So, I went back to my notes and realized that I had skipped over a significant part of “My Renovo Adventure.” Before I started focusing on going to Jackson, Wyoming, I had started a woodworking class at Seattle Central College in the beginning of 2024. But then I stopped. Why?

The class itself took a bit of effort to get into because it was the class after the intro class which was full. So to get into it I had to demonstrate that I had some woodworking experience already. If memory is correct I showed the instructor this picture with my request to be allowed into the class.

That’s my canoe paddle which I decided to repurpose as a cane and perhaps ultimately a breadboard too.

Why I was needing a cane and decided to make it out of my paddle, well that’s another one of those stories that I may return to at another time.

But, believe it or not, I just went back and found out that I had done a whole post on starting up with this woodworking class in which I use that exact same pic for the featured picture. So, if wanting to go back in time for more, see [HERE].

Returning to the question of why I paused. Perhaps, I should note that it was not because the shop teacher and her his pronouns were out of whack. That’s common fare for Seattle. Nor did the fact that “he” take 10 minutes of class time to “kumbaya” about the unfairness of “Israel’s aggression to Hammas.” See, that’s the kind of shit you just have to determine the end goal is not worth pointing out its stink.

No, instead my mother-in-law was failing and my wife asked me if I wanted to go back with her to China.

Here, I will readily admit that I still enjoy going back to China to visit my in-laws. But, there have been a few times when I have refrained. But, I sensed that this meant a bit more to my wife and her family this time. The fact that my wife made all the financial arrangements certainly helped too. So, yes I decided to drop out of the shop class.

To miss too many projects would just not due and as it turned out my instructor was a bit on to me as there were plenty of basic safety protocols which I hadn’t been recently trained up on per their shop rules. In particular, this amounted to remaining muzzled with a mask – now not necessarily because of COVID, but rather to mitigate sawdust inhalation – and the continual use of safety googles.

As someone who has always believed my eyes are the greatest of my five senses, I took no umbrage with the later. But, not being in the habit this is where I think I failed to have them on my last day while using the wood planer. So, the idea was that it would probably be best to start from the 101 course at the time of my exit.

And this is kind of the point. Seeking to skip over the fundamentals is generally far from ideal.

Here’s a picture of the block which we were tasked with making in addition to a table and the toolbox (from both sides) from which were to accomplish this.

The fundamentals are the foundation of any skill and one just has to go through them in order to progress up any competency hierarchy.

So, both for the sake of being supportive of my wife and due to the need to return for the fundamentals, I paused my pursuit. It’s as simple as that and I’m glad I did. It was great to get back to China. While back we took a day to witness the old haunts in Hangzhou where I had worked for a real estate developer a decade and a half ago.

There is something eerily familiar and yet dissimilar returning to see what remains the same and what has changed from a place which had been at one time a fundamental part of one’s life. Now, my experience working in China feels more distant than many of my memories from childhood, high school, and college. How that is the case, I don’t know. But it’s a strange trick of the mind … about which I will no longer digress.

Instead, I would like to consider the next point of focus with respect to the purposeful pause. I’ll make that tomorrow’s entry.

Cheers! BZ/JUSTICE SMILES, pllc

Yesterday, I left off indicating that I had started to act toward becoming more involved with Renovo Bikes. In doing so, I put down initial deposits on a booth and the hotel room.

But then I indicated that putting down the money is only the first step. Yes, it shows commitment. It is an act in the right direction. But, it’s a dedication of formerly gathered resources or future credit only.

Putting money on the line still is not getting down and dirty and actually doing the necessary work.

This is really important. I’ve been in the personal development orbit of the Proctor Gallagher Institute and now the Napoleon Hill Institute for almost 6 years and I notice that the vast majority of people pay the money, get the information, but don’t act on it. Why?

The answer comes down to the fact that they haven’t quite found their “Why”?

Now, this isn’t to necessarily say that these folks are in the throes of the nihilistic angst which gave me cause to try personal development at the beginning of 2019 in the first place.

Most people have enough of a why to sustain themselves at their current level.

And that’s kind of the whole point. If you are going to go to the next level, you have to find the why which will make it happen for you.

Want to lose weight? Then think about how phenomenal you will look and feel stepping on the scale after having lost 20 or 30 pounds and fitting into that incredible new outfit … bonus emotional points if this is because you want to look phenomenal for a big event – like a wedding (especially if it is your own).

Want to quit smoking, but can’t seem to quit. Then, take a look at some pictures of those dying of lung cancer and think alternatively about being able to play with your grandkids in the park.

Want to make more money, but can’t seem to get motivated. Identify what that money will buy for you, a trip, a car, a new boat or house. Tie the money to something meaningful.

None of these were really applicable for me, but there was one thing that I did come to realize would be a driver for me.

I envisioned helping create a situation in which I could use the intermediary skills that I have built up helping to bring neighbors to peace as a boundary dispute attorney to bridging the gap between extremely busy fathers and their sons.

I figure that there must be a market for wealthy and extremely busy men to take a break for a long weekend to build a set of bikes with their children.

As someone whose father was and still remains very busy, I can count on a couple of fingers the times when we took a break to do something together alone … and it is a core memory for me.

This was when right between my Junior and Senior year of college we went up to the Boundary Waters are the lakes between Minnesota an Ontario which despite separating the US and Canada can be traveled through and around by canoe with appropriate permit.

I loved it! We double portaged to and through 33 lakes over our 4 or 5 nights in the woods. Only many years – no rather decades – later did I realize that this had really pushed my father too his limit.

Interestingly, I never thought of my father as having any limits. His three stock phrases are:

God helps those who help themselves.

Where there’s a will, there’s a way.

And his all time classic …

Starting is half done.

Notably, I don’t use any exclamation points or other form of emphasis; for him these are all simple facts.

The other time was when I was much younger. I was probably somewhere between the ages of 10 and 12 and I would watch him building the canoe which now is in my garage and is in the picture above.

In my little mind, we built this canoe together. Much later in life he was retelling the details of how he took over the canoe from a relative who decided to abandon his canoe building project and some of the intricacies associated with getting the cedar strips in the right place; setting up the gunwales so that water could easily drain when the canoe is placed upside down; and creating the nylon seat weaves too, and I realized that I really hadn’t made any contribution beyond perhaps the normative … “OK, now hold the light right here.”

For a dentist, there are big expectations as to the exacting direction of lighting, but still not that significant that it warranted acknowledgement. Oh well!

But, this made me think that this could really be a gift of fathers to their sons … and to themselves.

Why the later? Well, sure as sheep shoot, I fell into the same “cats cradle” as my father and worked long hours and wasn’t around nearly enough as I would like as my own children were growing up.

They always say, “they grow so fast.” Yet even when you know that’s the case, it is so damn easy to fall into the old programs that are taught to us by our parents and other key people in our lives.

So, in many regards setting up a “Build Your Own Business” with Renovo bikes in which I help fathers to connect with their kids as they build a bike which can later be a touchstone to the child of the experience every time he or she rides it … that just seems to have a magical quality to it.

That’s it! With respect to building Renovo Bikes … that’s my why!

Now, I have other projects which have other whys, but we’re not talking about any of those here. We are only talking Renovo Bikes.

And I think that this is a good point to insert another point before returning to the be willing to act. You see, upon reviewing my notes further, I realized that before I pursued the Western Design Conference, I had signed up for and had started going to a woodworking course … but then something happened.

So tomorrow, I want to talk deciding when and when not to keep on track of goal performance.

Cheers! BZ/JUSTICE SMILES, pllc

Yesterday, I explained how I learned about the opportunity to showcase a Renovo Bike in Jackson Hole, Wyoming. Today, I’ll talk a bit about the gauntlet of fear to make this happen. Notably, it takes balls … brass balls!

Now first, I should set the stage with the fact that even before Covid, I had been in a quandary about the meaning of life. That’s a good place to check out for maybe a day 3, 4 times over the course of a lifetime. But, it definitely is not the place to stay for 3 – 4 years of ones life or longer.

I have had more times than I care to recollect in which I have wandered off course, but when I realized not too long after I turned 5o that this had become somewhat of a habit and that though I had run the 50th Seattle Marathon in the same year that I turned over to the “the better side of the mid-century mark,” my professional goal had become unfulfilling and appeared increasingly unrealizable.

That’s a bad thing. First, Earl Nightingale summed up in a clean phrase the definition of success:

Success is the progressive realization of a worthy ideal.

Therefore, added Earl, “anyone who is not pursuing a goal is a failure … at least temporarily.”

When the definition of temporary is the same length of time as most people take to get through college, there is a problem.

And the inue of not doing much of anything other than surviving on a few scraps that yet came my way as a result of my legal practice was certainly neither generating enough pride nor money to break free.

Financially, I was deep in debt. But more importantly spiritually I was “less than zero.”

Renovo Bikes was a spark. One I wasn’t going to let someone else puff out. I didn’t know how it was all going to work out, to be honest I still don’t. I just know that I am going to find a way to continue to make enough of a contribution that opportunity flows my way through it.

So, first I checked in with the owner of Renovo and told him that there was an event in Jackson Hole and that I thought it would be a great place to show his bikes. He liked the idea.

However, as fate would have it, that same weekend he was already going to be showing bikes at the Wooden Boat Festival in Port Townsend, WA.

Ok, well would he be willing for me to take a bike to show over in Jackson Hole, WY that same weekend?

I don’t know how long he thought about it, but he said yes … as long as I fronted the entry costs.

Ultimately, I also arranged that if we won any prize money, I would get half of it and he gave me a price point at which he would be willing to release the bike and I could pocket any excess. Neither came to pass, but at least the impetus was there.

Now again, one must realize that I didn’t have a “pot to piss in.”

What does that mean exactly? What’s the etymology of that phrase.

Well, I recollect having looking it up to find that during the early years of the industrial revolution, while seeking to take care of their middle of the night “bio breaks” people would use “chamber pots” and then sell their piss to the tanneries for making leather works.

So, quite literally to not have a “pot to piss in” means that someone is so poor that they can’t even make money recycling their own piss. Yuck!

I’ve never been that poor. In fact, this level of poverty simply does not happen anymore in the US … unless its a condition created by poor choices.

Nevertheless, I didn’t have the money and I was just about completely maxed out on my credit card, but nevertheless I booked both a stand at the Western Design Show and a room at nearby SnowKing Lodge.

That took balls! But, that’s not the half of it. The real guts play came in September when I had to actually move forward. So, pretty soon I will do an installment titled: “Have the Brass Balls to Act Redux.”

Before that though, I think I want to write about adding more “petrol to the fire” … the cultivation of my why.

Until tomorrow, have a phenomenal day.

Cheers! BZ/JUSTICE SMILES, pllc

Last week I chronicled how after learning about Renovo Bikes, through fantasy I realized that a great place to market them would be Jackson Hole, WY. See this blogpost [HERE].

As we start up this week, I want to focus more on an important part building one’s intuition – AKA “the still, small Voice” – by sharing how I noted the meaning in what I perceived as a serendipity … and acted upon it.

My late mentor, Bob Proctor often seized on this quote that Steve Jobs gave in his 2005 Stanford Commencement address [1]:

You can’t connect the dots looking forward; you can only connect them looking backwards. So you have to trust that the dots will somehow connect in your future.

Bob estimates that this is difficult for 97% of the population. We simply are not trained to trust our “mental muscle” of intuition and as a result for the vast majority of people – like any muscle which isn’t exercised – it becomes weak due to atrophy.

For some reason, I am the opposite. I may rely a bit too heavily on my intuition. Somehow in the moment of crisis, I know exactly what to do and say. Yet, in that most of life is not a crisis situation, what I find myself doing is recognizing by intuition what is the proper course and just doing it.

Admittedly, this has resulted in some spectacular errors. But, in the main its created much more good than bad.

Most of the time, now that I am on the “better side of my mid-century mark” – i.e. 50 plus – I tap the breaks a little bit with my reason before jumping right in.

Essentially, I take a moment to reason it through and in doing so provide the “backfill” to determine that my intuition is sound and worth acting upon.

In the light of “My Renovo Adventure,” this involves recognizing this particular serendipity which I am about to relate. …

Early Spring 2024, I visited my folks at their place in Santa Fe.

Now when one is in Santa Fe, there are a few things which are on the “must do list”: (a) Drive up to the Ski Basin; (b) have a meal and sopapillas at Tomasita’s; (c) check out the galleries on Canyon Road; and of course (d) visit the Plaza.

After enjoying a late morning at the Plaza with my brother Rick, we decided to check out where we had both worked in the past – The Camera Shop.

Notably, when we had worked there in the late ’80s & early ’90s, this was actually a camera shop. So, it’s a bit weird to see the same name atop a storefront which is now selling women’s dresses. I don’t know if that is due to some sort of code enforcement of a historical marker, but being Santa Fe … I wouldn’t be surprised.

All of those stucco, adobe houses on the plaza and in the foothills of the Sangre de Christo mountains didn’t just happen without a “nudge” from local government … and this has served the “City Different” extremely well as a point of attraction for its most prominent industry – tourism.

At any rate, after a quick nostalgic look, Rick and I did an about face and went across the street to the French Pastry Shop at La Fonda and had a late lunch which of course was fantastic!

If memory serves, I had a bowl of French Onion Soup and a sandwich on their freshly made baguette. I don’t know what Rick had – but I do know that they were accommodating to his gluten allergy. Because of the later, I think we passed on their phenomenal desert pastries … though I probably picked up something along those lines for my Mom.

Satisfied with our lunch, did we head back out to the street? No.

Instead, we went into La Fonda … and there I met this “Artist in Residence.”

He was just sitting there reading the “Federalist Papers” and so I decided to chat him up because I liked his wooden rocking chairs.

Over the course of the conversation, I indicated that though I hadn’t done any woodworking since Middle School, I had recently fallen in love with the wooden bikes made by Renovo.

If memory serves, I asked him what it took for him to become an “Artist in Residence at La Fonda.” He mentioned that there was a bit of a process and I think there is an emphasis on “residence” – i.e. the artist has to be from or quite close to Santa Fe. So, there was virtually no chance that Renovo Bikes will be appearing at La Fonda any time soon.

But, he then mentioned that he would soon be going to the Western Design Conference in Jackson Hole!

Wyoming, right?!

Yes, of course. They usually have it all booked up several months in advance, but I was able to book a booth about a month ago … you could check it out. I bet you could still get a spot.

Huh! That’s a good idea!

And right here, I should mention that I get “good ideas” all the time. Ideas that I know would be a game changer for people if they were willing to act upon them. And, for some reason I feel compelled to share these ideas with the people for whom I believe they have come to me.

The response? Politely and usually not audibly expressed, it nevertheless almost invariably amounts to … “mind your own business, pal!”

Maybe as a result of this, I am a bit more receptive when I am the recipient of one of these – “you should do …”.

So, that is exactly what I did. First step, look up the program. Check!

Second step, find out if there is space yet available. Answer: Yes, there was. Check!

Third step, find out if I could get a bike to represent there at that time. This is a check as well.

But, I better save something for this ongoing saga.

The reason why is because even though I had gone this far, it’s about having the “cajones” – or as I like to say in an effort to remain unisex – either the “gonads” or the “stones” – to move forward.

So, check in tomorrow to learn about taking that first courageous step.

Cheers! BZ/JUSTICE SMILES, pllc

Note [1]: For Steve Jobs 2005 Commencement Address, See [HERE].

Yesterday, I wrote about imagination and seeking to let it soar. When this is done properly, one can fanaticize about that which one desires. I also paired my message with a picture of an Alaska Airline jet flying over Mt. Rainer. Beautiful!

It was my original thought to follow today with another image of Mt. Rainer and write about how it is always best to “Go to the top of the mountain.”

By this I mean to go to the highest level possible in any organization when seeking to get something big accomplished because “water flows down hill.”

Well, I’m just going to let that be for now because I have an even better thought after my day down with the owner of Renovo Bikes yesterday in which I finished my bike frame.

At the end of a rather long day in which I was largely focused on carefully sanding my bike frame with increasingly higher levels of grit in an effort to best assure that I had minimized cross grain scratches and otherwise made this phenomenal bike frame smooth to the touch, we added the Renovo decals and then I asked if I could have him take a picture of me.

“Sure! Why don’t you sit over there.”

As a not at all incidental aside, “over there” is the last of two parts of a bench assembly that he had been working on since late last year for the new George Lucas Museum in Los Angeles.[1] Pretty cool right!

Fortunately, I had the shirt that my artist friend Charles Sherman had given to me titled: Just Friends. See my 2025.07.04 – i.e. July Fourth – post about Just Friends [HERE]

Seeking to refresh your memory, I indicated in that blog post that I want to use my background in bringing neighbors to peace to a much higher level. I want to help the country to move away from its extreme division and instead come back together in peace.

In doing so, I have become fixated on the 1980’s “Miracle on Ice.”

This is non other than the US Olympic Hockey Team’s semi-final round, 4-3 win against (the by far) top seeded USSR – i.e. Russia – on their path to Olympic Gold!

And what does all of this have to do with Renovo and framing?

Quite simply, to be able to go after a goal. You have to have a clear image of what it is.

The whole US Hockey team had the goal of working together to put as many goals on the board while perhaps more importantly preventing Russia from doing the same to them.

Captain Mike Eurizione had the final goal of the day when he put the puck at the back of the net exactly half way in to the third period putting the US team up by 1.

And that’s when Jim Craig needed to continue his phenomenal goal tending.

I’ll try to pull the stats and add them here in due course, but it was something like 1 allowed goal of 29 shots on goal over the course of the 3rd period … which is absolutely insane!

What’s even more insane was the joy that was released by this victory. From a different broadcaster well before the quip was originated, this is truly “Must See TV.”[2]

Do You Believe in Miracles? … YES!!!

This was the “miracle” that USA Hockey head coach Herb Brooks envisioned and helped all of his young, amateur players to train for in order to secure this win and then the final win against Sweden to secure the gold.

Because the Cold War and generally being sick of the inue of the times, this game brought the US together.

That’s what I want too. I want to do my part to help bring the US together again. Yes!

Let US Be United!

When people from differing political parties are able to move from screwing each other to being Just Friends, this will happen.

And the way that I intend to help in making this happen is by racing a the 2026 Ironman in Lake Placid.

I’ll be wearing Just Friends as a flag during the 112 miles of biking next July 19.

I have clearly framed this as a mental image; this picture assists that too.

What is it that you really want?

Frame it up in your mind and think about it daily and soon you will train your mind to identify that which is needed to attain it. Let’s talk about that further in the next post.

Cheers! BZ/JUSTICE SMILES, pllc

Note [1] – See information about the Lucas Museum of Narrative Art [HERE].

Note [2] – See the last minute of the “Miracle on Ice” [HERE].

The last couple of days I have been sharing information on listening and then protecting one’s “still small voice.” Today, I want to share the concept of allowing the imagination it’s due.

I don’t have much of an imagination you may be inclined to say. I say differently. NO!

We all are gifted at birth with phenomenal imaginations!

That might not be the exact quote by my late mentor Bob Proctor, but it’s pretty darn close if not.

Bob was vying for a monopoly for the word “phenomenal” and he most definitely thought that we all have great imaginations which were God given at birth.

We continue to have and use these great imaginations as children until perhaps first or second grade when we are all starting to buckle in as students. That is extremely unfortunate!

Why would society want to engage in this sort of “mind castration?”

Quite simply, society through the agricultural, industrial, and to a lesser extent the informational revolutions requires most workers to be focused on limited, mind numbing (albeit focused) repetitive tasks.

Now, perhaps not surprisingly, that was not the original intent. The modern school system was conceptually conceived and initially given form by Prussian Wilhelm von Humboldt.[1]

‘Willy’ originally had the idea that not only the elite, but everyone should have the opportunity to develop their minds to their full potential … which is as Bob would describe it … “A Phenomenal Idea!”

But, somewhere along the way his idea was co-opted so as to generate the mindless masses necessary to do all that tedium just described.

Because after all, what is it that we generally learn when we study? Beyond the “3R” fundamentals of Reading, Writing, and Arithmetic, most of schooling involves memory work.

As an aside, this reminds me of a story from Napoleon Hill’s “Think and Grow Rich” in which Plaintiff Henry Ford in a slander trial against a newspaper which had published that Ford was uneducated was being asked under oath to answer a series of “basic educational” questions to see if he was able to regurgitate information which is taught in school. After a series of witty comebacks to a few of the inane questions, Ford indicated that if he needed any of that information he could call upon any number of people to provide it to him and then came in with a question that amounted to a linguistic kill shot … ‘So, why would I waste my time cluttering my mind with all this useful information?’

Why indeed! And now with the internet, we all have access to well beyond basic information.

This then is why there is such an incredible need for imagination.

Oh right, you my dear reader said earlier that you don’t have an imagination.

Au contraire mon frère (et ma soeur), you have a “phenomenal imagination!”

The only problem is that you haven’t exercised it in quite some time, but that can and should change.

Now, with respect to “My Renovo Adventure,” I started to imagine how I could actually go about selling these bikes.

Interestingly enough, as I was imagining it – a process which seems to me to be tapping into my “still small voice” and letting it soar, I somehow got to thinking again about the fact that it was Chase Bank – a huge multi-national, which was effectively promoting micro-bike manufacturers.

This then made me think of all the changes that are happening around Seattle to create bike lanes everywhere creating what I call: “Road Construction Rodeos.”

And somehow, the two of these ideas “had sex” and I started to realize that bike – not automobile use – is definitely consistent with the Green Peace agenda of the “Davos crowd.”[2]

And this then lead me to what only now seems to be the epiphany that I should seek to promote these bikes in Jackson Hole, Wyoming!

What? How did Jackson Hole pop to the “screen of my mind?” It’s because somewhere along the way, I remember hearing that the Federal Reserve meets there each year.[3]

In fact, in my journal in an entry dated 2023.12.10 – 6:50 AM, it states:

I can go to Jackson Hole this winter and seek to market the bike … or at least get ready to market the bike by becoming a local and learning the town.

Looking back on that entry now. I am absolutely floored because my dear reader, as I unwind this tale further, you will find out that while I didn’t abandon my family to live in the environs of Jackson, WY that winter, by the end of the Summer I was in Jackson Hole, at the Western Design Show promoting a spectacular Renovo Bike!

Why? Because I wanted to, I didn’t allow my dream to be killed by others, and I fanned the flame of my ignited desire through the use of my imagination … and you can too!

Ok, today I am off to the Renovo shop where the owner is going to help me to complete my first Renovo Bike build.

I’ll be back tomorrow to distill some more wisdom about this incredible journey. Have a great day!

Cheers! BZ/JUSTICE SMILES, pllc

Photo Credit: Alaska Airlines … which will be our carrier back from our upcoming road trip through the Mountain West to Santa Fe, NM.

Note [1] – For more on Wilhelm von Humboldt and his educational philosophy, See [HERE].

Note [2] – AI Overview – “Davos is important because it is the site of the World Economic Forum’s (WEF) Annual Meeting, an exclusive gathering where global leaders from government, business, and civil society convene to discuss and collaborate on pressing economic and social issues, driving dialogue and potential partnerships to address global challenges and promote a better world. The event serves as a platform to foster public-private cooperation, initiate policy changes, and launch significant initiatives[.] Note to self: I had read Thomas Mann’s “Magic Mountain” with my book club for the January 2024 meeting.

Note [3] – For more information about the Jackson Hole Economic Policy Symposium, See [HERE].

As promised yesterday, I went back to my journal and noticed that I had skipped over quite a bit of information.

A good part of the reason for that is because I want to stand well within the bounds of Attorney-Client Privilege which requires avoiding over disclosure. You know, it’s that old war-time quip: LOOSE LIPS MIGHT SINK SHIPS!

And this is exactly what I want to talk about today. You see when you hear that quip, you are hearing a call for circumspection of speech.

AI Overview: “Loose lips sink ships” is a World War II-era slogan that warns against sharing sensitive or confidential information, as careless talk could aid the enemy and have serious consequences.

Actually, the first time that I heard this was from my wife – a non-native speaker – who works in the boat industry. Except, her restatement had eliminated the word “might” which serves as an attempt to more severely constrict the muscles comprising the oral sphincter.

But why is this important, Bobby? You’re neither talking about war nor the boating business.

The reason why this is important is because when you get that original call from your “still small voice” … like the one that indicated to me that I should check back with the micro-bike manufacturer who was thinking of closing down shop the same day that a bike manufacturer-themed, Chase credit card advert came in the mail … DO NOT IMMEDIATELY SHARE YOUR IDEA WITH OTHERS!

The only thing that could be worse than that is to indiscriminately share the method by which you arrived at your idea. You do that and the people around you will think that you need to have your head checked if not have you thrown into a white, padded cell.

Now, this doesn’t mean that you don’t take note of what has happened. You just keep that information to yourself and only tell someone in a community like the Napoleon Hill Institute – aka NHI.

Oh got it! NHI is full of kooks.

No. I’m not seeking to imply that at all. Instead, what you should draw from this is that the Napoleon Hill Institute is a place where you can share an idea which is brought to you by intuition and it will be nurtured.

In fact, this past Friday on a call called “The Lion’s Den” which is taught by master teacher Dan Mathews whose background includes study in both science and religion, Dan related a story which illustrates the point perfectly.

At inception, that little nudge from your “still small voice” is as feint as a candle.

Yes, it’s burning. But if you don’t protect it, not only can the wind blow it out, so too can the slightest “puff.” And that “puff” can be the slightest criticism from almost anyone.

And right here I am reminded of another master teacher and mentor of mine, the late Bob Proctor.

Bob sometimes related the story about how after he had built up his cleaning business to a multi-million operation in a half decade; and after he had visited for the first time with Earl Nightingale; and after he had been working for Earl as the director of marketing at Nightingale-Conant, he decided he wanted to branch out and do what Earl was doing … build his own personal development company in large part through speaking engagements. So far so good.

Bob then recorded a few of his ideas on a cassette recorder and went to a friends house to share what he had put together on his cassette tape.

Bob related that he was super excited. He hit play and within a moment his countenance had fallen.

His friend didn’t see it in the cards for poor Bob. In fact, as Bob related it, his friend was a bit embarrassed. Bob then exclaimed:

He was embarrassed for me!

Ouch. It’s one thing for people to be embarrassed by you. Often they will seek to discount it as some sort of individual quirk. But, it is quite another to be embarrassed for you.

The meaning that conveys is something akin to … “Oh my, you’re going to have one hell of a time.”

Bob related that he stopped the cassettes’ play and said to his friend as he made his way to the door with a barely audible murmur – ‘Maybe it’s not such a great idea after all.’

But as Bob was driving back home as I remember the story, he said to himself: ‘No he’s not! He is not going to steal my dream. This is my dream!’

Good for Bob! Imagine how many countless 10s, 100s of thousands, and perhaps millions of people who Bob has helped because he didn’t allow the spark of the idea which he had acted upon get snuffed out by his friend.

Now, here we should step back and realize that this friend was very likely meaning the very best for Bob.

That said, the friend couldn’t see Bob’s vision, he just didn’t have the awareness to be able to do this.

Now this Bob has a bit of a different story to tell with respect to who he told his idea and its reception.

I told my Dad. And my Dad’s reaction wasn’t merely some sort of look of incredulity, his instead was more like a Defcon 2 intervention.

Now is not the time to distinguish what I am in this moment going to identify as the 5 Defcon levels of intervention other than to say that a Defcon 2 intervention for me is a level of dissuasion which would still drive most people to tears.

I’ve said it before, I’ll write it here. “My father is a ball breaker!” Enough said about that.

But, I’ve become even more of a ball breaker. Unfortunately, the balls I break almost all of the time are my own. OUCH!

And this might be the most important point to draw from this discussion, when you hear that “still, small voice” try to make sure that the “puff” created by your own voice isn’t the one that blows it out either!

Check back tomorrow to find out where this conversation is going. I’ve got a lot of different conversational paths to take and by then I’ll have chosen one to take.

Now, if you want to join the Napoleon Hill Institute, probably the best way to do this is by checking out our Self-Discipline Camps through this link [HERE].

Cheers! BZ/JUSTICE SMILES, pllc

Image Attribution: This is a war poster for which I have no affiliation, but you can purchase it at Art.com through this link [HERE].

CASE PREP START:  12/2/2023 8:08 PM. Little did I know it at the time, but this would set me off on a set of adventures which is continuing to unfold with increasing positivity.

First, it might be worth to note that my legal business – one that I thought I wanted to shake off but hadn’t – is extremely seasonal. This fact which results in too much time and extremely slight income, coupled with the typical winter weather conditions in Seattle and lack of sun, had me in a pretty deep funk.

Yet, when I took the call not long afterward, I learned of a bicycle manufacturer who was considering dissolving the company. Alright, that’s easy enough, I provided some information about the business dissolution process and thought not much more of it, UNTIL …

I walked out got the mail. In it was a business credit card application from Chase Bank which used a bike manufacturer as the contextual theme. Hmm? This is interesting. Was this a serendipity to which I should pay attention?

Was the Universe seeking to tell me something?

I had always loved bikes as a kid. Another time, I may share a story from when I was young, but what is important to note is that even though I loved bikes, it had been decades since I had owned and ridden one. Sometimes life ends up that way.

We don’t realize it, but there still is that kid within each of us who had something for which they were passionate and except for the very rare few, that kid’s passions were at best abandoned. Unfortunately for some, their passion is actually trampled.

Hopefully, what this story will impart is that you can – and arguably perhaps – you must honor that kid. This is the story of how I did.

Returning, upon seeing this Chase business credit card advert, I felt an intuitive nudge to call the bike manufacturer back to advise what had happened. Yes, that’s kind of zany. Yes, there are some – perhaps most – who would never think to honor that intuitive nudge simply because it is not rational. However, I experienced something very different.

The conversation with this client went fine and we arranged for me to come down and visit his shop.

I was really impressed, but neither my client, nor was I in a position for me to just go ahead and purchase his bike company. There was simply too much of a gap in the resources of time, money, experience, and even workspace to take the business over. But, from the conversation I started to learn about the fact that there are micro bike manufacturers … and in fact there was one that created wooden bikes in Gig Harbor – Renovo Bikes!

Oh!!! Wood. Here again we are touching on a passion from the halcyon days of middle school during a time well before our current age of “we must smote all risk” for children when there was shop class.

I really enjoyed working with wood. My biggest project was a canoe paddle. But perhaps my best was the creation of a model hull of an MC scow sailboat. Mr. Smith, my shop teacher, liked that so much that he placed it in what amounted to the woodworking trophy case.

Interestingly, I abandoned it there. Now, the shop classroom has been converted for standard instruction and unless mistaken, I have heard that Mr. Smith has passed away.

Returning to Renovo, the opportunity to unite my loves of bikes and wood … WOW! That would be awesome!

But, did I act on in right away? … Of course not.

Pretty soon another business credit card advert came in again from Chase. Oh, that’s right … I should really follow up on that. Did I? No! Life was getting a bit busier, and my audacious vision for escape to a life of being a bike manufacturer had been summarily quashed by my ever-practical father.

And he is right, why the hell is an attorney thinking he should go into bike manufacturing?

Nevertheless, the Chase adverts persisted to come in. I kept them all – a total of 5!

I don’t recollect if I had to wait until all 5 of them came in before I made the call, but I did and I set up a meeting.

How about this? I’ll go back through my journals and pick up the trail to figure out what happened next and report the same tomorrow.

So, to be continued …

Cheers! BZ/JUSTICE SMILES, pllc

Last weekend was supposed to be it. I was supposed to have competed in my first triathlon – the Salem 70.3 – 1/2 Ironman. Instead, I ended up “near” the finish line as a volunteer. Want more detail? Then, feel free to read on.

I had made the decision last Fall to go for it and signed up at the prompting of Chris Hatfield … for whom there is no relationship to my role with boundary disputes.

Instead, I know Chris through Seattle Green Lake Running Group. He is a regular for the group’s Wake Up Wednesday (“WUW’) which I inconsistently had returned to in early 2024 after having taken a 4 or 5 year inexcusable Covid hiatus.

A number of years ago Chris had created a spin-off of the club for Triathletes.

Now, as someone who has loved bicycles since my first ride at age 6, I thought that it would be cool to get into this kind of action. So, over the course of several weeks both in an effort to cull information and to slow Chris down to a more manageable running pace, I asked him a lot about triathlons.

I think it was over a post run coffee, I asked Chris what I should look at to sign up.

He mentioned another triathlon here in Seattle that he thought would be good for me, but said the only problem is that the same weekend he would be doing the Salem 70.3.

I said out loud something along the lines of … “Well, why don’t I do that one then.”

Kind of creating one of those simultaneous down chin, raised eyebrow, head cocked to the side type of glances … Chris asked something along the lines of:

Are you sure you want do that? A 70.3 is a 1.2 mile swim, followed by a 56 bike ride, finished with a (13.1 mile) half marathon takes a lot of training!

I recognized that. But, I also knew that a lot can happen in the 9 – 10 months between now and the event. I mean in 2019 which was the year I turned 50, I saw that they were running 50th Seattle Marathon and decided to run it and completed, so how hard could this be … IF I CONSISTENTLY TRAINED?

So, I started off. The first thing that I did was to move from Lake Union’s Flow Fitness which has a great, raked stationary bike room – the group classes of which I had been going to twice a week – to the Olympic Athletic Club.

The folks at Flow Fitness are great, but I needed to get to a place that has a swimming pool and hence the change of gym membership.

As an aside, I did not reconsider going back to LA Fitness. The Olympic Athletic Club has a swim lane reservation system for 2 pools that allows one to get one’s swimming done.

The former has a single pool without reservations. The Ballard LA Fitness does have a spectacular view of Queen Anne, Magnolia, and the Ballard Bridge as a consolation. But again, I wasn’t looking for consolation, I was looking to train for my first 1/2 Ironman!

Swimming at the OAC went really well. Chris has a group of his friends who he gets to compete in 4 categories for aggregate numbers over the course of the month: swimming, biking, running, and overall steps.

Well, in November I won the overall number of yards swam at an aggregate somewhere around 34,000 and I repeated with a win – albeit to a lesser aggregate numerical extent – in January too.

December, I went with my father who was convalescing from a surgery and so my activity went way down and by February and March I had converted a lot of my swimming effort over to riding a bicycle on a trainer, both of which Chris had given me.

I loved it! Especially in February – the month of the “Miracle on Ice” (which for those who are not aware is the 1980 US Olympic Men’s Hockey victory over the USSR in the Semi Finals and ultimate victory over Sweden for the Gold). As I rode the trainer, I would repeatedly watch Kurt Russel playing coach Herb Brooks in the movie which reenacted those events – “Miracle.”

So, things were going along fine. But, it was starting to get past time for me to get off the trainer and to get outside on a bike. And I was eager to because I hadn’t gone out with the original Renovo Wooden Bike (which has finger joints in its frame and Butch Cassidy & the Sundance Kid, Catherine Ross/Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head-style handle bars) that I had purchased after showing the new and improved Renovo Bike last September at the Western Design Conference in Jackson Hole.

Well, I got my chance!

There was about a week long string of pre-summer days in the early Spring. I took advantage of them to get some miles clocked in Chris’ “Hattie’s Bike Challenge.” After all, notwithstanding the movie “Miracle,” it’s not that much fun to do the old stationary bicycle, bicycle, bicycle … and get no milage credit because I am just sitting in place and have been too cheap/poor to go out and purchase a new Garmin watch to pick up the information from the upgraded trainer that Chris had given me.

I went out on my first few bike rides and it was bliss! I’d leave our place in Magnolia, go out on the Burke Gilman Trail, turn off South for a bit at the UW Stadium, and then pick up the 520 Bridge Eastbound until across, go down through Medina and over to Bellevue and come back across over Mercer Island.

Except they were working on the bike route at Mercer Island. Hmm? No bother, I’ll just swing around Mercer Island and pick up I-5 on the other side to head on in to Seattle. I think I did this twice.

The third time, partly because at the North end of Mercer Island is a park named after a contemporary of Edison and Ford that Napoleon Hill mentions somewhat often – botanist Luther Burbank – I stayed to the top and worked around the hazards.

Interestingly, I also recall one of the times two or three police cars came up and went out partially on the path. Requesting to know if I could still use it, the Mercer Island police people – as one of them was a blonde haired, blue eyed bombshell who could just as easily been on the cover of Playboy – didn’t bat a lash as to my use notwithstanding the fact that their lights were rolling. So, I went and I noticed that there was a black man with a sleeping bag/roll that he had draped over his shoulders as if some sort of oversized preacher’s stole who had just about walked the bridge from Seattle’s Rainer Valley.

Hmm? My Seattle neighborhood of Magnolia doesn’t have a bum population that I am aware of, but they are across the ship canal in Ballard. Could it be that this type of policing effort occurs here too in an effort to keep intact our little “Mayberry?” That’s something that I really don’t want to think too much more about … so I’ll bring the conversation back.

On the fourth day of great riding weather, April 15 – Tax Day – to be exact, I was debating whether to go with my wife to pick up one of her sisters who was flying in from China or to go out yet again and enjoy the beautiful sun and of course be serious about my training.

I went to her work at South Lake Union and made the decision to ride the bike and decided to reverse my course by going over Capital and First Hills and then across I-5 before the Mercer Island, Bellevue, Medina, and 520 floating bridge loop back. But such was not to be the case!

I got up to Broadway and while seeking to cross put my front tire in a the trolly track. Down I went to the left. I caught myself with my left had … or so I thought. But, it didn’t feel good.

Fortunately, there were no cars … or worse yet trollies for me to contend with so I pulled my bike to the sidewalk and took a bit of a look at my arm. Hmm? Now I had witnessed a compound fracture occur while wrestling in 9th grade where a teammate’s deep, dark red marrow dropped to the white grappler’s map. Fortunately, that wasn’t my situation. But, my wrist looked a little weird nevertheless.

Ok, so I am only a few blocks from Swedish Hospital. So, I should just go on over right? Yeah! Except, I didn’t have a lock for my bike and my legal intuition makes me realize that very likely once I go into the hospital, for liability reasons I may not be released until properly treated.

Realizing further that space is limited in hospitals, I would likely have to leave my bike outside … on Capital Hill. NO WAY! My car had been broken in and the steering column broken away twice as a presumed gang initiation ritual when I had first come to Seattle in 1992? So, I wasn’t going to take that chance!

Instead, I walked my bike down the hill to my alma mater – Seattle University School of Law. I go to the president’s office and am in luck. His Chief of Staff – David Lance – finds me a bit oddly walking my bike through the School’s hallowed halls and after a moment figuring out what’s up, offers for me to place my bike in an adjoining office which his colleague has vacated for the week on a personal holiday. Great!

Before I go, David offers to have campus security take me up to the hospital. I initially decline, but then think the better of it. So, within a few minutes I meet them out front. We clarify that the “event” did not occur on campus; they take an extra moment to confirm that Swedish is an “in network” provider of my health insurance carrier; and off we go and within a few minutes I’m at the non-emergency, emergency entrance checking in.

Now, I could probably go on a bit about the zoo which is the Swedish emergency section of the hospital, but I have a whole piece I want to do separately about the folks they ultimately referred me to at Seattle Hand. So good reader, we’ll place this on pause and return to the main story line which is …

Bottom line, because of what was a left wrist fracture, competition in the Oregon 70.3 this year was out. Drats!

But, I had already paid for my room at the AirBnB that Chris had organized and I had decided that unlike before where I allowed COVID to serve as a dissuader of my exercise routine, I was not going to allow this wrist injury to dissuade me from pursuing the triathlon. So, I decided to follow through and go back down to Salem.

Wait what? “Go back down to Salem”?

Yes, see my wife, kids, and I had all been down there back in for the August 21st, 2017 total eclipse. We had done that really spontaneously!

Fairly briefly, we got to Salem two days before this event and amazingly my wife was able to find a hotel room that for the night would take the four of us and our little Yorkie – Tobby.

The next night we were on our own, but fortunately my son had the presence of mind to throw in a tent and sleeping bags and the city opened up Bush’s Pasture Park to the public for the overnight prior to the eclipse.

And was it worth it?!

Oh my goodness, yes! Totality is in my opinion a “God codifier.” It was spectacular!!!

Now returning to last weekend, because my wife had what was going to be our last full family summer party on Friday, I sacrificed one of my AirBnB days and arranged to go by Amtrak on Saturday.

As it turned out, this meant that notwithstanding taking the 8:55 train to Portland, I had to wait until 5:00 that evening to take and Amtrak bus from Portland to Salem.

I was able to use the time in Portland to have lunch at a close by open air food market where the entertainment is a Drag King …

I also take the opportunity to check out a Cal Skate Skateboarding …

And before it’s time to get back to my travels, I even go across the river and down to the OMSI – Oregon Museum of Science and Industries.

Finally, I catch the bus; get down to Salem; and as I am on my bike; I set off for the AirBnB and that’s when I realize where I am … at the entrance of Bush’s Pasture. Wow! My son had just turned 21 last weekend. How could it be that we were now almost 8 years since the eclipse!

I remember back to that time and how I had wanted to make sure that we all got together for the next “great American eclipse” … which had now already occurred over a year ago on April 8, 2024. Where had all that time gone? Now, both kids are adults.

I take some pause and pictures as I go through Bush’s Pasture to think of what was; what should have been; and most importantly … what must happen in the future to purposefully change a course in which I had been insufficiently active in the lives of my children. It’s disheartening. I feel the empty ghost of the happiness that we could have had much more of if I had acted on better choices in the interim.

Riding on, I finally figure out where the AirBnB is. Because the competitors have to get up at 4:00, I sneak into the house. But I do have the good fortune of meeting Santiago who though not competing is also there for the weekend. He’s volunteering and offers for me to be his “volunteer’s volunteer.”

Maybe because of seeing Bush’s Pasture Park and all the associations that go with it, I don’t sleep as well. So, I am up and see competitors Chris, Deb, and Jonathan off in the morning before going back to relax ahead of going out with Santiago to the volunteer spot at 6:30.

Santiago has a huge frame tent that we roll from his car to the aid station where we will be over the course of the day in Minto Brown Park. There is a lot to do!

Because of the nature of the Salem 70.3 running course as a sort of pretzel, our aid station serves runners almost a mile into the run; another 6 or 7 miles later; and then finally just shy of a mile before the finish line.

Water, Ice, Coca-Cola, “nutrition” – both natural and artificial – are set up along the path’s edges for all three leg’s of this station. I also help to get all of the monster tents off the path which resultantly often means that a half of each of them are in the brambles. I also notice that the locationing of trash cans is not well organized, so seek start getting that figured out.

Result? I was nominated as the “trash man.”

That didn’t bother me. I’m used to sliding into unfilled roles – often thankless – roles. I just do what seems to need to be done.

As a result of this attitude though, after the leader’s come through for the second time, I realize that in the not too distant future we will be seeing them for the last time … and the water station for that leg still was unset-up and unattended. Good!

I slide into action, setting out and pouring cups of water and get to offer the leaders aguanation as they power though on their last of over 70 miles that day.

As time passes, the trickle becomes a bit more steady though generally still one at a time. And then the volume starts to balloon from there. More help comes over and I end up being able to hold out and directly offer cups of water for people to grab mid-stride. It’s fun!

This goes on for a long time!

After quite a bit of this, the first portion of the aid station is shut down. Because of cut-offs, it’s a certainty that nobody will yet be coming through. Santiago had been working that station originally, he’s now over cheering the folks who are on their last leg and he makes a suggestion … ‘Why don’t you go in and see what it’s all about at the finish line?’

I take him up on this offer and run back with my garish pink volunteer shirt passing a few of the competitors with my fresh legs. Fortunately, as I get up to the shute leading to the red-carpeted finish line, there is a point where I can exit.

I make my way to the finish and watch for several minutes to witness several 10s and maybe even a couple of 100s of people have their names called out as Salem 70.3 Ironmen. That’s got to be pretty awesome!

I get a bit more of a sense of the immensity of the event when I make my way over to the transition station – “T2” – where all of the bikes had been stored.

Still, I am not seeing anyone of the Seattle competitors. I figure that’s about right … if I had just finished an event like this, I would probably eaten whatever they supplied at the end of the race and made my way to a place where I could sleep.

A few minutes before the start of the victory celebration after the official close of the race, I get a call from Santiago. He’s broken down the tent and is ready to drag it back to his car. So, I run back the mile back to the transition station, say goodbye to the other volunteers, and we share turns dragging it back along the path to the car.

As we are doing so, we see a few stragglers and initially off in the distance the “sweeper” – a cart to assure that all competitors get back. It’s going slow and now competitors are on it – much better to cross the finish line on one’s own recognizance even if the official time records a DNF – “Did Not Finish” – than to surrender.

Santiago indicates they will likely still receive a medal demonstrative of the effort.

We get back to the place, go out to dinner with the competitors for a pizza celebration, and later all have a drink in Chris’ room. Santiago is going to be off early the next morning, Jonathan and his wife, and Chris & Deb decide that they will probably leave a little later in the morning because there is no rush just to get into Portland morning rush hour traffic … and it would seem to me that relaxing after a long race is appropriate too.

Chris, Jonathan, and I venture the hot tub after our soiree at Chris’ room. They indicate that if I am going to successfully follow through on the Tri-Cities 70.3 in only 2 months, I REALLY need to get my training ramped up … probably a minimum of 7 work-outs a week!

Breaking it down further, it would be best to get in about 3 bike rides, at least 2 runs, at least one swim, especially because I don’t have any open water experience, and at least a couple of days of strength training each week.

In fact, they add that I really should be at minimum adding 2 core workouts each week. And it certainly wouldn’t hurt if I added an additional workout for all three of the race’s events … while assuring that I get proper recovery nonetheless.

YES! I have quite a bit of work ahead.

They acknowledge that each of those runners, even the one’s that looked incredibly exhausted at the end of the race, had been training 6 months for it.

The task ahead is indeed immense! We close things up and say our goodnights.

I sleep a little bit better, but still wake up early. My return ticket is at 5:00 PM which would have me arriving in Seattle at 10 minutes before 11:00. I look at the train schedule and realize that there is a direct at 8:55 AM that if I am lucky enough to get on will get me in somewhere around 2:00.

I decide to go for it. Pack it all up and sneak out of the house at 7:30. Down at the train station in a half hour, without going back through Bush’s Pasture Park, a few minutes before 8:00, I go to the ticket office and explain my situation.

The clerk checks my ticket, the bike, and the schedule and indicates I can get on the 8:55 with the bike for an additional $38 – the difference between tickets. It’s the last one. Smiling and telling him that I was on the last ticket north from Lacey/Olympia on the same Monday train a week ago, I add: “Yes, I take it!”

With plenty of time, I decide to go for coffee. Interesting spot. The coffee shop is in what was previously a funeral parlor – IKE Box.

At the door, a gal helps me hold the door as I push my Renovo Bike through. As recompense, I offer to buy her coffee. She says that she works there. “Oh, then you can buy my coffee,” I say jokingly. To my surprise, she says: “No problem!”

I don’t know what to order, but ask if she has anything akin to a (spicy) Mexican coffee. She comes up with the idea of a milk chocolate, hazelnut, something else and then yet beyond idea … which is incredible!

I enjoy it a lot. I also enjoy the art on the wall. I take this picture to showcase a Renovo in front of it.

And I notice some skateboarding images too. Hmm? $100. I wander/wonder as to whether I would be able to arbitrage these at the Portland skate shop. Just a joke. I’m focused on getting back to Seattle.

I go past many of the Capital buildings on my way back to the train station. I try to see if I am able to find the place where my brother and I had stopped on a weekend adventure that we had taken together after the 2017 eclipse while Jenny and the kids had been back in China, but can’t find it. I settle for putting up this picture here as remembrance which appears on my feeds on occasion.

Soon, I am back at the train station. After some additional waiting, I go out to the platform with all the others. There are 2 of us who load up bikes and soon we are northbound. It’s a long day of travel with delays, but I do get to Seattle mid-afternoon. This allows me to bike back home during the day with sufficient time for dinner.

As my son is not there and my wife has a client who had made an extra large catch, we have crab for dinner. Between having crab on the table or my son at the table though, it’s no contest. He’ll be back at college the first weekend of August and again I realize how short the time is that we have left this summer.

I realize while it may be a mere 2 months before the Tri-Cities 70.3, it’s a mere 2 weeks before he’s on to his penultimate year of college. I don’t know where the time goes? I do know that $38 was a cheap purchase of half of the last third of a day. If I hadn’t made the earlier train, both my training and production the next day would also have been eclipsed.

Cheers! BZ/JUSTICE SMILES, pllc

I rode over from my home to the starting line and ended up the last heat released.   I was riding a new, borrowed Renovo upon which the owner had placed a comfortable seat and had a front saddle bag which I somehow had been successful at my attempt to put on a sleeping bag. Nothing was planned; just trusting the universe!

After the first mini aid station there was a huge block climb and the bike derailer somehow stopped up and got pulled into the spokes. Fortunately, one of the ride’s aid racers went back to the aid station and told them I was coming back because he was closing down the station. I ran back with the bike on my shoulder and he took a look. The gearing was expensive Spanish stuff, so James of Wedgewood ‘s (mend) bicycles – who related that he had taken his first loan at his neighborhood US Bank branch where I had worked at the turn of the century – unfortunately didn’t have the tools to help me out. He also had to get back to the shop soon because it was about to open.

Unfortunately, I didn’t have the presence of mind to ask him to remove the pedals from my Renovo Bike so I could add them to the bike that my wife was bringing over. She had indicated that there was no pedals and in fact sent this picture. How it was that I forgot to pull them off which would have been a simple grab of a wrench and two twists … I simply do not know. It was a significant oversight, but it allowed me the opportunity to get to know some really great bike mechanics … from more than just one shop. Nevertheless, knowing that my wallet was on the way, I tipped out James with what otherwise was the only legal tender on my person – a $20 bill.

—-

Before getting the diagnostic, I had called both my wife and the race aid car with the intention of meeting at the next aid station – the IKEA in Kent. Notably, I had forgot my wallet, so I requested my wife bring it along too. Overall, she was displeased with this effort which was not only a risk but in her mind a complete waste of money, but I was determined nevertheless. She relented and helped me out. Something that I appreciate a lot, but don’t generally express my gratitude to her properly.

When the aid car came, I realized that they were close to pulling the IKEA aid station. So, I found the closest bike shop and asked them to take me there and asked wife Jenny to abort IKEA and bring the pedaless alternate bike to me at this bike shop – Leschi’s Polka Dot Jersey.

I switched bikes with Jenny and had Roman – who is French which I guess is appropriate because this was my present equivalent of the Tour de France – tune up the bike and put some regular petals on it. He didn’t have clips, so I left my bike clip (shoes) and set out to find the nearest shoe store wearing just my socks. Not pleasant because the pedals have some slight bumps which started to feel like full on spikes as I started going up the Madrona hill … and eventually just started walking socks to pavement.

I came upon an Eastern European accented gal and she said that there was a bike shop just ahead. Hmm? That meant that I could abort the shoe shop “Bait” on Capital Hill and stopped in and Alex at 20/20 – a community bike shop that serves hot chai to anyone that wants it outside their store had the pedals which when confirming with his buddy Roman at Polka Dot Jersey put them on my bike and wished me well – since I now had my wallet I reminded him that I still need to pay. Alex thanked me for being an honest man.

So, now – yet with my socks on and off the bike depending if going up or down the hills, I was back to “the bike surgeon” – Roman at Polka Dot to get my clip shoes and back on my way.

Ok, by now I am totally solo and would have no more race support until catching up to Chehalis which was right after the midpoint of Centralia! Good.

Having slowed down my thought process and realizing the gargantuan task ahead, now I did have some presence of mind. So, I purchased a phone mount and lights for night travel at the Polka Dot Jersey with Roman and his partner James (which is pronounced kind of like those muscle truck engines – “Hemi”).

I stopped at the IKEA – where there was absolutely no sign of STP bike participants – and had a big meal sometime around 4:00. Swedish meatballls – 12 of them; peas; mashed potatoes; Lingonberries jam; a side of Macaroni and Chese and some other broccoli/potato cake type thing … oh and the apple juice that I drank in line.

I was able to start charging the lights while I ate … but not enough as I would later find.

Oh yeah, I almost forgot to mention it, but notably before getting to IKEA I was on HWY 167. That might actually be illegal. Later, somewhere around Puyallup I also went onto a Highway. I don’t know if this is illegal, but it certainly is not common. I don’t think I have ever seen any bicyclists on highways in Seattle. Notwithstanding the wide side lane, there is rocks and junk everywhere and cars and trucks speeding past. Riding my bike along a highway is not a habit I intend to cultivate … and yet I had done it twice in one day. Hmm?!

After Puyallup, I had to figure out how to meander on down to join the course because I was way past the window to get through Joint Base Lewis-Mchord.

I checked in with my father and son by text from Lacey. My Dad offered to pick me up. This was good. He didn’t demand it or treat me like a little kid – which though that is quite likely the way I should/was being perceived. I told him I was probably going to relax … as it turned out I decided to keep using as much of the setting sun’s afterglow as I could.

Oh right, I think part of the reason why I took this break to touch base was prompted by a fairly odd event. See, not long beforehand, I witnessed what looked like a black spray painted pickup do a full 360-degree fishtail at an intersection where there were other cars! This was just a bit east of Joint Base Lewis-McChord (“JBLM”). I think that made me consider that riding close to where there may be drunken servicemen on a Saturday night might be a risk that would be – to use the name of Bernstein’s book – “Against the Gods.”

I pressed on though, Yelm; a small gas station which was the totality of McCrae where Tracy helped me get more water and I saw an electronic age of cigarette purchase allowance date which still had my son’s birthday on it.

Then down to Rainer which had its drive through McDonald’s open to 1:00. I got a cheeseburger, McChicken, Medium Fries, and a Medium Shake and walked over to a ditch between it and a car wash.

I put the bag down and spilled the fries. By this point I was more hungry than proud – and of course no one was around anyway – so I ate the fries off the ground – still fine … and hot.

The water now gone from Tracy’s McCrae, I went back to get some water. The shift manager called out to someone to say that they did better than yesterday. $19,400 v. $19,300. Ok, good money. My father had suggested I consider getting a franchise, but that didn’t go anywhere – no interest.

With the water in hand I want back to the ditch where my bike and water bottles were. I switched things up and took the final sips of the remnant water in the McDonald’s cup, and noticed the car wash’s electric sign say the date and 11:59. I tried to get my camera out and take a snap, the next rotation though was not my son’s birthday, Just then, midnight and the picture didn’t produce the light display anyway. Oh well, moment was gone.

I set off out of Rainer and got not much further than passing under a small bridge before my front light dimmed. Ok, I thought this was my time to get a little bit of sleep. Notably, I hadn’t slept well the previous couple of days and I was tired from riding. My clips were not comfortable either.

There was a nice community sign (which I recollect “Nisqually”) behind which I stashed my bike and because I had a hard time finding somewhere to rest against the wall because too many roots/removed off shoots, I took a space blanket (because now no sleeping bag) and laid it out along the side of a converted rails to trails bike path and did my best to sleep for a bit. No more than 2 hours rest, probably less than an hour and a half and I realized that my sleep was so light as to be virtually worthless. I wanted to get my lights and phone charged. So, I packed up and saw an obviously vacant for sale house which had an electrical outlet up at its front door (under  its Ring). I came up to it from its white, wooden deck and started my electric pirating effort. I was probably there about 40 minutes. Charging my phones were really slow, but I wanted them so I could use the race tracker the next day. Highest priority was to get at least enough juice in my front and rear light to get to and through the sunrise.

I left at 4:00 AM and started biking the bike trail. I remember going over a bridge at one point and later going through an area dark and seemingly overgrown with trees. That’s when I broke off down to the street.

It was pretty cold out. I only had a Renovo Bike top over an undershirt and shorts on. My legs are never a problem, but my arms were quite cold with the cool morning breeze chasing past as I rode my bike. I thought to myself, David Goggins and Wim Hoff would think nothing of it and maybe I can use this as a memory to assist for later in the day when the weather was to be in the 80s … so, I persisted all the way to Tenino. When I got there I realized that my rear light had fallen off! Here again the Universe had my back, not too many cars on a Sunday morning and they all gave me adequate distance. Next destination Bucoda followed by Centralia.

Centralia is where all the 2 day riders had stayed. I thought I might even get there by 6:00. Not to be!

Just outside of Centralia, after having noted something on the race map about a railroad track (or at least so I thought), I took a left and crossed what I thought to be said railroad track.

Pedaling, pedaling, I kept going until I came upon some industrial smelter operation, it was massive. My feet hurt, so I decided to take a break. Time now – 6:34 if recollecting. Damn I will be behind everyone again.

I get going again and ride up and over a massive hill and then get to the top of another and I realize there is no way in hell that this is the race course – I’m lost! So, I go back down the second hill and the first hill’s backside is an even greater bear and I go and get down to the valley and see another bicyclist – Chris – on one of those bikes with a massive box coming toward me on this otherwise desolate road.

I wave Chris down and he says that he had been released from his duties at the Chehalis aid station and was going back to Seattle on this backroad. I ask him how to get to Chehalis. He points north to where I came. Oh boy … and OK.

So, I ride back the way I had gone, past the industrial plant, past a dog that chased after me, but stopped after I increasingly loudly yelled no, No, No! Past a road angled off which I think would have been a short cut, but I didn’t dare take, and then past the initial railroad tracks … and low and behold from this angle I could see the sign for Centralia ahead! Ahr! I get into Centralia it’s now past 8:30 and I decide I am way too exhausted and late to press down to Portland. I can’t imagine getting there before the 9;00 cut, so I go to the train station in Centralia. Sorry, no bikes going up to Seattle until Wednesday. I call my Dad defeated, it looks like I will take you up on the ride after all, I’m in Centralia.

But, then the conductor indicates that there is a train tomorrow from Olympia that he can get me on going it if will to go up 30 miles to pick it up there. He then told me something very significant … this ticket was not only one that would allow me to go back with my bike, it was going to be the last ticket for the entire train!

I buy the ticket with the bike out of the Lacey/Olympia Station.

I call my father back and tell him he doesn’t need to come and the plan. The rest of the morning I am kind of falling in and out of sleep as I sit upright in one of the many old-style station, wooden segmented seats in the Centralia station.

About noon, I decide to get moving and so go out and find a coffee shop. It’s a few blocks away and ironically called – “The Station.” There I order a 20 oz. mocha and their signature panini – a ham, triple cheese, and pesto with what seemed like homemade ruffle chips – “the station.”

Finished with lunch, bathroom breaked, and now my water bottle and Western Design Conferenced coffee canister both filled with water … I’m off.

Now, recollect that I have dirty socks and all my clothes haven’t been changed. But, I do have a clean shirt and shorts and two pairs of clean socks along along with the race map in my Renovo bike jersey pouch.  Also, instead of having sent a bag ahead to Portland as everyone else had with the STP, I’ve got a waist belt filled with an extra inner tube and air jets as cheap insurance (which fortunately) I don’t need to use, my second phone, eyeglasses, 3 chargers (though only 1 charger block), and of course – because of my lovely wife’s earlier help – my wallet.

I set off. It’s hot. But, this is roadway I’ve now traveled before. Including of course the turn where I get lost.

Throughout, I’m wondering if I might find the back, red light that fell off sometime between Raanier and Tenimo … it didn’t happen.

Well, I get to Tenimo after a few stops by the side of the road to let my feet rest. There was a second person who asked if I needed help … besides my Dad. I get in and at the first gas station get water. Going out I ask about “the bike trail”. Just that way! Not fully believing I ask someone else in the neighborhood who tells me exactly how to get on it. Good! I’m going on it up to the town Ranier. So, past a lake that I want to jump into and by now I am probably going no more than 2,3 miles before taking a foot break. I notice though that there are two places that I can turn northwest toward Olympia. The second one looks more direct, so I expect to take it. I’ll look for the first one though and decide. It’s just after a river.

Well, I find the river. A father and a son are on the bridge looking out over the other sides of it. Not going to declip, I call out a few times “splitting the gap, splitting the gap.” On reflection now, that may be what this adventure is really all about. Returning though …

I pass a bunch of other kids on the bridge too. One jumps off right before I pass. I hear the splash; it’s not too far down, but it’s not immediate either.

I keep going and I see a few benches on the left. Time to rest my feet. I stop and realize this is the first turn. Now I understand, it’s a bike trail – Good. Sign says something about the Chehalis bike trail – 14 miles to Lacy – or was it Olympia – I don’t know. I do know that this meant that I am about half way on this day’s ride. Oh boy! Do I really need to do this? Probably not if I am going to sleep under the stars a second night. But, considering how restful that was last night, despite the cost, I might want to avoid it. As I’m getting ready to set off, some people come down from that way and stop at the benches. They say that if I keep going just to the other side of I-5, I’ll find the cheap hotels like LaQuinta. They are not far from Evergreen College.

Many stops along the way. I doubt less than 6; almost certainly not above 8. At the last stop on the trail, I figure I am close enough that I better figure out where I am going to stay. The suggestion for a place close to me is 4 miles if I continue by the bike path or a bit over 3 if I again take to the streets. 3 sounds like a doable press, it’s a Comfort Inn. I call to make a reservation. It’s a rebuttable presumption that he is not at the front desk of the Olympia Comfort Inn. I am disinterested in opening up my bike belt to pull out my credit card after being enrolled for free in their lifetime rewards program. He insists. Purportedly there are only three rooms available. On a Sunday night? That seems incredulous to me, but I relent. Ok, question. How far is it to the Lacey/Olympia Station? Let me see. That’s 10.3 miles. What?! Oh non, no let me look at that again. “Mr. Robert it’s only 5 miles away.” Still something to do in the morning I guess. I book the reservation.

Starting to pack it up a kid of around 8 comes up and does a fishtail. He then rounds my bench and starts to go up the embankment. As he is doing this another kid and a Dad race their bikes right up the embankments too. Hmm? Finally, Mom rides in straight up. By now the gate is open, they all pass through. Dad closes the gate and looks around as if I’m not right there and off they go. The functional, yet inartful , wood gate has a no trespassing sign on it. Wow! that would be cool to have a property that accessibly adjoins a rails to trails pass.

I set off and after my 3 mile street ride get to the  Comfort Inn. Check In take my bike to the room strip down, throw my T-shirt and socks in trash and hang out my stinky Renovo bike jersey and joggers shorts to try to dry them out and take a shower … or perhaps 2 or 3 showers without those pesky towel offs. The tub which wasn’t drawing has a ring of dirt at the water line. Feeling clean, I go to bed at about 8:00 in my birthday suit – alarm is set for 7:00 and 7:20.

I wake up quarter after 5:00 and (re)learn that their breakfast bar opens at 6:00. So, that’s when I go down … barefoot with my trash bag of T-shirt and socks just in case I need them – the socks.

I ask at the front desk. Her language skills didn’t seem to compute. My trash goes in the trash and I have the otherwise sub-par eggs, sausage, cubed potatoes … but refrain from the biscuits and gravy. The biscuit and the gravy are both cold – no good. I do try the mini waffle maker – 4 came out, but I only ate one. I’m impressed by the apple juice. The granola was fine. Of course, it’s very hard to make a hash of 2% milk and oranges. Cherry yogurt. Second try at coffee. Now it’s not lukewarm and instead hot – good!

I go back to my room and rest. About 8:30 I decide it’s time. The two pairs of socks are on my feet now. I’ve tightly rolled my bike jersey, plastic bagged it and put it into the Western Design Conference Canister – not an easy task. I roll up the shorts and put them where I had initially planned to hold a canister of suntan lotion. Awesome! It all fits.

Time to check out? Not quite. The front desk has a toothbrush and paste. Done. Then I find out they have a razor and shave cream. Done again!

I’m off. My garmin picks up the full ride to the train station. I get there a couple of hours but have absolutely no complaints and just hang out in what I come to find out is a volunteer train station.

The train comes 11 minutes late, but that doesn’t bother me a bit. I am just happy that I don’t have to continue to ride the remainder of the trip back to Seattle. My intention is to figure out new bike (shoe) clips ASAP because my feet feel horrible.

Soon it’s time to board the train. But, of course I get a chance to first deliver my bike and in the process see what the luggage and bike carriage looks like. I’m impressed.

I get into Seattle not long after 2:00 and retrieve my bike. The journey is close to over now, but not quite. I will have to ride from the trains station back home. I take a few lingering moments to enjoy before I set off again. It’s 2:24 when I step out of the station and start to ride. I go down to the Seattle Waterfront and up to Magnolia along the West side of the train tracks. Several hulls of Boeing 737s are on flatbeds as I come up to Magnolia’s Thorndyke. I think it would be cool to have a picture … and then I dismiss the thought. I just want to get home.

When I finally got home, I saw this as the center piece on the table and then again at my folks place, and actually (un pictured a couple of “bushes full” as I took a walk with my younger brother and his dog …

Chinese Baozi & Easter Lilies. ❤️🙏❤️😇

Cheers! BZ/JUSTICE SMILES, pllc