I didn’t grow up around the lake life, like Drew Wise, rising senior at the University of South Carolina. In fact, I’ve lucked into heading out on Lake Murray less than half a dozen times since taking up residence in the state of South Carolina. Where I come from, snow skiing is more common than water skiing, and “boarding” is an activity that takes place in the mountains, not on a lake. For Drew, however, the place for boarding is on the lake, towed behind a boat, buoyed by the powerful wake. After years of teaching friends how to stand up on a wakeboard for the first time, Drew turned his childhood hobby into a business, offering wakeboarding lessons to anyone brave enough to get dragged behind a 450-horse powered boat by a slim rope. According to the editor of this magazine, that would be me.

I had never attempted wakeboarding, and I had no idea if I was going to be successful, but I was hopeful. As Drew smoothly steered the white and silver 2024, Supra SE450 away from the dock, I grew nervous, which is a bit uncharacteristic for me. I’ve taken the wheel of a four-seater Cessna aircraft mid-flight. I’ve soared high above fields in a powered paraglider in the name of “research” for Newberry and Chapin Magazines, but, this? This felt different. What if I couldn’t figure it out? How would I be able to write about it?

Since I had little experience with watersports, Drew kindly offered to show me what wakeboarding looked like before I made any attempts. He stepped into boots connected to a wakeboard, pulled the straps tight, and gracefully hopped off the back of the boat. Within what seemed like seconds, the tow rope tightened, he motioned to the driver that he was ready, and Drew was upright, gliding and carving through the water. He arced wide from the boat and then cut back, using the steep edge of the wake to pop into the air before effortlessly landing on the other side. Frankly, seeing him didn’t make wakeboarding seem any easier, but it did showcase Drew’s expertise. What did occur to me, however, was that wakeboarding actually looked impossible.

It was my turn to step into his shoes, literally. Before I strapped in, Drew helped me get fitted into a helmet, which seemed like a prudent piece of safety equipment for a first timer. He had a trick up his...well, hat. A small radio with mic and speaker were attached to the helmet, with the connected radio fitted into a hat that he wore. After a quick test, instead of struggling to hear instructions yelled over the roar of a boat motor and rushing lake water, I had his expert coaching right in my ear.

Sometimes the voice in your head is telling you exactly what you need to hear.

I (much less gracefully than Drew) flopped into the water with the board on my feet, awkwardly swam out, turned myself belly-up, and assumed the proper position with my knees to my chest and arms outstretched. Drew checked that I was ready, and after a few deep breaths, we made our first attempt. The power on the tow line felt like God Himself was trying to rip the grip bar from my hands, and I was acutely aware of how much force was acting upon my body. Drew’s voice in my ear helped me stay calm for a few seconds, but I quickly let go. Drew immediately made sure I hadn’t swallowed any water and then explained why my legs had turned into those of a samba class on their own accord. Instinctively, I had tried to pull the tow bar closer–the exact opposite of what he had told me to do. As it turns out, people are predictable, and he’s watched enough newbies wakeboard to know what tendencies trip up first timers.

Drew reiterated the cues to focus on: keep the legs bent, keep the arms straight, and let the boat do the work. With the following two attempts, I made it incrementally closer to standing before healthy splashes ended my efforts. Drew continued to encourage me and insisted that I was “this close” to getting up. With my forearms begging for relief, I grabbed ahold of the bar again and nodded that I was ready. I repeated “knees bent, arms straight,” like both a mantra and a prayer as I began to inch upright. The force of an entire boat reiterated the meaning of the word ‘drag’ as the lake water clung to hold me back. I thought about letting go again, but suddenly, I was on my feet; the lake passing by in a blur underneath me as the drag of the water fell away.

Madison quickly learns that grace is irrelevant when victory is involved.

I soared over the rushing wake amid the cheers of Drew on the mic and the rest of the wakeboarding party. So, this was wakeboarding! I felt airborne, untouchable, and exhilarated, my heart thumping as every muscle in my body worked to maintain the position. With a few coaching corrections (“chest up!”) I better understood how he made it look so easy. It was almost meditative, the balance between the force of wind, water, and gravity, as my view blurred from the speed. I’m fairly certain that all Drew could hear on his side of the radio was joyful laughter and my shout, “this is so sick!”

In that instant, I really understood it. I got why Drew and people like him want to spend so much time on the lake with this niche hobby, and why Drew wanted to teach every single person he could how to experience that magical rush. Sure, I’ve steered a puddle-jumper plane, and I’ve also floated through the sky under the fabric wing of a paraglider, but wakeboarding felt more like flying than anything I’ve ever done.