Author: christianwbrown

16 February, 2018 – Las Grutas to Trelew via motorcycle, 333 km / 207 miles – 4-minute read

We ran out of gas yesterday – almost. The motor began to stall, with just enough to get us into the gas station. Where there was an orange cone in front of the pump. And an attendant who tried to wave us away, then flipped over the sign saying “No Hay Nafta” – there is no gas.

Suddenly we understood the 10-car line at the gas station we’d passed earlier; the attendant told us that was the only place to fill up near the town, 15 km back along a road when we had already used the reserve. But I was lucky, and begged him to try for just two liters, which he was able to get the pump to cough up. We were able to drive back to the station this morning, waited our turn in the long line, and got the gas we needed.

I spent the morning puzzling on it. When I flipped over to my gas reserve I was at 214.8 miles, which is within 0.2 miles of exactly what I expected. But then I ran out within 50 miles, when I should have had another hundred miles of fuel. I couldn’t figure it out, and that worried me.

Today we ran at 75 mph for the first couple hours, catching perfect road through the desert. Traffic was sparse, and the few big trucks we encountered were easy to pass.

Was it the gas tank and reserve being swapped? After the carburetor work in Colombia it felt like I had a smaller main tank, and more in the reserve. Or was it the choke? It’s been sticking since Bolivia, and I have a spare because of that, but I thought I’d broken it free in Buenos Aires. Maybe it’s something else? Air filter? Clog in the tank?

I spent the hours puzzling, then felt the engine sputter – at only 155 miles from our morning fill up. Getting worse, not better, then.

A YPF appeared in less than two miles, and I pulled us in with relief. At least we wouldn’t run out this time. But our day was supposed to be 8 hours today covering more than 425 miles — it was going to be long if I had to stop three times for gas, especially if we hit lines every time.

We talked over lunch, deciding eventually to stop off in Trelew, splitting our 8-hour day into two shorter ones, so that I could try to fix the bike. I thought about trying to find a local garage, but I knew what I needed to do, and had no confidence in either my ability to explain it nor in a guarantee of things working well for the next few weeks — and we need the bike to work well for this stretch through Patagonia. It will be cold, and rainy, and desolate.

I drove around Trelew, and was happy to find a motorcycle shop that Google said would be open. It wasn’t; everything here seemed to be closed from 1 p.m. to 5 p.m. for the world’s longest lunch hour. After checking a couple shops, a gas station attendant referred me to the client he was pumping for, who recommended Carrefour, where I found car batteries (in the second, larger Carrefour), but no motorcycle batteries, but did find a nice guard who recommended a battery shop that would be open during the afternoon if I drove that way for a few blocks, then turned left on Colombia street and drove for a few blocks till something something words I didn’t understand in Spanish.

Surprisingly, it worked. I drove along Colombia looking for a battery shop, and it was open in the afternoon, and had the battery I needed. I had to take off two body panels and unbolt the saddle to figure that out, but by the time I drove away, my motor was starting better than it had in… ever. One item of the prep-for-freaking-cold-riding down on the fix-it list.

The second was bigger, changing out the choke on the bike from the standard wire-and-lever system to an after market push-pull mod. I’d been avoiding it because I dreaded taking the tank off the bike. It seemed like a big task. It wasn’t. Removing four body panels, the saddle (again), the tank, replacing the choke, putting everything back on – one hour.

And tomorrow we try again. I may need to wash the air filter, but I feel more confident to do that now. I’ve made two changes to the bike today, and she runs better than before. As important, I feel substantially better about fixing the bike myself. It’s a bit late for preparation, at the end of this trip, but maybe there will be another grand ride in my future…

PS – There was a dinosaur statue on the way into town. Apparently, I’m Owen Grady.

15 February, 2018 – Bahia Blanca to Las Grutas via motorcycle, 416 km / 258 miles – 1-2 minute read

As it always does, our third day – today – saw us settling into life back on the road. We were lucky this morning, with a small kitchen in our apartment-hotel, and had a big breakfast of eggs (which we made ourselves) along with mixed fruit and other goodies from the breakfast buffet. Days beginning with eggs are better.

The road was, well, rough to begin with. Third day or not, having 30 mph cross winds makes for hard riding. We’ve been riding across what I’ve come to think of as Argentina’s Texas – hot, flat, windy – but ending, tonight, with a beach town.

I have to say that I’m loving my new fork brace. When we were in the mid-northern regions of Argentina, we hit a windy day, and spent the whole day fighting to stay in one lane, cruising at about 20 mph just to keep from becoming a semi-truck hood ornament. We had time to watch the birds flying overhead (flapping hard to stay still) and the goats (one baby goat tried to stand up, and was promptly knocked over by a particularly strong gust), but after seven hours we were halfway to our planned stop and exhausted, and stopped off at a little set of cabins, ending the day with a movie on our computers. The memory was great, actually, like so many times when things go wrong while traveling.

Still, I wouldn’t want to have that life-risking type of experience frequently, so in Buenos Aires I installed a front fork brace, and lowered my fender from beneath the headlight to just above the tire. What. A. Difference. It’s like riding a sport bike – better turns, much steadier in the wind. I’m still very careful passing semis, but at least I don’t feel as much like I’m about to cruise under their tires.

And we had a treat today, for the second half of the ride – we turned from west to south, and the wind that had been trying to push me over from the right suddenly was an amazing tailwind. 75 mph and felt like we were going 45. Amazing.

Till we ran out of gas, and so did the gas station. But I’ll fix that tomorrow.

This is going to be short: we travelled from a beautiful little family run hotel this morning, through moderate heat and high winds, and then I worked a couple hours to finish up a milestone on an ongoing project. I’m happy for the work and the 334 km (208 miles), but at this point I’m too tired to be good company – so we’re going to settle into comfiness with the takeaway we just bought and a movie, and then I’m going to get some wonderful, wonderful sleep before doing the same tomorrow.

13 February, 2018 – Buenos Aires to Ushuaia via motorcycle, 326 km / 203 miles – 1-minute read

The first hour of any journey is exciting, whehter a trip to grandma’s house or the end of the world. Motorcycle trips are the same, and the beginning of our drive from Buenos Aires had me feeling good – the day wasn’t too hot, the bike’s running well, we had plenty of space – and I thought, “Damn it’s good to be back on the road.”

Of course, the first hour is followed by the second, and the third; the initial optimism is damped by sweat, gusts of wind from passing semis, and the inevitable reminder that riding a motorcycle for long periods of time is uncomfortable. Very uncomfortable.

Oddly, that’s part of why I do it. I know that for any stretch of road, the first day will be rough, and the second will be even rougher, but if I’m lucky, on the third I have a breakthrough where the stress fades, and I discover the shade of green created by sun through alfalfa fields, the moist scent from a storm a hundred miles away, and the feel of the road twisting beneath my tires. Unlike most of my everyday life, I find myself present.

This morning we left our home of six months. The apartment was a happy home for us, and though we’ve been melancholy while packing and saying goodbyes, this morning was bright – Buenos Aires is part of our past (and future, I hope) but our present is the road to Ushuaia.

13 February, 2018 – Buenos Aires to Ushuaia via motorcycle, 326 km / 203 miles – 1-minute read
The first hour of any journey is exciting, whehter a trip to grandma’s house or the end of the world. Motorcycle trips are the same, and the beginning of our drive from Buenos Aires had me feeling good – the day wasn’t too hot, the bike’s running well, we had plenty of space – and I thought, “Damn it’s good to be back on the road.”
Of course, the first hour is followed by the second, and the third; the initial optimism is damped by sweat, gusts of wind from passing semis, and the inevitable reminder that riding a motorcycle for long periods of time is uncomfortable. Very uncomfortable.
Oddly, that’s part of why I do it. I know that for any stretch of road, the first day will be rough, and the second will be even rougher, but if I’m lucky, on the third I have a breakthrough where the stress fades, and I discover the shade of green created by sun through alfalfa fields, the moist scent from a storm a hundred miles away, and the feel of the road twisting beneath my tires. Unlike most of my everyday life, I find myself present.
This morning we left our home of six months. The apartment was a happy home for us, and though we’ve been melancholy while packing and saying goodbyes, this morning was bright – Buenos Aires is part of our past (and future, I hope) but our present is the road to Ushuaia.

“Failure isn’t fatal, success in’t final; it’s courage that counts.” — (generally attributed to) Winston Churchill

Failure may not be fatal, but it certainy isn’t fun. And today I reached a failure point.

Like most failure points, this one didn’t start today. I think it actually started two weeks ago, when the potential client I had arranged to teleconference with didn’t show up for two hours. That’s a bad sign, but I ignored it because, honestly, I was excited that this could be my first $85/hr project. I was willing to overlook a lack of professionalism in order to make a little more money, and set myself up at a new rate.

As of right now, I don’t really regret that. But I did ignore a signpost.

The next signpost was the same — another missed meeting– but this one came while I was already billing the client… so, I thought, “It’s okay. He misses a meeting, but he’s paying for the time. It’s a little frustrating, but no real loss to me.”

Similar was the flood of defocused, forwarded communication. He was in communication with an approvals and listing agency, and instead of sending me his requirements on the job, he forwarded me the dense back-and-forth without any summaries. Unprofessional, a little time consuming to sort through, but again, the client was paying for the time.

He didn’t respond to some of my questions, crucial for moving the project forward. Frustrating, but I filled the time with the other aspects of the job. Then, he did reply, but being tacked into the dense forest of other forwarded messages, I missed it. That one reflects very badly on me; I apologized and moved forward.

Another missed meeting. More time that the project isn’t moving forward, but hours are being billed. His loss, not mine, right? Wrong.

What I should have paid attention to there was that it all meant my client wasn’t getting full value for the time he was purchasing. Was it my fault? Well, partially yes and partially no. But ultimately, and more importantly, it reflected on my work.

So when I got a message that he was concerned about our overall progress versus cost, I shouldn’t have brushed it aside with a list of original projections and breakdown of current hours, showing how close we were, in my mind, to the schedule. My intention was good, and the tone was polite and professional, but I didn’t really shift over into his perspective. As a young guy (27) who was obviously not very professional, he definitely wasn’t considering the hours he’d chewed through with the inane (yes, I’m a bit angry) emails or multiple missed meetings. So, while I thought I had sufficiently addressed the concerns about productivity with the breakdown and clear steps forward, the air between us wasn’t clear.

Today’s meeting shouldn’t have been a surprise. After going through the list of items and questions about the project, he brought up his concern about our ongoing project and the total cost versus achievement. At first he simply requested that we change all the future projects over to fixed price, quite reasonable from his perspective, I’m sure. But with all the lack of communication and issues, there is no way that I’m going to let the guy waste my time and expect the same end product at the same cost. He’s obviously uncomfortable with the idea of continuing as we are, even with more detailed communication about hours for each task and closer tracking of where time goes. We ended today’s conference with him requesting I hold off on more hours till we have a chance to discuss estimated hours for additional aspects of the project.

And I came off the phone feeling like I’d been punched. I felt like I’d failed. Not in a huge way, but enough to where my income goals are shot for the month, and I have a quite unhappy client on my hands.

What I’m thinking right now is that I’ll refund half of the hours for last week, send over the files with some minor tweaks to make the progress on the project clear, and tell him to find another freelancer. It’s the only way I can think of to a) make sure that my client feels relatively good about a relatively bad situation, feeling that he at least got value for the money spent, b) keep my ratings intact, which allows me to spend so much less time bidding jobs, and c) avoid having to deal with this guy anymore.

Any thoughts before I pull the trigger? Have any of you had similar experiences?

I’ve realized that writing in this blog is important. Not for my readers (you three are really great, thanks for reading), but to keep a sense of perspective about what I’m doing. Day to day I’ve found myself wickedly discouraged by how things in the business are going, and without taking a step away, making less money and having more risk — being an entrepreneur– can make you feel pretty idiotic.

January and February were busy months, and by March I felt like my life was tipping too far towards work to be balanced. I cut back and joined CrossFit, something I’d been meaning to try.

It was great for a bit, but as my focus shifted I didn’t pay attention to the fact that while I was completing work, I wasn’t bidding much work. I stayed busy but didn’t keep the pipeline full, so by mid-April I was starting to run dry. With a trip to Hong Kong to cover visa regulations (good trip, but pricey city) and a ticket home for a wedding (not mine)  this summer, I’m hitting a low spot on cash reserves (small cash cache, so to speak).

The last week or so has also been interesting because I finally got the drip irrigation emitter prototypes in. The initial tests were dark, very dark. With that being tied as my largest job (and the other still in machining), if they don’t work I can’t afford a refund. I was very seriously contemplating quitting and trying to find a nice, stable corporate job I could work at and pay off my loans.

Honestly, I haven’t ruled that out completely. But a great thing happened up in the mountains Tuesday morning, when Nin’ta and I were sitting on a guesthouse deck overlooking a jungle-upholstered valley. Coldplay’s Viva la Vida came on while I was trying to get a handle on my worries.

The lyrics of that song have always gotten to me, the idea of a fallen king now sleeping in a tiny room and sweeping the street for food — and being okay with it. Life has ups and downs, and sometimes it’s a fight. But it’s vital that we keep a grander perspective on life, and step away from our struggles and imagine the larger epic of our lives.

“I used to roll the dice,
Feel the fear in my enemies eyes…
Now in the morning I sleep alone,
Sweep the streets I used to own.”

Maybe things are good for a while, and maybe not. But every event is part of our own story, and it’s important to own our stories, perfect or not, because these are the only ones we get.

There’s a classic Sufi story about an ancient king who was immensely powerful, but like all of us, had his ups and downs. He gathered the wisest of his advisors and asked that they make him a magic ring that would make him feel better when he was sad. After a year of trying all their spells to no avail, they finally cast a simple gold ring inscribed with four simple words: This too shall pass.

“There’s no such thing as the real world – just a lie you’ve got to rise above” -John Mayer

Your world is negotiable. What you perceive as normal will cause the world to conform, if your conviction is strong enough. For major change, you’ll need incredible strength, which often throws us off. But nobody lifts 500lbs on their first deadlift, and no one can be expected to cure cancer with their first try. The worst mistake is assuming that even small change will be too difficult.

I’ve never liked conflict. Even as a baby, I’m told, I didn’t cry and complain as much as most babies; I didn’t cause problems. When I was eighteen I took a personality test that determined my motivation was “primarily peace”. And there is nothing wrong with peace, as long as healthy boundaries are maintained. But sometimes minor conflict now yields amazing benefits.

“Si vis pacem, para bellum. [If you want peace, prepare for war.]” ~Bonaparte

I woke to a disturbing message from Mint: my bank account was over-drafted. Worse, it had four overdraft fees. Four! At thirty-five dollars each, I was being charged one hundred forty dollars in one lump sum, the same amount I’d just spent on a round-trip ticket all the way to Hong Kong!

Now, I’ve paid my share of fees to banks. In the past, I would have looked at this, determined I was bad for not paying attention, decided that the bank was fair for punishing me, and felt guilty for being bad with money. The consequence? Guilt and a low bank balance.

Today, I decided that the bank re-ordering my transactions so that it could double the fees wasn’t reasonable. I decided that paying $35 because of a small mistake and hanging returns (foreign ATMs don’t post immediately) was something forgivable, and that I would fight to have the fees removed.

(On a separate note, it’s not just forgivable, but also very avoidable, so I’m going to keep a $500 cushion in each account for now until I have a better system to track spending.)

So, I called up Wells Fargo. The first customer service representative was helpful, and instantly offered to remove one of the fees, plus half of the other three. That was an $87.50 credit for a 3-minute phone call!

But I wanted the whole fee removed, and I decided to keep pushing. I asked for the remainder of the fees to be refunded, which required her to speak to her supervisor. She came back apologizing for both the hold and the fact that she couldn’t credit any more back to my account.

I thanked her, but wasn’t ready to let go, and asked to speak to her supervisor. A few minutes later I the supervisor reiterated his subordinate’s offer. I explained the issue with the hanging returns, and again asked for the full refund. Two minutes later he was quoting me a reference number and promising the full $140 refund within 48 hours.

That is the most my time has ever earned. It wasn’t difficult, but it did require me putting aside my fears and old assumptions. More than anything, it makes me wonder, what else would change in my life if I were a little less reasonable?

Special thanks for Ramit Sethi for inspiration. Try this yourself.

I just bought a book on Amazon, the money being automatically withdrawn from my account, causing me  a moment of doubt stemming from several years of always thinking about the expense of a book here and there and what it might do to my savings. And then I thought of how things have been going and felt profoundly grateful that I really can afford the book, that I’m earning significantly more than I need for my daily expenditures, that I can enjoy a new novel guilt free.

This month has been rough. It turns out I was weak on something I had thought would be very easy — getting parts made. It should be just like shopping, right? Wrong. Oh, so, so wrong. The first really big job I landed will be a month behind schedule soon, mostly due to difficulties in acquisition. I’d figured on getting quotes from three shops and presenting them to my clients with a recommendation. In the end, I contacted a total of thirteen gasket companies and nearly as many machinists, just to find three of each that could provide real bids for the parts.

Needless to say, it took longer than expected. Also needless to say, my clients are less than thrilled about the current pace of work. My only hope now to right the job is to keep things at a fast trot from here in, provide a correct schedule, and see what I can pull off. On the plus side, my worries about the parts not working have been put aside.

Beyond that, this month has been stressful. I have another project, also slightly delayed, that I’m balancing against two new projects. And with the delays, I know my income won’t be as high as I’d predicted.

But, at the end of the day, I am actually learning a lot about business, specifically now about task management, which I’ll write more about soon, and part sourcing. And I’ve just been able to buy a new book to read. And that’s pretty good for a new business.

…said a woman both blind and deaf, a woman who became a well-known author. And then Helen Keller became the subject of a pop song. Still, she had a hundred years of less infamous publicity.

I reverted to some bad habits in work during the crunch in the first half of January. My days were long with gradually decreasing focus; I worked most days; I didn’t take time for reflection. Yesterday these caught up with me and I found myself stuck in a mental loop of trying to decide which pressing thing to do, while questioning if I had everything in mind that needed to be done. I was trying to hold too many things in my mind at once, and paid the price with about three hours of wasted time.

What’s worse, though, is that I’m certain this has happened to a small degree as I’ve built up more projects. When you’ve only one or two projects, steps are clear. But when the number of “next tasks” increases, more time is spent on organizing, and less on doing.

So I’m trying out the Get Things Done approach. Yesterday I began the process of emptying my mind of the things in it, keeping a browser open with just Trello and a list. Everything that came into my mind I wrote down so I wouldn’t have to remember anything. After a short while, it was incredible how much more relaxed I became.

Today I’ll download the book and get started. And today I’m grateful for yesterday’s feelings of crisis, for the motivation to change. Just like in any area, it’s overwhelming my current system that’s forcing adaptation and growth.