I’ve ridden the razor‑thin edges of supercell updrafts that snap like a whip, and I’ve wrestled with mountain wave bores that roll over peaks like rolling thunder. The ocean’s great storms feel like the sky’s first test – massive, unrelenting, but they’re slower, more predictable, and they give you a chance to read the wind. In the air you get the instant feedback, the micro‑changes that can turn a clean climb into a sudden dive in a heartbeat. It’s that razor‑sharp immediacy that keeps my pulse racing; the sea’s roar is thrilling, but the sky’s breath is the true frontier.