For the Love of the Lake

We’ve been waiting for Lake Pals for a long time. We just didn’t know it yet.

I’m Joe Newman, and along with my wife and our nine kids, I’ve spent a pretty ridiculous amount of our lives at the lake. We’ve raised our kids on the water. We’ve taught them to swim, ski, surf, and, apparently, to wakeboard before they were old enough to know they were supposed to be afraid of it. One of our kids was wakeboarding at three years old. We’ve spent days at Lake Powell that turned into weeks, brought friends and family along for the ride, and even found ourselves at the lake on the birth due date of one of our children. We’ve experienced the lake at its absolute best—and worst, we've shared some of its less glamorous moments too. Broken boats. Bad weather. Sunburns. Long drives. Lost stuff. Too much stuff. Not enough hydration. And somehow, we always go back.

Because there is something about the lake.

It doesn't really matter which lake is yours. Maybe it’s Lake Powell, Lake Tahoe, Lake Norman in North Carolina, or a little stretch of water that doesn’t show up on most maps. If you love the lake, you know the feeling. It’s the smell of sunscreen mixed with gasoline. Wind in your hair. Sunshine dancing on the water and slowly turning your skin a little darker. Cold drinks, wet towels, sandy feet, boat engines, dock jumps, late-night conversations, and kids begging for one more run. The lake has a way of turning an ordinary summer day into a memory your family talks about for years.

And maybe that's why boating and lake life have been such a big part of raising our family. There aren't many places where everybody has to work together quite like you do on a boat. Somebody drives. Somebody spots the skier. Somebody working ropes. Somebody keeps track of the kids. Somebody forgot the sunscreen. Somebody brought enough food to feed an army. And somehow, somewhere between the laughter, the arguments, the adventures, and the inevitable mishaps, families become families. Friends become family too. That's what we've experienced over and over again—and it's what we want Lake Pals to celebrate.

Lake Pals isn't really about clothing. It's about belonging to a certain kind of people. People who would rather spend Saturday on the water than almost anywhere else. People who know that the lake isn't the ocean, and don't want it to be. It's boats and coves and cabins and docks. It's wakeboarding and fishing and tubing and swimming. It's the iconic moments that happen on the lake—the moments that become inside jokes, family traditions, and stories told around the campfire. We created Lake Pals because we wanted a brand that celebrated lake life.

And you can always spot a real Lake Pal. Even when they're nowhere near the water, there's probably a weather tab open on their phone. Maybe another tab checking the wind. And if they love Lake Powell, there's a good chance they've checked the Lake Powell water level lately, too. Because the truth is, even when we're not at the lake, our minds are there. We're checking the forecast, thinking about the next trip, remembering the last one, and wondering how soon we can get back.

That's Lake Pals.

It's for our family, for the friends who've spent countless lake days with us, and for anyone who has ever looked at a calendar and thought, How many days until we go back? It's for the people who understand that some of the best parts of life happen barefoot, sunburned, windblown, and surrounded by people you love.

For the love of the lake.

Welcome to Lake Pals.