Going upwind took me forever

It took me a whole year to ride upwind. On the North Sea. In cold water. In waves. With wind that sometimes felt like it had commitment issues.

Meanwhile, there were people around me cruising back and forth after a few weeks, looking suspiciously comfortable. I did the walk of shame so often that I could probably guide tourists along that stretch of beach.

And now, seven years later, I still have sessions where I think, I should be better than this.

So if you feel behind, slow, or stuck, this one is for you. Not every path in kitesurfing looks the same. And that is not a weakness, it is just reality with saltwater in it.

Learning on hard mode

Let’s set the scene properly.

North Sea. Waves. Chop on top of waves. Gusty 15 to 25 knots. Cold water that makes you question your life choices. An 11 meter kite. A 140 cm board. Soft shell harness. Big smile. Mild chaos.

Flat water lagoons are amazing. They are also not the North Sea.

When you learn in waves and chop, you are not just learning to ride upwind. You are learning to:

  • Control the kite in gusts

  • Edge through moving water

  • Time your power between waves

  • Stay balanced when the surface refuses to cooperate

Every tack is a mini survival mission at first. The water moves. The wind shifts. The board slaps. And your brain is busy with about twelve instructions at once.

In the beginning, I was doing everything at the same time. Steering too much. Thinking about my feet. Forgetting my hips. Reacting to every bump. It is not that I could not ride upwind. It is that my system was overloaded.

When you learn in those conditions, you are playing on advanced difficulty without realizing it.

When it finally clicked

There was no cinematic breakthrough moment. No dramatic coaching intervention.

It was more like this: once every tack, I suddenly felt it. The kite was stable. My body leaned properly against it. The board edged clean. The sea felt less like an enemy and more like a moving floor.

Then it disappeared again.

But those few seconds were enough. They proved it was possible. So I kept going.

Eventually, it was not one thing that changed. It was everything calming down. The kite stopped being a wild animal. My shoulders relaxed. I trusted the harness more. The board edged without panic.

And then one day, it all aligned. The kite, myself, the sea, the board. I was not fighting anymore. I was working with it.

Upwind is not about brute force. It is about alignment.

The sneaky gear mistake

And after quite some kiting I still sometimes feel like a beginner. Here is the part that makes me laugh and cringe at the same time.

For the past few months, my steering lines were too short. The kite backstalled quite a bit. I compensated by sheeting out weirdly and constantly correcting. I thought that was normal. 

It was not.

When I finally checked and adjusted my bar and lines, the difference was ridiculous. The kite flew easier. It sat forward in the window. It stopped choking itself every time I tried to hold power. So yeah, you never stop learning. 

If your kite feels heavy, stalls easily, or needs constant babysitting, check your setup before you blame yourself.

Quick checks that matter:

  • Lines equal length when tensioned

  • Kite not backstalling when bar is slightly sheeted in

  • Trim strap not fully pulled all the time

  • No excessive wear or stretch on steering lines

A small technical issue can feel like a massive skill gap. 

For a deeper dive into tuning basics and line behavior, you can check the Duotone Academy resources on kite setup and trimming. They break it down clearly without overcomplicating things.

Sometimes you are not “bad.” Your gear is just quietly sabotaging you.

Why you still feel basic

Now let’s fast forward seven years.

I can ride upwind. I can jump. I can handle waves. But I still feel basic sometimes.

Upwind still gives me trouble in certain conditions. My wave riding is not where I want it. My tricks are often the same. When I try something new, a lot of attempts end in crashes. From the beach, it probably looks fine. From inside my helmet, it feels underwhelming.

Here is the uncomfortable truth: your standard evolves faster than your skill.

When you start, riding 50 meters feels legendary. Later, you expect stylish carves, smooth transitions, controlled landings, and confident wave lines.

And if you are riding North Sea waves, that adds another layer. Wave riding in messy onshore or cross onshore conditions is not the same as a dreamy peeling point break.

Progress is not linear. It is chaotic, just like the sea itself.

Conditions shape your timeline

An 11 meter in 15 to 20 knots sounds reasonable on paper. Add chop and waves, and it becomes more technical.

Choppy water reduces edge efficiency. Waves disturb your line. Gusts make your kite surge forward or stall unexpectedly.

In flat water, you can focus purely on technique. In the North Sea, you are constantly adapting.

So if your progression feels slower than someone who learned in butter flat 18 knots every day, that comparison is flawed from the start.

Also, cold water matters. Stiffer muscles. More tension. Less relaxation. And relaxation is key for edging and holding a clean upwind line.

The environment is part of your progression story. Not just your talent. But I'm still really glad I learned in harder conditions because nothing scares me now…

The loop of comparison

One of the most toxic thoughts in kitesurfing is this: I have been riding for X years, I should be at Y level.

But who decided Y?

If you ride waves and chop, experiment with gear, crash trying new tricks, and still genuinely love it, that is progression too.

There is a great reminder in this post about whether kitesurfing is hard. It is hard if you chase perfection. It is amazing if you chase engagement with the process.

The riders who look effortless did not skip the messy phase. They just had different conditions, different coaching, or different starting points.

Your timeline is shaped by your spot, your gear, your personality, and your willingness to keep going.

How to move forward

If I could talk to my one year struggling upwind self, I would say this:

  1. Focus on systems, not ego.

  2. One session, focus purely on kite stability. Next session, focus on hips forward and clean edge. Another session, focus on wave timing instead of trick attempts.

  3. Check your gear regularly. Do not let a stretched line define your skill level.

  4. Also, accept that crashes are part of the upgrade. If most of your new trick attempts end in crashes, that means you are actually pushing.

The fact that you still love it, despite feeling basic sometimes, is a better indicator of long term progression than any trick list.

One last tack before you judge

It took me a year to ride upwind. In waves. In cold water. In gusty North Sea wind.

Seven years later, I still have messy sessions. I still question my level. I still crash trying new things.

But I also know this: not every path looks the same. Some riders glide through perfect lagoons. Others grind through chop and build resilience.

If you are in the grind phase, keep going. That one clean tack per session is not random. It is a preview of what is coming.

And if you still walk up the beach sometimes, just tell people you are working on your cardio.

xox Berito

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