Exhausted at the Start Line

I have a knack for spreading myself too thin. In the past, I'd work extensive hours, spend the time I could with my wife and kids, and try snagging a few miles on the bike here and there in preparation for a few scattered pedaling events. More than once, I've found myself at the start line of a long race thinking how I could really use nap!

For the past couple years, I have wanted to build a cedar strip kayak in order to better take advantage of the big waters around Wisconsin. I have a pulling boat that was perfect for the current and waves on the Mississippi River (one oil tanker I passed, south of Baton Rouge, threw a bow wave that was over 6 feet), but I needed something I could put on the roof of the car-a kayak. I also feel that the next leg of the Great Loop, from the Great Lakes watershed on out to the Eastern Sea Board, warrants a different boat. It's just the nature of the story line that has already been established through the Big River Trifecta. New Chapter, new boat.

I also need a shop. I could use the shop at Gimme Shelter Construction where I work, but I feel the impulse for something closer to home and more personal, where I can host groups, friends, and classes. So, about a year and a half ago, I began the process of outfitting an old barn just two blocks from my house, at the Tomorrow River Homestead. Half of it already had a concrete floor and menial insulation, but the other half was uninsulated with meager lighting, rotted flooring, and one electrical outlet.

So far, I removed the animal stanchions, replaced some disintegrated flooring, built a wood shed out back for firewood, ran electricity for outlets and lighting, insulated the ceiling, and installed

two new(ish) doors and a window. I still need to install two wood burning stoves, a couple more windows, and do some insulating, but I am almost at the starting line. My goal is to wrap up

those items and build the kayak by April. I'm really hoping for February, but I know how my reality goes-about twice as long as my expectations.

It has been a intense and busy summer. Many ups and downs, but work on the barn has progressed. Now entering the Autumnal transition, I still feel the weight of the previous day's fatique as I rise in the morning, but I'm motivated by how I can see, not the finish, but start, of this next odyssey. It all starts right here, right now.