Paddleboarding is basically walking on water without sinking immediately—and yes, it’s as impressive as it sounds. You get a full-body workout, pretend you’re a young, serene yogi, and occasionally faceplant for dramatic effect, reminding me that I am fat and old!
It’s peaceful when you want it, social when you want it, and gives you a legitimate excuse to fall in, splash like a kid, and call it “part of the experience.” Honestly, it’s the perfect mix of exercise, adventure, and low-key humiliation—basically everything life should be.
Behold the legendary paddle of Bacalar, Mexico—borrowed from a friend’s Airbnb empire of water fun. One glide across those turquoise waters and suddenly “amazing” doesn’t even begin to cover it. Truly unforgettable.
Here is the flight path from home in Phoenix, AZ, to Bacalar, Mexico.
It is best to fly into Cancun or Chetumal and take the ADO shuttle bus to Bacalar.
I first hopped on a paddleboard in 2010 after moving from Georgia to Mooresville, NC, chasing that sweet Aloha-on-the-water vibe I’d always loved about Hawaii. With Lake Norman just five minutes away, my board and boat became my weekly ritual in “the massive calm cove”—perfect for workouts. It was like pretending I was already on island time, living a young better looking and in shape lifestyle.
I lived five minutes away from Lake Norman and kept my boat docked there with my paddleboard. It was an amazing workout in “the massive calm cove, and I would go a couple of times a week.
Fast forward to September 2015: my boat and two paddleboards were packed and ready for the epic trek from NC to AZ—because why leave your favorite toys behind?
It took me four long days of driving from NC to AZ.
I dropped the boat off at storage, and sadly, that is where it stayed the majority of its years before selling it in 2022.
It still looked so amazing for a 20-year-old boat and still trimmed out at 50+ M/PH when it sold. 
I should have pulled my UTV to AZ instead of my boat; I sold the wrong toy before I moved!
A UTV would have gotten so much more use in the AZ mountains and/or making it street legal!
Let it go, Darrell, let it go! 
Well, I did let them go and lost my ass on both of them eventually!
Just in the wrong order! 
I knew East Mesa’s lakes were tiny, but I didn’t realize weekends meant waiting to launch, only to get spun around in a human-sized washing machine. Paddleboarding through the constant wake? Forget it—I kept falling.
After hauling my “Bring Out Another Thousand” money pit from NC to AZ, it barely saw the water at all. If you disagree, visit Lake Lanier or Lake Norman, where the coves are bigger than the lakes in AZ. Excuse de jour …
I preferred paddling the river because it involved exactly zero hassle. Toss the board on the Jeep, drive 20 minutes, and boom—adventure achieved.
You’d get a solid workout grinding upstream into the current, then enjoy the universally beloved reward: a free ride home provided by gravity and basic physics.
And let’s be honest—it didn’t hurt that the “commute back” involved cracking a beer, relaxing, and pretending this was all very intentional while the scenery did the work.
Passing the families of wild horses quietly from the water is always surreal—half nature documentary, half “is this real life or did I drink that beer too early?”
Kept one paddleboard at my place in Rocky Point, Mexico, and an inflatable in storage—because nothing says commitment like owning multiple versions of the same abandoned hobby.
I also used to paddle in a quiet ocean cove in Mexico, until the tides reminded me they do not care about my confidence or balance. That phase ended quickly.
Over the years, the boards slowly evolved into tasteful wall art of days gone by, joining my golf clubs and bikes from other eras when I was sure this was my thing.
Looking back, the best part was the ~$2K “404 race board” I had mounted on my condo wall in Mesa. I couldn’t paddle it properly, but as décor!?!
Flawless. Minimalist wannabe, very aspirational, trying to fool anyone who cared.
This blog was inspired by Rick Powers, his loved ones, and the AZ NoSnow paddle Family in Mesa, AZ.
It has been several years since I last saw Rick, but do not let his age fool you; he was an amazing paddler. He had hundreds of paddles and many races under his belt.
He didn’t turn up after his early morning paddle on August 17, 2025, and found his gear, but there was no sign of Rick. They found him on the afternoon of August 20th. There was so much emotion during the search for him!
He had been all over the news (<– click here for links) with his incredible story that touched so many people.
I will always remember Rick lapping me on the lake and being so pissed off at him as he was ten plus years older!
You were an absolute legend to the “older guys” trying not to hang it up. Ultimately, you helped put me into paddle retirement where I belonged, knowing you were uncatchable.
That will be a memory I will laugh about forever. 
Here are Ricks’ Strava statistics (<- click the link to access stats). If you are interested in how being an older athlete can still be badass, consider that his last paddle would have been his 950th entry on Strava!
Below were our last recorded long paddles, with mine being exactly seven years ago, the day they found Rick. Ironically. I was exhausted, I would never paddle alone again, and hung it up soon after.
Unlike Rick, I was just not good enough, and he belonged on the water! 
Paddle for your life was my thought that day, as I did not have much left in the tank the last couple of miles.
During my longest paddle on the same Saguaro Lake, I fell on my way home, which is marked 
on the map above. I got turned around and paddled further into the cove. I thought I was headed home, but was going the wrong direction, making my paddle home further.
I should never have paddled alone was my takeaway that day …