Hey y'all,
Over the past few years, I've had a couple of friends send out semi-regular emails letting me know what they've been up to (shout out to Justin & Laura) and I've really enjoyed it. No fighting Facebook algorithms to find their posts or notifications popping up on my phone — just a nice letter from them in their own words. I also think there's something to be said about slowing down and writing longer-form pieces now and then. So here's me trying it out. I'm calling it Seasons of Kyle, and this first issue comes along with the fall equinox — or as most people know it — the end of summer.
The first time I set out to write this, I started off with a summary last few years of my life. A couple thousand words later, it was obviously way too long and boring to suffer through. so let's try a more condensed version:
Joined GitHub. Built some cool stuff. Saw a little company turn into a big company. Managed far too many people. Quit GitHub. Left San Francisco. Moved to Dunsmuir, CA. Learned to fly fish. Cared for my Dad. Learned a lot about patience and brain diseases. Got screwed by greedy executives. Got a dog. Bought an old high-elevation cattle ranch in the Sierras with a friend. Dug a lot of holes. Cleaned up a lot of mouse nests. Re-learned the value in digging a hole. Moved to South Lake Tahoe with Jessica. Snowboarded a ton. Did a bit of consulting. Bought a house in South Lake. Then GitHub got acquired and bunch of fake money suddenly turned into real money. And well, things changed.
Alia, Queen of Dunsmuir, Chaser of Snow, Best Doggo
That brings me to now. So I'll start with the biggest question I get: what do you do? I feel like this is usually a weird way of asking what kind of boss I'm trying to be or how I'm trying to turn my pile of money into a bigger pile of money. In other words: how is your life defined by capitalism and the pursuit of ever-more wealth? But that really isn't my jam. I've made enough off the GitHub thing and I don't have a desire to be the boss of anyone. That doesn't mean I've been vacationing 24/7 — it just means that I've been doing a lot of work that doesn't fall into the category of how most Americans think of work (aka making your boss richer).
The way I've been thinking about my life right now is through learning, building, and investing. In a major way, money has allowed me to re-think my life. It's really fucking weird, and I'm still getting used to it. For this first letter, I'm going to narrow it down to what I've been learning as of late.
After spending the past couple of decades learning different programming languages and software methodologies, I've gotten used to learning being a constant part of my life. If you're not always learning in software, you fall behind. But in the software world, none of this learning really lead toward mastery. Things are constantly changing, but software isn't exactly advancing. React today and jQuery yesterday, but in the end, developers are still building apps with the same level of interactivity and reliability as they've been doing for a decade. I think that's why my interests have shifted to more lasting skills. Stuff that I can learn today, use at any time in the future, and master throughout my life.
I've always been fascinated with the natural world, but I've become a lot more dedicated to the ways we can leverage natural forces to live a better life. As our climate changes, fresh water becomes more scarce, and our comfortable environment becomes more uncooperative, I think we're going to find ourselves more and more interested in the ways our planet works — because let's face it — our planet is far more powerful than we are.
Sunset at the ranch
A lot of my interest in this subject has really just been trying to understand to different people's perspectives. Whether you call it Permaculture, Regenerative Agriculture, Natural Farming, Fuels Reduction, Forest Improvement, Natural Building, or Appropriate Technology — I see it all as speaking to the same theme: How do we exist on this planet in a sustainable way? We all need food, water, and shelter. How do we get those things from an increasingly hostile environment without fucking over our future generations?
Practically speaking, I've spent the past few years getting better at identifying various plants, trees, pests, and diseases in the Sierras. I learned a lot of this from books and googling, but also from walking around with a few foresters around the ranch. The ranch is effectively a large piece of forest. It's been logged fairly traditionally — meaning maximizing for profit. That means high-grading (taking the largest trees) and replanting a monocrop Douglas Fir which leaves a fairly fragile forest susceptible to drought, disease, pests, and fire. One of my big goals over the next year is to work with a forester on some larger forest improvement projects out at the ranch.
Alpine / Tiger Lily, one of my favorite wildflowers at the ranch
Some of the more impactful things I've been into: Keyline design, Jean Pain style forest management & composting, Pond & Plug stream restoration, Oehler-style underground housing/greenhouses, or for more of a what if everything I learned in school was bullshit?, 1491.
Keyline Design at Ridgedale Permaculture in Sweeden. Pasture is divided into on-contour lanes, separated by trees and bushes.
Have you ever noticed that almost every house built between 1980 and 2010 looks like some mass-produced house plan, smashed onto a bulldozed lot, facing whichever direction the street happened to be going, built by the cheapest subcontractors possible? It always seemed crazy to me. Developers didn't even care which way the sun faced! I think that's why I've found myself so interested in anything that wasn't that — craftsman houses, timber-frame buildings, modern passive homes, and clever tiny spaces. There's a whole world of possibility in the buildings we spend most of our time in, and I think it's worth the time to think them through.
A house designed for its surroundings: the first floor raised above ground level so it sits above the snow
Up until recently, this has all just been a personal interest of mine, but earlier this year I bought a plot of land here in South Lake to build a house on. That's meant I've had all kinds of fun learning about exactly how the TRPA works, what an IPES score is, why we have coverage restrictions, and how El Dorado county manages building allocations. So now I've got a building allocation in hand and in theory could start construction next summer.
The new empty plot, waiting for a house (there's a trail to the woods behind cutting through)
In the meantime, I'm working with a design+build firm to figure out what the house is going to look like. Me being me, I've also been playing around with my own ideas and trying to understand the constraints of the lot better. In order to do that, I've been trying to answer what makes a good home? It's been a fun process to learn the difference between art-box architecture (looks pretty, but isn't very functional) and homes that are a pleasure to live in.
If you're interested in this kind of stuff, check out some of my favorite books & videos: Patterns of Home (from the authors of A Pattern Language), Pure Living for Life's timber frame build, Kristen Dirksen's house tours, Matt Risinger's Build Show, and of course — Cabin Porn.
In order to take some of these principles down to earth, I've also been learning how to use SketchUp over the past month or so. It's been something I've had on my list to learn for years now, and after a few days of suffering through video tutorials (I really do hate video tutorials), I can say I finally feel comfortable sketching out ideas.
I started out by experimenting with possible house layouts on the new property. This isn't what the house will look like, but it's been a great way to get a feeling for the various constraints on the plot.
One possible layout
Another layout, with an eye toward leveraging southern exposure
What I'm most excited about is being able to work out projects for the ranch so I can have a better idea of the materials needed. My last big project for the year out there is remodeling the bath house, which has been a squirrel haven for about a decade now.
Playing with a new layout for the bath house
This year I also picked up two new sports: splitboarding (backcountry snowboarding) and mountain biking. For years I've long been a fan of Jeremy Jones' Deeper, Further, Higher series about foot-powered big mountain riding. And let's face it — the crowds at the ski resorts have left me yearning for some paths less traveled. So I finally got myself a splitboard setup and took my AIARE 1 class this winter. As for mountain biking, it's been a great way to keep up my cardio fitness throughout the summer and have fun rolling down hills that aren't covered in snow. I can't say I've become very proficient in either, but everyone's gotta start somewhere.
Skinning up a local hill in Jackson with Andy
Mountain biking in Tahoe doesn't suck with these kinds of views
And if you're interested in doing some touring this winter, let me know! I'd love to find more people to go climb mountains with me. Plus I've got an extra bed here in South Lake you can crash on.
That's more than enough words for one letter, so I'm leaving the rest for another time. Next, I'm hoping to share more about my 4Runner build, the solar shed & road improvements at the ranch, and hopefully a bit more on the house build.
Oh yeah. If you have any questions, comments, or anything in between — don't hesitate to reach out. In fact even if you don't have a question I'd love to hear from you. What are you up to? What's got your brain all fired up lately?
Until next time,
Kyle
P.S. Some of you got forced-subscribed to this letter because I added you. If you don't want anymore letters, go ahead and unsubscribe with the link below. I won’t be mad.