I went to Lake Havasu twice this year for boat races. Once in April for Desert Storm. If you’d like another angle on the same roar-and-glitter weekend, check out this Lake Havasu race recap that broke down every pass and prop wash. Then back in October for the IJSBA World Finals for jet skis. Different vibes. Same big grin. My heart still thumps when I think about those starts. Not sure which discipline will grab you the hardest? This straight-shooting comparison of five racing styles weighs the pros, cons, and splashes of each.
You know what? I don’t even love crowds. But this crowd felt fun, not messy. It’s sun, noise, and shiny boats. It’s kids with snow cones and dads pointing at engines. It’s the London Bridge right there, like a postcard, but with thunder on the water.
The scene, up close
I watched the Desert Storm Shootout from Rotary Park with my cheap camp chair and a soft cooler. The air smelled like sunscreen and fuel. Big cats and vee-hulls ripped across Thompson Bay. Some ran well over 150 mph. I felt the rumble in my chest, like bass at a concert. I wore 3M foam earplugs because, honestly, it’s loud. Good loud. But still loud.
Curious about dates, maps, or how to register? The official Desert Storm event page keeps an updated rundown of everything from the street party to the Shootout.
If you want to see how these high-octane catamarans perform on the international stage, spend a minute browsing the race clips on XCAT Racing.
The day before, I walked the Desert Storm street party on McCulloch. Boats lined the street like candy. I put my hand on a slick 48-foot cat with twin Mercury Racing motors. The gelcoat felt warm from the sun. A little boy next to me said, “That one looks like a shark.” He wasn’t wrong.
October felt different. I sat on the sandy berm at Crazy Horse Campgrounds for the IJSBA World Finals. Jet skis blasted off the line, hit the first turn, and threw a wall of spray. The announcer called out passes, and the crowd yelled like we all knew the riders. We didn’t. But it felt like we did. Vendor row had Yamaha, Sea-Doo, and parts folks like Hydro-Turf and Jettrim. I grabbed a lemon ice and got sand in my shoes. Worth it.
Planning ahead? The IJSBA’s 2025 World Finals overview already lists tentative schedules, classes, and travel tips so you can lock in your Havasu plans early.
Where I watched (and why it worked)
- Rotary Park beach: Wide view of Thompson Bay for the shootout. I arrived by 8 a.m. to snag space.
- London Bridge Beach: Easy for families. Restrooms. Shade if you hug the trees.
- The channel wall near the bridge: Boats parade by all day. Sheriff boats keep it calm there.
- Crazy Horse berm: Best for the World Finals. Bring a hat. The sun doesn’t play around.
I also checked out Windsor Beach at the state park. Parking is smoother there, but there’s a fee. Site Six launch ramp is free, but it’s jammed. Folks get testy when they’re backing trailers. I just waved, smiled, and kept my toes clear.
The best parts
- The sound: Deep, sharp, and a little scary in a fun way.
- The people: Boat folks share tips, snacks, and shade like neighbors.
- The water color: That bright blue-green. It feels fake, but it’s not.
- The pacing: Fast bursts, then calm, then fast again. You can breathe, then cheer.
- Sunset: Pink sky over the bridge with boats heading in. Picture time.
I grabbed lunch at Barley Brothers near the bridge. Good burger. Cold iced tea. And yes, I watched a huge catamaran idle by while I ate. Felt like a movie.
The not-so-great parts
I’m going to tell the truth. It’s hot. April was warm, and October was sneaky hot. My phone even gave me a heat warning one day. While I waited for the alert to clear, I killed a few minutes laughing at some cheeky texting humor over at these sexting memes that deliver the kind of quick, scrollable laughs you can throw into the group chat when the race schedule stalls. Also, afternoon wind hits the lake and chops it up. The gusts aren’t quite Sheboygan-level, but reading about a windy, grin-soaked weekend of racing on Lake Michigan reminded me that chop can crank the adrenaline as much as horsepower. The water gets bouncy, so small boats slap hard. Parking near the bridge fills up fast. And gas at the marina made my card sigh.
One more thing. The noise is fun, but it lingers. My ears rang after Desert Storm day one. Day two, I wore earplugs the whole time and felt fine. Lesson learned.
What I brought that actually helped
- Foam earplugs (3M). Cheap, easy, saved my ears.
- SPF 50 sunscreen and a big hat. I reapplied every two hours. No hero moves.
- A small dry bag for my phone and keys.
- A light camp chair and a thin towel for the sand.
- A Yeti-style bottle filled with ice water. I refilled whenever I could.
I know it sounds like a lot. But I used every single thing.
After all that gear schlepping, my shoulders were toast by the drive home. If you ever tack a Midwestern road trip onto your racing season, the crowd-sourced intel over at Rubmaps Carbondale can point you toward massage spots with honest reviews, hours, and pricing so you roll into your next stop loosened up instead of locked up.
Timing and small tricks I wish I knew sooner
- Go early. Mornings are calmer. Better parking. Better mood.
- Spring winds show up after lunch. Plan shots and swims before noon.
- Desert Storm is in late April. The IJSBA World Finals land in October.
- Bring cash. Some food stands did cards, some didn’t.
- Park at the state park or London Bridge Beach and walk along the water. It’s pretty.
- Be nice to the ramp crews and the sheriff boats. They keep it safe for everyone.
One real moment I can’t shake
A bright orange cat shot past the buoy line during the shootout, and the bay fell silent for a second. Then the speed hit me like a push on the chest. I looked over, and a grandma in a sun visor whispered, “Mercy.” We smiled at each other like old friends. Weird how fast joy spreads.
During the World Finals, a rider fell in the first turn. He popped up, waved, climbed back on, and still finished. The crowd cheered louder than for the winner. I got chills. I don’t know why that got me, but it did.
Food, shade, and tiny comforts
Between heats, I shared fries with my nephew at the patio by the bridge. We watched paddleboarders slip through the channel while race boats idled out. It’s a small thing, but that little break kept us happy. Shade plus salt plus water equals fewer meltdowns. That’s math I can use.
Final take
Would I go again? Yep. With earplugs, a hat, and plenty of water. Boat racing at Lake Havasu is bright and loud and a little wild. It feels big, but it still feels local. I went for the speed, sure. But I stayed for the people, the color of the lake, and that sweet hush right before the start. That moment hooks you. It hooked me.