There’s just enough time between the Christmas holiday and New Year’s Eve for people to get bored, but it’s not a good time to launch new TV shows or announce new political initiatives, so we have to have something to keep us entertained.

(As a kid this meant me listening to countdowns of the top one billion songs on the charts for that year, and somehow a Celine Dion or Aaron Neville song always made it into the top five…this was painful, but perhaps reflects more poorly on me and the particular genre of music station I was listening to than it does on all of the music produced in those years.)

But it’s been an unusually full year for me, so I thought I’d take a moment to reflect back on what that has included:

• Started the year newly engaged to be married to Kelly, a decision we made together on New Year’s Eve Day 2010
• Filed as a candidate for Richmond’s City Council, campaigned, debated, interviewed, door-to-doored, won in the primary election, didn’t win in the general election, and had an amazing experience along the way
• Planned a wedding, got married in May surrounded by the amazing support of friends and family, spent some time relaxing on the beaches of Sanibel Island to celebrate
• Traveled alongside Kelly as she experienced the life-changing symptoms of, and was later diagnosed with, Postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome (POTS), and supported her as she continues to navigate the Western medical system, seeks paths to recovery, and adjusts to the new realities of her day-to-day life
• Lived in Portland, Oregon for a month during the summer, had some amazing adventures in the Northwest, got to participate in a vibrant and progressive city scene, caught up with some dear old friends and made some new ones
• Drove across the country and back, saw some beautiful landscapes and places including Mount Rushmore, Grand Teton and Yellowstone Park, and lived through a hailstorm in the badlands of South Dakota
• Welcomed three great new staff members to my technology company Summersault
• Adopted a wonderful labrador retriever named Chloe
• Read a bunch of books, watched a lot of movies

And those are just the highlights.  Whatever joys and challenges I’ve experienced this year, I clearly live a privileged life with many things to be thankful for.  At the center of it in 2011 has been the amazing experience of deepening in my love for and commitment to my partner Kelly; I don’t know what a “normal” engagement and beginning of a marriage looks like, but we’ve certainly had a lot of unusual adventures together this year, and I celebrate them all.

That said, I’m ready for 2012 to be here, artificial as that milestone might be.  I hope for more, faster progress in recovering Kelly’s health, continued clarity about ways I can make a real and lasting impact in my community and beyond, simplification of my possessions and personal property ownership, and enjoyment of some upcoming opportunities to have some fun.

What has 2011 been like for you?  What hopes or possibilities does the new year hold?  (Or if that’s too much to consider, which Celine Dion song is going to top the charts this year?)

The most memorable and terrifying part of the trip was our stop at Badlands National Park.  We should have known something was brewing when the gas station a few miles outside the entrance to the park was all atwitter with talk of the weather and the ominous storm clouds in the distance, but we pressed on anyway.

When we got to a particularly beautiful canyon area and went out for a walk, the winds were blowing hard and bringing some serious temperature changes.  The sky continued to darken, and we knew we were in for a storm.  The rattlesnake that lay in our path a few yards up ahead seemed to suggest Turn Back While You Still Can, so we did.

Kelly: “I think we should get in the car quickly.”

Chris: “Oh, a little rain never hurt anyone.  It’ll feel good!”

Kelly: “I think we should get in the car quickly.”

Fellow tourists all around were darting into their cars quickly, so I let go of the “isn’t it wonderful to experience nature up close and directly” shtick and got in the car.

What was left of the ice AFTER it had broken into smaller pieces.

Not sixty seconds after we’d pulled out onto the road, I saw in the distance, in the direction of the ominous clouds, a breath-taking scene: the land and sky were turning white as some kind of wall of moisture moved across it.  Toward us.  I pulled over to the side of the road.  ”I think we’re about to…”

I didn’t even have time to finish my sentence when the first piece of hail hit.  It sounded like the car had been shot, and we both jumped in our seats.  There were definitely some forceful verbal expressions of fear and/or excitement going on.  Popcorn style, the huge pieces of hail continued to fall, although it seemed more like they were being launched – from above, from the side, from all around.  THWAP!  THWAP! THWAP!

When one left a nice nine-inch crack across the windshield, we looked at each other and wondered if we were in more danger than we first thought.  We scrambled to cover our faces with jackets, etc. in case something did shatter, though I couldn’t resist at times watching the balls of ice slam into the hood of the car.  BLAM!  BLAM! BLAM!

After a few minutes, it was over.  We pulled into a ranger station a bit up the road, and got out to survey the damage, along with a bunch of other drivers.  Windshields were broken, sunroofs cracked, and the huge dents in the metal were just unreal.  At least one ambulance went by, and Kelly and I recalled how close we’d been to standing outside when the ice hit.  Strangers became temporary friends as we all recounted our experience of the hailstorm.  The ranger was nonchalant: “we get about two of those per year.”

Fortunately for us, the damage we experienced can be relatively easily repaired, and we made it to our final destination without further weather drama. I have a certain amount of polite resentment for the insurance industry as a whole, but I have to say that I’m certainly lucky to have it in this case.  Ann and the folks at my wonderful insurance agency Harrington Hoch were able to process the claim quickly, and after the technicians at the auto body shop in Portland apparently dropped what they were doing to come see the cottage cheesed surfaces of the car when it came in, they were excited to get to work making the car look like new.

For me, I won’t ever again make the assumption of emerging from a hail storm unscathed, and when everyone around me is running for cover, I will be more open to the possibility (unlikely as it is) that they know something I don’t.

Your own severe weather event stories are welcome in the comment section below.

Travel has a way of stretching the mind. The stretch comes not from travel’s immediate rewards, the inevitable myriad new sights, smells and sounds, but with experiencing firsthand how others do differently what we believed to be the right and only way.

I can’t agree enough with this quote by Ralph Crawshaw.  I am always fed by seeing the world from the different perspectives that come with traveling around it, being temporarily away from the routines, habits and comforts of my home.  Indeed, many of my best life choices and decisions have sprung from the thinking and reflecting that I’ve done while experiencing some other part of the country or the world, engaging in new conversations and reacting to new landscapes. I’ve often had my notion of “the right and only way” challenged and redefined by seeing how others live, work and play.  I’m appreciative of the privilege to have had these experiences.

I’m currently having another one.  For several weeks this summer, I’ll be spending time in Portland, Oregon and in other areas of the northwestern U.S.

The trip is a combination of professional development, research in community building and city governance, and personal adventure and reflection.  Because a number of friends and colleagues have asked me about the trip, I thought I’d say a little more about these three areas of focus.

Professional Development

While continuing to work full time at Summersault I’m also exploring how other technology companies do what they do, and seeing what I can bring back to our office in Richmond, Indiana to do what we do better.  In many ways I have exhausted the professional development and training resources available to me in east central Indiana when it comes to leadership, management and building a business, and so I’ve been looking for other opportunities to build those skills.

As I meet with other entrepreneurs and technology workers in the northwest, I’ll be trying to answer questions like:

• How do other technology businesses keep their business model strong and relevant in the evolving landscape of the information age?
• What kinds of environmental factors contribute to having a happy, engaged, creative team of staff members?
• How does the version of managing a team that I’ve cultivated over the years stack up to how other companies do it?  What can I do better or differently, and what have I got all wrong?
• What kinds of things do other cities do to successfully attract and retain technology workers?
• How does Summersault’s community involvement compare to what other companies do for their communities?

Community Building and City Governance Research

As a part of my campaign for City Council in Richmond, I’ve talked a lot about the need to help Richmond think differently about what it’s capable of, and to help the community move forward with a fresh perspective.  I’ve lived in Richmond a long time, though, so it’s just as important for me to step outside “the way things are usually done” there as it is for other community leaders to do the same.  We know that there are other cities around the world that are thriving and growing; some of them are similar to Richmond, some very different, but I think they all have something to offer when it comes to imagining new possibilities for a thriving Richmond, Indiana.

As I attend City Council sessions and meet with politicians and community builders in Portland, and as I travel to other cities in the region (while still working on my campaign back in Richmond), I’ll be trying to answer questions like:

• How are thriving cities operating their city governments in a way that balances quality of life with economic realities?
• What relatively inexpensive, high-impact changes could Richmond, Indiana make to be a more vibrant and self-reliant place to live?
• What are the relationships like in other places between government officials, community activists, non-profit organizations and business leaders?
• What kinds of things do other cities do to successfully attract and retain technology workers? (As above for professional development.)
• If I’m elected to City Council in Richmond, what can I learn from others about how can I be the most effective in that role?

Personal Adventure and Reflection

My life and identity are deeply rooted in Richmond, Indiana.  As a small business owner, community builder and property owner, and just as someone who has come to love that place and that land so much, I don’t spend much time wondering what life would be like if I lived elsewhere.

But I also know that it’s important to me to continue to challenge my own understanding of my identity and sense of what home is, if only so that I don’t become stagnant in my thinking about how to improve and refine those things.  And as I noted above, there’s nothing more perspective-bringing for me than to see my life from the outside for a bit, to put it in contrast to how others live.

So, as I live somewhere else long enough to be more than just a tourist and to get a picture of myself in a different setting, I’ll be reflecting on questions like:

• What is it about Richmond, Indiana that makes it home for me?  Why do I live there and not some other place?
• What things about a neighborhood, a community, a city are important to me to have, and what things can I let go of?
• What parts of my identity and sense of self are done evolving, and what parts do I need to explore more, push on, challenge?
• How can I be the best possible member of the community I live in, the best possible friend to the friends I have, the best possible partner to Kelly, all while balancing my own hopes, dreams and goals?
• How can I have fun and adventure in ways that aren’t available to me in Richmond, Indiana?

Get On With It Already

That’s a lot of questions to try to answer at once, and who knows what I’ll have time for in between working in the “Portland branch of Summersault,” bike rides through the city, trips to the Farmer’s Market, gathering with the surprising number of friends and business colleagues who live out this way, and just enjoying what the days bring.  But I’ll be posting some here about what I learn along the way, and you can also follow my adventures through Twitter and the photos I’m posting to Flickr.

If you have connections in Portland, OR or the Northwest and/or live here and want to connect, please get in touch!

The photos and videos I’ve posted on Flickr capture some of the experience, and while the trip held too much adventure to describe here in great detail, I’ll hit some of the highlights below.  (You can also go back and read individual posts written during the trip.)

Our trip was a nice combination of planned itinerary (primarily, the week-long stay on the boat M/Y Eric to tour around the Galapagos) and “wander around once we get there” mode.  The Lonely Planet Guide to Ecuador and the Galapagos Islands provide indispensable for the whole experience, from helping with food to lodging to cultural experiences and everything in between.  We were also visiting in advance of the heavier tourist season, so we were able to get into most any experience without advance reservation.

In the cloud forests of Mindo, to the northwest of Quito, we were so impressed by our stay at El Monte, a jungle lodge where we had a cabana for two nights.   Between the beautiful spot we had right on the rushing Mindo river, the amazing home-cooked meals three times a day, the beautiful main open-air lodge, and the warm and friendly staff, we were in paradise (mosquitoes notwithstanding).  We also had a chance to meet and dine with travelers from around the world, some of them on multi-month trips – it was quite fun (and okay, sometimes exhausting) to discuss politics, religion and economics with such a wide variety of global perspectives.  El Monte was created and is run by Tom and Mariella, who have worked hard to create an experienced powered by renewable resources (mostly hydro and solar) and supported by an amazing staff of cooks, guides, and hospitality coordinators.  We felt like we were among friends and well taken care of.

Our time in the Galapagos Islands was phenomenal.  The main theme of the encounters with the land and the animals of the islands is that they don’t know any fear of humans, and so it is possible to walk right up to a sea lion, a blue footed boobie bird or an iguana and look them in the eye. And that we did, day after day.  We sunned on the beach with the magnificent families of sea lions, and then joined them in the water when it got too hot. We snorkeled around amazing coral reef with penguins, sting rays, sharks and the most beautiful varieties of fish. We hiked through lava rock formations to see iguana resting and watching, huge bright red crabs sunning, waved albatross nesting, and great blue heron quietly stalking. Pelicans swooped by just inches away, and finches (all 13 varieties) showed us their nests. We watched in awe of the giant tortoises that had been alive longer than Kelly and I combined, slowly moving around their home in search of the best grass, the coolest pond.

After the Galapagos, we headed south into the Andes mountains for the city of Banos, where we originally intended to stay just a night or two, and ended up soaking it in for five days.  Banos seems to be the Ecuadorian equivalent of Boulder, Colorado – an outdoorsy person’s Mecca buried in the mountains, with myriad activities you can take on to pass the time.  Every block offers touring companies that will take you rafting, kayaking, canyoning, jungle tripping, go-carting, mountain biking and more.  There are trails extending up to the volcano and surrounding volcanic formations that range from steep to “are you kidding me?”   The best part is that once you’re done with your outdoor adventure, this place knows how to help you relax.  There are natural baths with water heated by the volcano, massage and spa companies on every block (most professional, some not), and so many different restaurants representing cuisine from around the world, it can take an hour to decide what to eat.  I think we found a good balance of high adventure (the most intense Class IV+ whitewater rafting either of us have ever done) followed by relaxation (ask me about the spa experience sometime).

Adjusting to different forms of transportation was a source of constant excitement on this trip.  As is apparently the case with much of South America, the experience of taking a bus between cities is very common, and can be very harrowing (especially for the uninitiated tourist).  Taxis in Quito seem to top even the most white-knuckle-grip experiences I’ve had in cities in the U.S.  One private driver we hired was an amazing and knowledgeable personal tour guide as he deftly navigated the different terrains, while another had never been to the destination we hired him to take us to and ended up depending on us for map navigation.  The Quito airport runway is a little bit short and sits smack dab in the middle of a densely populated city, so takeoffs and landings were a little nerve-wracking.  And it turns out that I am capable of getting quite sea sick, which I found out on night #1 on our Galapagos boat in the form of an evening-long  vomiting session on the sundeck.  Things got better from there, thanks in no small part to the great care from Kelly and the crew (and Scopolamine), but there were some moments where I wasn’t sure I was going to make it.  All in all, figuring out transportation was an adventure in itself.

This trip was the first real international travel I’d done in more than a decade, and my first time to South America.  Despite all of my detail-oriented preparation lists and packing and figuring out finances and scattered attempts to brush up on Spanish, in the end I just dove into the experience and let it take me where it would – this almost always resulted in great joy.  It was an honor to travel with Kelly, and we took good care of each other while enjoying the company greatly.  Ecuador was a beautiful, welcoming, diverse, complicated, amazing place to visit, and the experiences we had there were perspective-bringing and life-giving.

I’ll be happy to tell you more about it when I see you next.

Thanks so much to everyone who followed along on this blog, and who cheered us on as we traveled. It was an interesting experience to share and get feedback along the way, and we’ll certainly look forward to sharing more of our experiences with you in person.

This will likely serve as the final “real” post here, and we’ll eventually take this blog down. You can look for more reflections and our photos soon on my personal blog, my Flickr account and maybe even my YouTube account for some videos.

For now, it’s time to rest. Take care!

The road was eventually opened at least temporarily, and we sped off into the hills (and we made it to Otavalo where I write from). Do we have good timing or what?

It paid off – we had some of the best rafting that either of us have ever experienced.  It turned out that they were Class IV+ rapids – not exaggerated at all.  Not only that, they were one after another – no leisurely floating down the river in between to recover your senses.  Huge waves, broken paddles, screams of disbelief, kayaker trapped upside down, dangerous water dynamics, the guide always yelling “FORWARD, FORWARD,” and so on.  Chris has never heard as many, um, un-pastorly like words out of Kelly’s mouth in one sitting before.  Sitting at the front of the raft, Chris never swallowed so much river water in his life.  But we both stayed in the boat (a real achievement, we’ll show you the video!), pulled more than our weight in terms of paddling, and greatly enjoyed the camradarie with our fellow boatmates.  No sea-sickness this time around.

After spending the rest of that day enjoying the town again and relaxing, we wanted to challenge ourselves again today.  But what we thought was a challenge – a one-hour hike up the volcanic mountain to a great view (photo at left) – turned out to be a standard walking route for the locals.  We literally passed a little girl walking up the trail home from school in her uniform as we huffed and puffed our way back down in our high-tech hiking gear.  That was after some other kids RAN past us up the trail as a simple after-school work out.  Humbling to say the least, but the views were still amazing.

We cooled off from that with a trip to one of the baths I mentioned in the last post.  The water was springing up from the molten heart of the volcano, and so you had three options for water temperature: fria, caliente, and mas caliente.  We started with mas caliente and cooled off in between sessions with the ice-cold waterfall right next to the pool.  After we got our bearings, we (almost) felt right at home with the locals, who seem to come here often to relax, bathe and socialize.

We’re enjoying our last night in Banos, and then tomorrow we’re headed to Otavalo, a town north of Quito known for hosting one of the largest markets in the country.  Chris is a little skeptical of the whole market thing, but every tour book and person we’ve met said it’s a must-see.

So, back on the road we go to our final destination before our red-eye flight on Saturday night.  Earlier today, Kelly and I were expressing our amazement that we’re not totally sick of each other yet, but it turns out we travel pretty darn well together (at least in South America).  We’re having a great time.

See you soon!

As I mentioned before, Banos seems to be the Ecuadorian equivalent of Boulder, Colorado – an outdoorsy person’s Mecca buried in the mountains, with myriad activities you can take on to pass the time.  Every block offers touring companies that will take you rafting, kayaking, canyoning, jungle tripping, go-carting, mountain biking and more.  There are trails extending up to the volcano and surrounding volcanic formations that range from steep to “are you kidding me?”   The best part is that once you’re done with your outdoor adventure, this place knows how to help you relax.  There are natural baths with water heated by the volcano, massage and spa companies on every block (most professional, some not), and so many different restaurants representing cuisine from around the world, it can take an hour to decide what to eat.

After the puking on the boat and the  intense bus ride into Banos, I hope it’s no surprise that we spoiled ourselves a bit on Tuesday, the day after we got here:

Our hotel, Posada del Arte, is not only a cute little guesthouse with art EVERYWHERE, but its (included) breakfasts were declared some of our best ever had.  We walked around the town and explored, and then both got massages – Chris’s first in far too long.  Then we made our way to El Refugio, a spa company that seemed to have mastered helping you achieve “peace, serenity, tranquility.”  This reputation held up as Kelly and I took their required but incredible reflective walk across their amazing property deep in the Andes – walking barefoot across surfaces both lush and incredibly uncomfortable, a house on the top of a hill where you can just scream to let out your anger, and amazing vistas where you can reflect, connect, feel, breathe.  Absolutely stunning.

The serenity kinda stopped there – insert the sound of a record scratching here and cut to half an hour later, when Kelly and I are covered head to toe in ¨spa mud” and dancing awkwardly to Zumbra aerobic video dance lessons as the Spanish-only-speaking staff (not to mention the carpenter working on their facility outside) looked on in great amusement.  We actually paid for this service – remind me to scour YouTube when I get home for the video they surely made.  Cut next to Chris and Kelly awkwardly stuffed in steam boxes, being dragged out of them so they can throw cold water on us, stuffed back into the boxes, rinse and repeat about 3 times.  We were screaming and laughing harder than either of us have in a long time.

Okay, it wasn’t really all that tortuous, and in the end the experience was really relaxing and fun.  But never again will we get anywhere near spa mud.  No dancing photos will be provided.

Our day concluded with a amazing dinner at Marianne’s, a French-Mediterranean restaraunt here in town.  Fondue, wine, bread, salad, music, lively people – nice.  We called it a perfect day.

More about Banos in part 2, coming up.

Perhaps this beer at this cute little cafe will take the edge off, or perhaps one of the many leisure activities offered on every corner: volcano hikes, rafting, horseback riding, massages, etc.

In any case, this is home for a while, and (have I mentioned?) we’re so glad to be here.

Our time in the Galapagos islands was phenomenal. Words here won’t do justice to the things we saw and experienced there, and even the tons of photos and video we’re bringing back with us can’t fully capture it.

But a few highlights:

The main theme of the encounters with the land and the animals of the Galapagos is that they don’t know any fear of humans, and so it is possible to walk right up to a sea lion, a blue footed boobie bird or an iguana and look them in the eye. And that we did, day after day.

We sunned on the beach with the magnificent families of sea lions, and then joined them in the water when it got too hot. We snorkeled around amazing coral reef with penguins, sting rays, sharks and the most beautiful varieties of fish. We hiked through lava rock formations to see iguana resting and watching, huge bright red crabs sunning, waved albatross nesting, and great blue heron quietly stalking. Pelicans swooped by just inches away, and finches (all 13 varieties) showed us their nests. We watched in awe of the giant tortoises that had been alive longer than Kelly and I combined, slowly moving around their home in search of the best grass, the coolest pond.

We were joined in our travels by a great group of people from all walks of life. At each meal we sat with different folks and learned of their other travels, their lives back home, and their experiences of the world. Lawyers, doctors, ranchers, professors, chemists, biologists, parents, grandparents, friends. We learned to call each other by name and to help each other get the most out of the experience.

Perhaps the most central people in the whole experience were Karina and Ivan, our two naturalist guides. They were with us during almost every waking hour, and as we landed on each island, they did an amazing job of talking about individual plants, animals and landscapes while putting all of it in the context of the islands` history and formation. They brought humor, emotion and perspective that truly “made” the visit.

The hardest part of the whole trip was the vomit. The first night on the boat, during our initial “activities briefing” in the main lounge, I had to leave the group to go up on the sun deck, where I pretty much spent the next few days any time we were on the boat. My slight queasiness with the rocking motion had crossed the line into full-on sea sickness, and the rest of the night was all about throwing up in between 10-20 minutes of restless sleep. Kelly, having wisely obtained “the patch” before our trip, was not nearly as affected as I was, so she took good care of me. It was bad enough that we debated whether to continue the trip, but I managed to find some other passengers with extra patches that I could use, and so by the third day I was at least able to move around a bit, eat food, etc. in between landings on sweet, blessed solid ground. We were even able to sleep in the stateroom we’d paid for during the last couple of nights, though sleeping under the stars on the sun deck was an experience I won’t forget.

Visiting the Galapagos by boat was truly a once-in-a-lifetime experience, and in the end, Kelly and I are both so grateful that we were able to do it, and the trials of sea sickness just made us appreciate it even more.

Well, I’ve gone on long enough – we’ve got some parts of Quito to see today, then we’re off on a bus to Banos, a town in the highland mountain area a few hours south of here. Kayaking, hiking and maybe even a spa treatment are in our near future. After that, it’s north to Otavalo to visit the market there and prepare for our trip home on Saturday.