This adventure had been more than a year in the making. It felt surreal when it came time to buckle into our helicopter seats. We had high expectations, which were blown out of the water with the incredible reality. We. Kayaked. On. A. Glacier!
A year ago today, I saw the night sky for the first time in more than a week. My temporary home had been an ice-rated expedition ship, grunting to Antarctica and back during the frozen continent’s summer. It was wild … Continued
Then, I started thinking about the auction industry I serve. I don’t have enough fingers to count the times a client has tried a project I’ve wondered if they should’ve declined. Those are the times when I get this phone call or email: “Hey, I’ve got this auction. I’ve never sold one of these before. How would you market it?” They’re hoping I’ve helped another auction company sell something similar.
I hope that wonder leads you where it leads me. If it doesn’t, I’d really love to know where it does lead you and how it inspires you.
I don’t know that I felt courageous at any point on that river. Until my ungraceful exit, I just kept focusing on the frothy, incessant rapids. You could make the case that my adventure was cut short. I wouldn’t argue, but I left with both contentedness and determination to one day finish. I told Mark that I got what I came for: a story.
I chose to move to Lynchburg and have fallen in love with it enough to call it home. I don’t think it’s a stretch to say that my wife and I are factors in my sister and some of our closest friends emigrating to what we lovingly call “LynchVegas.” Here are the selling points with which I would counter the Lynchburg skeptics.