Picture by Jeff Moser/Bike Carson, licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-No Derivative Works license.
Once upon a time, I used to think that the only important thing in life was work. Well, maybe not the only important thing, but it was highest on my list. In fact, I thought it was so important that after I graduated from the U of M, I moved from Minneapolis to Dallas to take a job with EDS. I had initially resisted the idea of relocating after I graduated, and I probably had the right idea because I never liked Dallas. So, I moved back and got a job with Health Risk Management.
In August of 1995, I took a vacation to Lake Tahoe. I wanted to
try mountain biking out there, as well as doing other things like hiking,
taking a boat ride, and renting a jet-ski. I rented a mountain bike
and checked out two trails on the west side of the lake: the General Creek
Trail, where I came within about 100 feet of a black bear cub up the trail,
and the McKinney-Rubicon Trail, which I later found out is a famous four-wheeling
route. At the end of the day, I returned the bike, and the guy at
the rental shop suggested I try out the Flume Trail, on the east side of
the lake. It's a good thing he did, because if I hadn't followed
his suggestion, this page may not have been named The Information Singletrack.
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It was a long, tough climb from the parking lot to Marlette
Lake. I was thinking, "I'm not very physically fit! I don't
think I could even walk a mile at sea level!" When I got to the lake,
I waded in to cool off (which wasn't hard to do; the water was cold), and
then continued on to the main part of the Flume Trail. To describe
the scenery as "beautiful" would be understating things severely.
Being 1500 feet above Lake Tahoe, with its perfectly blue water, the clear
air, and the surrounding mountains was a transcendental experience and
one I doubt I'll be able to repeat. Unfortunately, nobody told me to bring
a camera, so I'm adding a picture from Flickr. Picture by Jeff Moser/Bike Carson, licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-No Derivative Works license. |
| About midway through the ride, I stopped to take a closer
look at the lake, the scenery, and the greenish water of Emerald Bay.
I thought to myself, "This is what's important in life. Not work,
not management toady politics at work, but getting out and being able to
enjoy life's experiences." That revelation was astounding --
for the first time, I realized that I had to make life matter for myself,
not take direction from everyone else and keep living up to everyone else's
expectations. It also means that while work is worthwhile and valuable,
I can't use it as my sole purpose in life and my entire sense of self-worth.
Besides, I had heard the expression, "You've never heard anyone on their
deathbed saying, 'I wished I had worked more hours.'" Picture by Jeff Moser/Bike Carson, licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-No Derivative Works license. |
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Of course, if my manager ever sees this page, he'll go apoplectic and
start questioning my loyalty to the company. If I could wish him
one thing, it would be this: The company isn't going to fold and go
bankrupt if we don't get everything fixed right away. (And no,
I'm not trying to make a case for sitting around and goofing off while
customers have critical bugs that need to be fixed.)
Links:
Fattire.com's
description of the Flume Trail
Ross
Finlayson's page at Stanford
adventuresports.com's
page
