecaps on your hike?” “Was there really a small lagoon around the corner?” There’s always some spark that ignites the search, a catalyst. In this case, it was the desire to find new backgrounds and potential shooting locations in my hometown of Hood River.

Well known for strong wind and beautiful Pacific Northwest forests, the Gorge is a North American kiteboarding hotspot. Like most known wind sport places, 99% of all the riders go to one of three spots, the Event Site, Stevenson, or Rufus. This is reflected in the photos and videos that have come out of the area over the past decade, and it was something photographer Vincent Bergeron, and I wanted to change.

Vincent and I have spent several summers shooting along the Columbia River and felt we had exhausted most of the spots, even pioneering some places where no one had kited. But this year we were after the cream of the crop, that magic session in the unknown. Toward the end of Vincent’s stay in the NW, we heard a story about someone kiting up on a high alpine lake on Mt. Hood.

High up on the mountain, there are several lakes fed by the year-round glaciers that cap the mountain. So we began to narrow it down, Lost Lake is too sheltered, Hidden Lake and Mirror Lake are blocked from west wind, and Bull Run is the public watershed for Portland and therefore restricted. Finally, we settled on our un-named lake. It seemed to have decent wind exposure and is easily accessed by car.

We began the daily drives up to the lake to get our bearings, to figure out how to get in the water, and to decide if it could even work. On our second scouting trip, we ran into the camp host, who told us that the lake frequently has whitecaps and that there are no restrictions that would prevent us from going kiteboarding. Our minds began to run wild with fantasies about a magical session, and we talked the whole way home about how great it was going to be.

With our first few exploratory trips in the bag, we were pretty confident that this was the lake we had heard rumours about. Now, we just needed to wait for ideal conditions for riding and shooting: good wind and great light. Because these two things are hard to line up usually, even more so for this location, it took several tries to finally get the session we were dreaming about.

This summer was one of the driest on record, and wildfires were ravaging all across the Northwest. As we finally got the lake dialled, it was just our luck that the whole Columbia River Gorge was filled with smoke, ruining the visibility and scaring the shots we were aiming to create.

Luckily, we had a favourable wind set-up sinking in, and it was helping to blow the smoke out of the area. So plans were set, phone calls made, and the LFK crew descended on the high alpine lake. Being that Vince and I had scouted the area, we led the crew to the launch we had picked out, a short hike from the car. This was certainly made more difficult by the sheer amount of gear we had to tote: four hydrofoils, two kites each, food, beer, and plenty of warm clothes, not to mention all the camera gear and wetsuits.

It takes full commitment to the session to achieve great photos, so we were prepared to stay until dark to make sure we got what we set out for. Initially, it was a lot windier than expected, perfect for twin tipping. Jason and I started off on the new Hippy Sticks and my Echo, locking scenic shots from the shoreline with Vince. The first time I turned around and started tacking towards the peak of Mt. Hood I was blown away by the scenic quality of the location. A giant snow-capped mountain with Pacific NW forested foreground and crystal clear fresh water, it was the stuff of dreams. I was just blown away by the beauty; I was praying that Vince was able to capture what my eyes were seeing.

As the day drew out, the wind began to fade, making it ideal for an evening hydrofoil session. With the efficiency of the foil, we were able to fully explore the nooks and crannies of the lake. I couldn’t figure out how it was windy. We were surrounded by big, forested hills. It made no sense to me. It didn’t matter what I thought though, as it was windy. We were awestruck by the beauty and the fact that the session was actually happening. Our hunches were right; there was something to be found outside of the Columbia River here in Oregon.

As the wind faded out with the light, we all landed our kites on our tiny launch and began the pack up. I’ve never seen such authentic enthusiasm from my boss, Gary Siskar. He was over the moon about the session and was already planning his next ten trips up to the lake. His mind was running away with fantasies for future sessions, and we couldn’t help but throw fuel on the fire. It was that buzz we were looking for, one that only The Search can provide.

We couldn’t believe it all worked, and we were bonded by our experience, one that we continue to reminisce about months after the fact. Every time I look through the photos, I am teleported back to that summer day high up on Mt. Hood. It’s cemented in my memory along with all the other amazing sessions I’ve had thanks to the desire to push further, to see what is just around the next corner.

I want to encourage everyone to take some time to live The Search, push outside the norm, and explore more. Think of all the amazing spots that have yet to be discovered. Ride to the other side of your beach, do a long downwinder or, better yet, find a new beach. Take the time to turn down that long dirt road. You never know what you might find. Think about this: the REAL Slick, one of the best flatwater spots in the world, was discovered by sheer accident.

Trip Forman, Ty Luckett, and a few other kiteboarding pioneers took off on an uncharted downwinder and ended up finding the perfect little island that acts as a wind barrier, forming the REAL Slick. With a little sense of adventure and some geographical research, you too can find the spot of your dreams. While it might not be a tropical beach or a perfect wave and the water may not be jello blue, it will be yours to share with whomever you’d like.

You too can experience the great exhilaration that so many have had over the years. So, venture off into the unknown and explore.

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Liquid Force Hydrofoils
By Brandon Scheid

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