Winter hit hard here the last few days. Took me totally by surprise. I’m out of sync. It seems like just weeks ago we were at 14,000 feet on Denali, hunkered like trolls under a snowstorm, obsessing on just what day would be THE weather window for a summit ski descent.
That kind of trip is so all consuming, so committing, you get back home and sometimes the reentry is hard. If you’re at all introspective, you find yourself re-evaluating what you do and how you do it. That’s been the story of my summer and fall: lots of introspection, evaluation, taking stock of things.
Blogging in particular.
Back in 2005 I converted this website to a blog, and it’s been a roller coaster ride ever since–a wild journey that’s been unlike anything else I’ve experienced over my more than half century of life.
The long and sometimes strange trip has included being privy to industry debacles that could change the bottom line of whole companies. Sometimes I’d be sworn to secrecy, other times going public didn’t seem appropriate as opposed to letting business take its natural course. Still other times we did go Richter, such as when we covered the Dynafit Tri-Step binding flop or the Salomon Quest tech fittings debacle.
Along with that, becoming what PR folks call an “opinion leader” in the sport I love has also been a crazy journey. Yeah, such status has included a bunch of interesting travel and allowed me to have a stint as a “pro” blogger thanks to our advertisers. But where do I go with that? Do I start waving a magic ski pole around, pointing at things and thoughtlessly saying “this is it,” or “this is not?” If I ever do that, or have done it, I’m an idiot or at least temporarily insane, so put me out of my misery.
The original concept for a web log, which came to be known as a blog, was a running journal of a life. That soon evolved to a running journal about any subject — it didn’t have to be personal. Still, the personal ones are where the magic can happen.
It was easy going more personal while mentoring my son in the mountaineering arts, and it’s easy to wax philosophical when on the road or doing something new and different. But getting that stuff out of the day-to-day grind is harder.
Take today. My agenda is this. First, move snowmobile out of yard in position for loading. Next, figure out some way to get the toilet tank in the camper emptied without loading the camper and hauling it all the way down to the nearest dump station (amazingly enough, Carbondale sanitation district doesn’t provide a dump station.) After that, move Jeep out of workshop and store for winter under tarp in yard. Oh, and that binding mount is waiting on the bench. Then get those office hours in, doing paperwork and WildSnow backend projects.
Meanwhile, my wife is headed to work. Her job is hard. So, while the day fills up I’m trying to think of what I can do to be nice and make her day easier. I frequently mess up on this task. Problem is I forget that simple things like keeping the house tidy or repairing something are gold coin of the matrimonial empire. Most married guys know what I’m talking about. But theory is one thing, practice quite another.
I do know this: My wife’s support is a big reason (and probably the main reason) you can sift through more than 2,000 WildSnow blog posts.
So today, on top of shuffling all the toys around, I’ll fix the fence. Then tomorrow, I might go skiing and blog about it.