Summer in the mountains of California is always a bit fickle. We don’t get the always-chilly dreary days that San Francisco and Portland. We don’t get the pummeling summers of Los Angeles. We don’t get the constant humid overcast summers of the South. We tend to get all of the above, all at once — crystal clear summer days intermixed with abrupt cold fronts and short-lived thunderstorms. It’s one of my favorite aspects of living here — we get the weather, unedited.
But that didn’t really happen this summer. It got hot and it just stayed that way. Warm, stagnant air hung in the mountains in a way I’ve never seen before. It felt very much like the rest of our world right now: stagnant.
It feels like many of us are waiting. Waiting for this to end. Waiting for something to come back. Waiting for things to get back to normal. But how long are we going to wait for? What if there isn’t a normal to get back to? Have we ever returned to normal before?
It’s been a weird summer.
My mind has been bouncing between two different paradigms for what feels like years at this point (editor’s note: it’s only been seven months). One part of me is clinging to what’s familiar and keeps reaching for the pause button on my life until things change. The other part of me feels like now is the time to act — to work toward rebuilding our society in ways that makes sense and is designed for the world we actually live in.
Transportation, healthcare, agriculture, education, industry, politics — you name it — it’s broken and dysfunctional in 2020. That feels like an incredible opportunity for innovation! At the same time, it feels harder than ever to actually enact change. It feels like an impossible feat to implement obviously-good proven ideas like universal healthcare. So how does that bode for any kind of real innovation that would require true change? It all feels like a tar pit — every movement forward is met with a stronger force pulling us backward even farther. Is the only winning move not to play?
And so I’m torn. Do I push forward even harder? Do I sit back and wait for things to end? And for what to end exactly? For the pandemic to end? For the cult of Trump and fascism to fade? For the smoke to clear? For the war to end?
But of course none of these have an end. The real world is messy and doesn’t work in absolutes. Just as the forest gradually blends into the desert, the struggles of today will slowly fade over time.
As for me? I guess I’m still figuring it out.
We got married!
A lot of people dream of a big wedding with hundreds of guests coming from all across the world to share food, drink, and stories about each other. Also known as a super-spreader event during a pandemic.
So on September 12th, Jessica and I got married in front of eleven of our friends against the backdrop of another historic wildfire season. It wasn’t the huge party with hundreds of guests many dream about — but it was exactly the kind of wedding we wanted.
We’re still planning to have a big party in a year or two, but it all kind of depends on the pandemic thing. In the meantime, I put together a little album to show some of my favorite photos from the weekend.
Busy Keeping Busy
We’re still building the house, but there are no updates. We’d hoped to break ground this summer, but covid plus a massive influx of construction interests in Tahoe have thrown a wrench into things. We’re still hoping to kick off construction first thing next spring.
We’ve also been keeping busy out at the ranch. We’ve mostly been continuing the process of fixing things up — sealing in the cabin, getting the showers working again, and preparing firewood for next year. But we also found some time for a few wedding projects — a little arch made out of aspens, dinner place holders (letting by our friend Monica Dinculescu), sand name tags for everyone’s room. Trees are useful! (And so are chainsaws!)
It’s been an incredible source of calm to be able to busy my body with work out there, take moments to forget about the broken civilization around us, and enjoy the mountain air. At least that was the case until the wildfire smoke moved in.
Another thing I’ve been doing is working with a designer (Rocky Roark) to create some branding for the ranch. The goal is to have a nice looking logo we can use for signs, t-shirts, badges — all kinds of fun stuff for people who come to visit in the future.
On the business side, I added Grit Superfoods to my short list of investments. I’m still interested in finding more small businesses to invest in — especially regenerative food production and locally owned & operated business around Tahoe. But this pandemic thing really does keep coming up.
While we did manage to enjoy the first few months outdoors, this wildfire business and the closing of the national forests really kind of put a damper on things. I’d hoped to do a few more things this summer — finish a few projects out at the ranch, get in some more backpacking, spend more time on my mountain bike, and do some more traveling. That didn’t quite work out for a number of reasons, but such is life.
What a weird summer. Thankfully the Aspens are turning, the air is cooling down, and hopefully (hopefully!) we’ll start to get some rain here in California as Summer fades and Fall approaches. I know that I’m looking forward to this one a bit more than years past.
Until next time,
Kyle