The Game

 

PREPARATION VS PLANNING

 

Preparation Vs Planning

I’ve been thinking about this topic for a while.  They’re different concepts.

Planning assumes a fair amount of control and details logical steps to achieve an end goal.  At work we have these all the times.  We have project plans.  Step 5 is contingent on Step 4, Steps 2 and 3 can be done concurrently, each step takes different times to complete and there are measured milestones along the way.  Stack them together and a project plan emerges.

Preparation is conceptually different.  At work it’s a fast supply chain.  You don’t know what opportunities are going to present themselves, but with a short supply chain you can react to things you didn’t plan for. 

Another analogy is sailing.  During our 2018 race to Alaska race we took great care in preparing the boat.   Sails, some turbo charging of the boat, and other key things to have a fully found, capable boat.  We were aware of other teams, with faster boats, who put an enormous amount of work in to "planning".  “Chart work” as they called it.   Preparation seemed to be secondary.  We had no plan.  We were confident in our preparation and reacted accordingly.  It paid off.

Swinging back to a topic closer to home, Mom is 90 years old and we have a family member who is frustrated there’s no ‘plan’ as she ages.  Mom lives alone, is fairly happy and self sufficient, and I’m trying to get up there every other week and other family members are starting to go up as well.   Mom has a robust social group – and that’s better expressed in the plural, groups, that are engaging and full of some pretty cool people.

So while there’s no ‘plan’, Mom is "prepared".  She has a long term health plan that allows for 3 years of in home help.  There’s no plan to use it at present.  We don’t know if it’s going to be next Tuesday, June of 2025 or some indeterminate date far in the future.  Even using it is not a fait accompli.  But it’s there.  Ready to go if circumstances require it. 

At some point she’ll likely stop driving.  While there’s no plan in place there are plenty of options to use one of several taxi services or leverage one of her ‘helpers’ (she has 3-4 that visit the house if not every week fairly frequently doing house cleaning and outside maintenance).  There are options which really don’t yet need to be explored as there’s no current need.

So while there’s no ‘plan’, Mom has taken and cultivated the appropriate preparation for life's uncertainties.  With all the uncontrollable in life, preparation, not planning, is the key to happiness.   Things rarely go to plan causing frustration.  But confidence in your preparation means fewer things to worry about.

“Planning leads to awareness. Preparation leads to readiness.”

Both have their place, but as I age and accept all the uncertainties that life offers, preparation leads to better outcomes.  We don't have the control over events that we may want.  We never well.  It's not that planning is unimportant.  But preparation is more important.

Even if we've been unintentionally getting prepared...

Bellingham Delivery Trip

 

Cambria is getting a new top.  It's long over due.  Well beyond its useful life, the aging sunbrella and cracked windows will be retired and give way to a slightly redesigned model.  The objective is to have move a little more to a permanent top with solar on top.  The current canvas has an athwartship (yeah, it's a word) zipper that allows for the aft portion to be taken down in good weather.  The forward portion can also be rolled up to totally open the cockpit.  Great.  In theory.

First off, the weather is seldom good when we're on the boat.  If it's July or August, we're likely to be backpacking or hiking in the mountains.  The boat, for us, has become an off season haven.  And when it's good weather, I'm bald and fair skinned.  I get sunburned looking at tropical commercials on TV.

The top hasn't been down in years.  We often remove the side curtains, but whether for sun protection, shedding rain, or retaining heat in the winter the top always is up.  I debated a permanent top, but a friend walked me through the steps and cost of fabricating one and it was above my comfort level with expense.   There are no straight lines and even the cost for a canvas top is astonishingly high (I got 3 bids, all within the same general number).

So this will be a semi permanent top, with removeable side curtains.  It'll have 2 longitudinal zippers to peel back a portion during hot weather to get airflow (that feature is used often) and I'm hoping to augment my current solar array with flexible panels on top.  

With the recent addition of 'starlink' Cambria has become a nice off the grid aquatic home with the ability to be fully on line anywhere between here and Alaska.  The new top will enhance comfort in less than ideal situations.

I'm also putting in zippers in the aft window to allow for full rotation of the winch handles.  This will allow for fully enclosed sailing.   

But first I needed to get the boat up to Bellingham where Greg and team, at Oyster Creek Canvas will design and build the top.  

Leigh was kind enough to give me, my bike and gear a lift to the boat before she departed the following morning to visit her father in Spokane.  We had a nice outdoor dinner at sunset (will this summer ever end?? It's mid-October!)

Sleeping on the boat is heavenly.  Quiet, gentle movement of the water, it's wonderful.  I did wake up a few times reviewing my mental checklist as a got ready for a 70ish mile, 2 day, singlehanded journey from Seattle up to Bellingham.  I've done this trip a few times but more commonly run up and down from the islands.  I chose to run up the inside and go through the Swinomish Channel -- something I haven't done for over a decade.  

The currents were modest and little wind was in the forecast.  A simple dawn to dusk run up Puget Sound.

The never ending summer of '22 is paired with wildfires and the smoke this weekend was visible all day.  The dirty orange sun rose after I had gotten underway.

I rarely watch football anymore, but between starlink and streaming services, watching college ball while underway is a nice diversion.  Above is was the Iowa Texas game and below dishy is angled north retrieving a signal.  The wonders of technology never cease to amaze.   My mind roams back nearly a half century earlier when I took a 29 foot boat up to Alaska with no electronics at all.  Not even a depth finder as we had a lead line.  Now I can do zoom calls from the boat.  

Below was typical of most of the day.  No boats (except for fishermen off Shilshole and especially Edmonds.   Off Edmonds I counted 40 small fish boats with a quick sweep of the binoculars.  The day was calm, quiet, with a faint haze from the smoke.

The Swinomish Channel is a dredged channel connecting the upper end of Saratoga passage with Fidalgo Bay, entirely avoiding exposure to Rosario Strait.  It's a nice comfortable alternative to the sometimes raucous nature of Rosario.  It's narrow but well marked.  You do need to pay attention.  I'm hoping that the boat below isn't the old 'Roanoke'.  It kinda looked like her but I didn't see a name on it.  The Roanoke was a platform used by Al Cummings and Jo Baily-Cummings for their 'Gunkholing' books on cruising the Pacific Northwest.  Both have since past, but between her curiosity and enthusiasm and his folksy nature (Al was a radio personality in Seattle for years) their 'Gunkholing' books still make for good reading on where to cruise.  And, perhaps more importantly, why.

If it is the old Roanoke it'd be a sad last chapter in that boat's history.

Below is a shot from the channel

After getting underway just before sunrise, I was tying up just before sunset.  Cap Sante marina is pretty nice and I'm hoping that after being on the wait list for 3 or so years I'll finally be able to move Cambria north permanently.

October Weekend in the Mountains

A week in Iceland, a weekend on the island, and then this weekend.  One in the mountains in the trailer. 

A friend built a cool cabin near Mount Baker and while he invited us to use it, we towed the trailer up and parked it in the driveway.  Part of that was we like the trailer – but the other part is experimenting with furthering our ‘boondocking’ routine.  No hookups.  Managing power and liquids to stay as independent as possible. 

Friday’s evening’s trip up I-5 was more brutal than usual.  Close to an hour of extra time getting through Everett.  But, with trailer in tow and a known destination, we could chat and simply enjoy the bumper to bumper traffic.

The cabin is off the Mt Baker highway, about 20 miles shy of the ski area.  Freshly built it’s a cool 2 bedroom cabin.  Simple elegance. 

Saturday morning was a little too leisurely.   We left the trailer on the way to Artist Point to arrive to an all too full parking lot at the trail head.  In chats with the neighbors who have nearby cabins (everyone keeps an eye on everyone up here), the traffic has gotten worse and worse with each passing year.  I can see way.

Ptarmigan Ridge and the Chain Lakes are just about as beautiful as it gets.   This type of scenery is usually accessible on the 2^nd day of a backpack, but here, just 5 minutes into the hike, the views open up.

 

 

Into the hike we encountered a gal who said ‘beautiful day, eh?’.  We casually asked if she was Canadian and that led into a discussion about hiking in Canada.  She did say that Ptarmigan Ridge was her ‘all time favorite hike’ (we can see why), but then went on to chat about her favorite Canadian hikes and camping areas. 

She mentioned Kentucky Lake, Bluey Lake, Banff, Jasper, Lake Louise, and Johnson Canyon.

Pressing on a bit higher we had lunch at a viewpoint, then turned around back to the trailhead. 

I don’t think we’ve ever been on a hike that combined such scenery with crowds of people.  This is an easy, accessible hike and the popularity is on the rise.  As crowded as the parking lot was when we got there, when we left there were overflow cars on both sides of the road for a half mile or more outside the parking lot as we left. 

Once back at the ‘Campsite’ Leigh went for a walk had chatted with the neighbors.  On one side of the cabin, ‘2 doors down’ was Stacey, and then Elmer lived a few houses down on the other side.  Both have a history with this area and it was interesting to hear how the properties evolved.

 The inside of the cozy trailer

The weekend's 'campsite'.

Bye to September, hello to October

Driving up I-5 I was frustrated by the sequence of events.  My plan to catch the 8:25pm ferry the previous evening was thwarted by the attempted theft of Vera’s car parked in front of the house.  Vera and Leigh are still in Ireland and at some point, probably Wednesday night, some kids taking the “Kia Challenge” .  I had planned to leave after work and get up I-5, but instead was filing a police report, meeting a sheriff deputy, cleaning up glass in the street, and, well, I didn’t make the ferry.

Friday looked like I might have a window during a long lunch to boogie up to the ferry and then work from the car, but some long winded conversations pushed my departure to the brink of missing the ferry.  So I raced up I5, did a bit of urgent work from the ferry line and then discovered that lingering fog and the usual Washington State Ferry shenanigans had resulted in a two hour ferry delay. 

At this point, I had to choose.  Continue to be frustrated by the sequence of events or be thankful that I was going to the islands on a gorgeous fall weekend to a family property that my father and mother bought 60 years ago.  I chose the latter approach and relaxed.

Getting to the islands was never easy.  Over the years we’ve had hours long waits and delays and other times when you never stop in line – you arrive and seamlessly drive on to the ferry.  This trip slots about in the middle.  A first world problem.

Arriving at the island I walked into the little cabin, donned a dress shirt and about a minute later was driving mom over to Roche Harbor for dinner.  Despite no reservations on a Friday night we scored a window table in the bar, Manhattans were served and we caught up on recent events and reminisced about older events. 

Roche Harbor Hotel at night

My father first visited Roche in the late 50’s and was met at the dock by Rube Tarte, the gentleman who, along with his wife Clara, bought the property, then a played-out Limestone Quarry, in 1956.  As my father described it, he was approaching the dock in the inside towards the end when an older fellow was walking quickly down the dock to take the lines.  He visibly slowed and by the time he got out to the end of the dock, dad was tied up.  Mr. Tarte offered he was going to help, but when he saw one of my father’s crew taking soundings with a lead line, he figured the skipper knew what he was doing.

Dad came to the islands in the mid 40’s.   He was in the Navy, was in the early stages of training to be a fighter pilot in WWII (he said he and his friends were somewhat fatalistic about the war.  They figured they were going to die and where would they want that event to happen.  In the air or in a trench?  They decided the air would be better).  Based at NAS Alameda, he had gone through basic training in Stearman biplanes, but the war was coming to an end and the thousands of pilots in various stages of training were no longer needed.  He and 2 other young fellows decided, apparently without much thought, to visit the northwest and ended up at the parents' house of one of the guys in Medina, Washington.  The house was owned by Frank and Ellen Helsell.  After a long weekend, the 3 young guys were pulled aside by the elder Mrs. Helsell and informed that she was aware of a camp on Orcas Island, Four Winds, and they were in need of counselors.  She encouraged them to ‘go’. 

Dad had grown up in Pennsylvania, was ‘engaged to be engaged’, and after a brief stint in the Navy found himself in the San Juan Islands asking himself ‘why would I want to go anywhere else’?

That summer he vowed to do 3 things.  Become a doctor, get a small cabin in the islands, and buy a boat.  He did all three.  60 years later I maintain the boat he and I co-owned for 30 years and I’m writing this from the small cabin he built by hand. 

Bringing events back to the current day, this weekend would follow a very familiar pattern repeated in various forms over the past 60 years.  A not always smooth trip up to the islands, a weekend mixture of chores, food, conversation, and advancement of projects followed by the inevitable trip back to the city.

One of the nice things about this time of year is that it’s pitch black at 6am, so the sunrise is at a time when you can sip coffee, write, and simply enjoy earth’s spin as the new day dawns.

About 6:30am or so

The day has begun!

So while in Iceland last week, we saw a simple early Iceland house reconstructed for a museum display.  Notice any similarities?

Early Icelandic living

Present day in the little cabin

Today started out with Omar taking car of some of the outside chores and I helped inside getting her fall decorations out of storage.  Mom busied herself redecorating for Fall and completely out of the blue Dana called with her sister, father and aunt and uncle in tow.  Turns out her aunt and her husband live just up the road.  A quick tour of the place was followed by some story telling.  Too many to mention here, but Dana's husband, currently on Wake Island, had a grandmother who was close friends of Ruth Brown, likely in the 30's or early 40's.  That same Ruth Brown ran the camp that my father was encouraged to go to by Mrs Helsell as the Helsells were also friends of Ruth Brown.  Small world and here we were, just shy of a century later and a couple of generations removed chatting in the same islands.

And, true to island life, just as stories were being told in the living room of the house, transient Orca Whales went by, right in front.  Along with the predictable entourage of harassment boats.   At some point, whale watching as an industry needs to go away,  My views on that have hardened over the years, but whales rely on echo location to find their food and having a bunch of screws turning in the water can't help.  After living aboard for several years and from SCUBA diving, the sound a propellor makes in the water is loud.  I suspect it'd be like hiking with huge mosquitos.  The industry needs a bit regulatory swat.

After the visit I set to chores.  Car, hanging a picture, running to town to get some concrete for tomorrow's project.  With the concrete in hand and forms made, I relaxed a bit with music before making dinner.  Pork tenderloin, baked potatoes, and a medley of squash, onion and garlic.  Then we watched Reese Witherspoon's film 'Where the Crawdad's Sing'.  Really good movie.

Up again Sunday morning with glass like water.  Experiencing the sun coming up, trying to make a GIF of it.  The earth's seasonal movement is stunning from this vantage point.  Some year I'll take sunrise pictures on or around June 21st then again 6 months later on December 21st.  In June, the sunrise is way north and the sun goes over head.  6 months later it's far to the south and the sun hangs low all day.  Daylight goes from some 16 hours in June to 8 hours in December.  Daylight is cut in half.

There's been no boat traffic yet this morning.  Yesterday the 'Steadfast' went by, presumably on her way back from Alaska.  The big boats pass by twice a year.  Once on the way up, then again on the way back.  The Steadfast is some 150 feet long and used to be the Boeing Corporate boat.  Mom and Dad were treated to an annual dinner on that thing - the result a fund raiser that one of their friends bid on each year.  

Last night a couple kayaking went by.  From their stroke pattern I surmised they were experienced kayakers.  Beautiful night for kayaking, and I have a hunch they came in from Stuart Island as they had deck packs and appear to have been out camping.  

Morning brought another great sunrise.  Then a quick breakfast.  Then a hike.  Leigh and I had chatted about a way to lengthen our normal hike up Mt Young.  It's a good little hike, but is short with modest elevation gain of around 600 feet.  The way we used to do it was only a mile or so, starting about a half mile north of the drive down to English Camp.  Then we lengthened it to 1.5 miles by starting at the 'Y' where the West Valley road joins the Roche Harbor Road.  But with only 600 feet, we wanted a longer trail.  So today I started where Rouleau road meets the Limestone point road -- about a mile away from the house.  

The Roche Harbor Trail system is great.  I heard that it was conceived by a fellow named Brent but is maintained by several volunteers.  They do a great job and the trails, combined with GAIA GPS , make for an easy way to follow the myriad of trails.  

The trail I chose winds through the disc golf course, which probably wasn't great, but there was no one around.  After 1.8 miles rather pleasant miles the trail crosses the road and then onto the familiar trail up Mt Young.  Another 1.5 miles and then the top comes into view.  

Roche Harbor Disc Golf Course

Trails are well signed and mapped

With a great view from the top

Brought back some hitchhikers!!

All in all about a 6.5 mile hike.   I think I can improve the route a bit and we can lengthen it further (or keep the mileage but change the route) by dropping down on the other side of Mt Young and going around the lake.

Dinner followed by a couple of episodes of the 'Crown'.

The morning scene from the little cabin was peaceful, and the sunrise was especially nice.

 Back to work.  But what a nice weekend.