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Breaking Up With Social Media. . .Making Up With Social Media

It’s all about the algorithm.

Pretend for a minute that you don’t use social media. Okay, maybe think about someone you know who doesn’t use social media. Have you ever wondered how they manage it? Have you asked them?

My guess is that they will say they don’t miss it.

I have many deaf friends. Many of them have been deaf from birth. If you ask them if they “miss” being hearing, they will look at you like you are asking a completely nonsense question. They understand what it means to be hearing. They understand the concept of music. But, most of them don’t “miss” what they didn’t know.

Do you miss not being able to speak Mongolian? (Assuming you don’t speak Mongolian.) Probably not. It’s not something that you probably ever think about.

People who don’t use social media are kind of like that. They don’t miss what they don’t know. It doesn’t come up that often.

I like social media, but only selectively. If you look at the signature block at the end of this post, you’ll notice I have accounts on Facebook, Twitter and LinkedIn. But, if you try to engage me on Twitter, you’ll probably wait a long time for a response. I don’t do much on Twitter. The same used to be true for LinkedIn. I’d check it every few weeks, at most. The notifications would pile up and I’d quickly glance over them and dismiss them all.

I wasn’t engaged.

Facebook was a different story. I like politics. And there were several groups, some about politics, some about comedy, some about Star Trek that I was fairly active in. I would log in multiple times per day. I’d remind myself to go through the notifications in reverse order so I didn’t miss any. I would spend. . .let’s just say WAY too much time. But, I enjoyed it. And it was engaging.

A couple of weeks ago something changed. I kind of “broke up” with Facebook and started dating LinkedIn. If you’ve read my posts from the past week, you know I lost my job. Facebook isn’t going to help me get a job. LinkedIn will.

At first, it was hard. I had several active threads going at any one time on Facebook. But, as I consciously spent less time on Facebook, a funny thing happened. My list of notifications shrunk. What might have taken an hour a few weeks ago, now took 30 seconds. I open Facebook, scan the half dozen notifications and then maybe browse the newsfeed for a few minutes and log off.

What happened?

The algorithm happened. When I was actively engaged, the Facebook algorithm fed me more of whatever I was consuming. And as I engaged with more people, Facebook showed me more people. It’s a feedback loop. When I stopped engaging, the algorithm had less to offer me. And by not making comments, I had less threads to make comments on.

LinkedIn was just the opposite. I now stay logged into LinkedIn through the day. I send in-app messages to people. I comment on articles. My notifications are now filled with relevant stories, or threads based on what I’ve been looking at and commenting on.

The more I did on LinkedIn, the more LinkedIn’s algorithm gave me to do. I would imagine Twitter would be the same way. Because I’m not active on Twitter I don’t get pulled into active discussions on Twitter.

So, if you want to breakup with social media, be it Facebook, Instagram, Snapchat, etc. simply step away. The algorithm will react and the less involved you get the less involved you will get.

And if you want to get in touch with me, you’ll likely catch me best on LinkedIn. (At least until we break-up.)

Stay safe

Rodney M Bliss is an author, columnist and IT Consultant. His blog updates every weekday. He lives in Pleasant Grove, UT with his lovely wife, thirteen children and grandchildren.

Follow him on
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or email him at rbliss at msn dot com

(c) 2021 Rodney M Bliss, all rights reserved

Preparing To Get Fired

I remember a time when I was ten.

My mom got fired.

I did NOT get fired. I got laid off.

When you are ten, the difference is hard to understand. It’s not that much different when you are an adult. Employment is a lot like marriage.

My first real job was with WordPerfect Corporation. I took advantage of voluntary layoffs when WordPerfect was going through a tough stretch before Novell purchased them. I was leaving to go to Microsoft, the company most responsible for WordPerfect’s tough stretch. WordPerfect was not happy to let me go to Microsoft, even though there wasn’t much they could do.

It really reminded me of a divorce. I was leaving for a new partner and my current partner was NOT happy with it. Just like a real divorce, we both lawyered-up. Fortunately we stayed out of court, but it was touch-and-go for a while.

A manager escorted me to my desk to oversee me cleaning out my stuff.

Eric, you’ve known I was leaving for a week. I’ve known I was leaving for two weeks. You think if I was going to steal something I’d have waited until today to do it?

Eric was a good guy. It wasn’t his fault. I didn’t steal anything either.

From WordPerfect I went to Microsoft. I loved working for the Evil Empire. It was a chance to go home to the Puget Sound area and also it was a great place to work. After nine years I ended up in the wrong job. My manager’s manager fired me. Not “laid off.” I was straight up fired.

Again, the marriage analogy appealed to me. This time, SHE wanted a divorce. And she kept pretty much everything. I was devastated.

At that point I realized that I had an unhealthy relationship with my employer. You shouldn’t marry the company you work for. You should do the best job you can for them, absolutely. And you should work for their success. But, you should not tie your personal feeling of worth to the company you work for.

I did that with both WordPerfect and Microsoft. After my breakup with MSFT, I resolved to remain celibate, as far as jobs were concerned. I approached each day at each job as if it would be my last.

Maybe to explain a little. I still had long term projects. I looked at my future with the company. I was definitely engaged. But, I kept a very clear line between “work” and “non-work.” For example, while at Microsoft, I freely used the address [email protected] for everything, personal or work. So, when I was fired, I was stuck with some services tied to an email account I no longer had access to.

I recently got laid off from Teleperformance after 7 years. It was definitely unexpected. I had a meeting at 2:00pm and by 2:30 I was locked out of the network. (As I should be. Not faulting them.) But, it also meant that I had no access to anything online. I still had my laptop, since I was working at home. They wanted it back, but I got to keep it for a few days.

Still, there was nothing on my laptop that I wanted. No personal files. No emails. No pictures. Nothing.

I use dropbox to keep my personal data. So, I kept none of it on the laptop and certainly none on the network. I also accessed my personal email (rbliss @ msn.com) strictly via a web page.

My web browser was set to save zero passwords, cookies or history. Yes, it meant that every time I rebooted I had to manually log into all my web pages. But, it also meant that I had no worries about someone getting my laptop and accessing any of my personal data.

Of course, I also set my own bitlocker password, but the point is, I was prepared to leave.

“For five years it went on like that; goodnight Westley. Sleep well. I’ll most likely kill you in the morning.”

– Dread Pirate Roberts

For seven years I was prepared. Like Westley, it was a wonderful time for me. I was learning networks, project management, whatever anyone would teach me. (Okay, some I knew before hand.) And then came the day that The Dread Pirate Roberts made good on his threat.

But, since I was prepared for it, I was able to move on quickly. So, unless you are Steve Jobs, or Bill Gates, it makes no sense to marry your company. Instead, act likely Westley, learn all you can, make yourself valuable. But, also be prepared for them to kill you in the morning.

Stay safe

Rodney M Bliss is an author, columnist and IT Consultant. His blog updates every weekday. He lives in Pleasant Grove, UT with his lovely wife, thirteen children and grandchildren.

Follow him on
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or email him at rbliss at msn dot com

(c) 2021 Rodney M Bliss, all rights reserved

Is Your Job Search A Build Or Buy?

It’s a classic tradeoff that every project manager knows: build vs buy. Should you pay for a product, or should you have your own developers create the product? There’s no right answer, of course. If you need an operating system? Obviously, you buy it. Need a product that stores your custom data and displays it in a custom interface that no one else on the planet needs? Yeah, that’s a build decision.

But, other times the decision is more nuanced. There are great CRM, or customer relationship management software. But, many times the CRM systems are not as customizable as you need. Do you build or buy?

Of course, it depends.

I was a program manager and a project manager. I’ve lead teams through the build/buy decision many times. I now find myself facing a unique build/buy decision.

As you know, if you’ve been following along here for the past week, I lost my job a couple weeks ago. I took a little time off, dusted off my resume and have been applying to various jobs. Of course, I also reached out to my friends. Some I’ve spoken to often over the years. Others were friends I haven’t seen in years.

One friend works at a company I applied to. We reconnected and talked about the position.

Another friend suggested a different route. He works with a company that has identified a need for some of their clients. His company can’t meet the need. He wants to set up a new company to meet that need. He has the sales guy and the tech guy and he just happened to need a project manager guy.

So now what? Do I jump back into a traditional company? I’m used to those. I’ve had great success at them. Oh, and I’ve gotten laid off and fired a couple times too. Or, should I strike out on the independent route? Should I team up with my friend and help build a company? The potential rewards are higher, but so are the risks. . .sort of.

When a startup fails, you don’t get fired. But, you are out of a job. Same difference.

So, here I am: do I go the route that already has the “product” built? That has a strategy, a service, staff, copiers, org charts? Or, do I “build” my own? Create the strategy, start the service, rent the copiers, define the org charts?

It’s an interesting problem to have. At least I’ve been trained for it.

Stay safe

Rodney M Bliss is an author, columnist and IT Consultant. His blog updates every weekday. He lives in Pleasant Grove, UT with his lovely wife, thirteen children and grandchildren.

Follow him on
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or email him at rbliss at msn dot com

(c) 2021 Rodney M Bliss, all rights reserved

Nobody Starts Out As A Great Writer

Often they don’t even start out as good writers.

I’ve been writing for a long time. I written some good stuff. I’ve written a ton of garbage. But, one piece of writing stands out as one of the worst things I’ve ever written. Even now, 40 years later, it causes me to cringe and give thanks that no one will ever see it. It was during my high school freshman English class.

Our instructor was a wonderful woman named Ms. Thomas. Even back in 1980 she was a Ms. Not Miss. Not Mrs. Ms. Thomas. And she was a great teacher. I had her again two years later for AP English. I might have one other class from her, I’m not sure. I credit much of my current skills to her classes all those years ago. She helped me a lot.

And I needed the help.

“The Most Dangerous Game” is a classic short story by Richard Connell, published in 1924. The story is well known. It tells the story of a man shipwrecked on an island where he is hunted by a Russian aristocrat. “The most dangerous game” both describes the game the two characters “play” as well as the fact that human are the most dangerous animal, or game, to hunt.

It’s a brilliant story. If you missed it in school it’s worth tracking down a copy and reading it. Really wonderful stuff.

It was assigned at the beginning of our freshman English class and we were give the assignment to write a report on it. I’d never written a book report or a story report. I had no idea how to write a report on it.

So, I went with what I knew. I was very familiar with the classic essay style. You know, where you have the introduction paragraph that includes the topic sentence. Then, you have 2-3 paragraphs that support your thesis and finally you have a concluding paragraph that restates your main points.

Now, had I written a report of The Most Dangerous Game in classic essay style, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. No. Instead, I decided to apply the classic essay style to Connell’s excellent short story.

A short story is about as far from a classic essay as you can get.

Having compared his work to my “standard” and finding it didn’t fit, I went on to write a report on how terrible Connell’s story was. I still remember my final line,

“For the reasons stated, The Most Dangerous Game will never be known as a great story.”

Oh, the arrogance of youth. I don’t remember what grade I got on my critique. I don’t think Ms Thomas was heartless enough to give me the grade I truly deserved.

“I think I shall never see

A poem so lovely as a tree.”

– Joyce Kilmer

Kilmer may be right about trees and poems (honestly, I heard this as “street” instead of poem, but both make the point.) The important point to remember is that just because a poem cannot be as lovely as a tree, doesn’t mean that a poem cannot be lovely.

Just because a story doesn’t fit the form of an essay doesn’t mean it’s not just as well written as an essay.

Think about this when you are leading people. Who is “lovelier,” a sales guy in front of the customer every day or a database administrator who never interacts with anyone?

“Everybody is a genius. But, if you judge a fish by its ability to climb a tree it will live its whole life believing that it is stupid.”

– Albert Einstein

Stay safe

Rodney M Bliss is an author, columnist and IT Consultant. His blog updates every weekday. He lives in Pleasant Grove, UT with his lovely wife, thirteen children and grandchildren.

Follow him on
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or email him at rbliss at msn dot com

(c) 2021 Rodney M Bliss, all rights reserved

Managing Via The Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle

HEISENBERG UNCERTAINTY PRINCIPLE: The position and the velocity of an object cannot both be measured exactly, at the same time, even in theory.

Werner Heisenberg was a German physicist. In 1927 he articulated the Heisenberg uncertainty principle. He was talking about physics. He was trying to study particles, electrons and things. He realized that he could figure out where a particle was supposed to be, but not where it was headed. Or, he could calculate where a particle was supposed to be going, but not where it was at any one time.

Heisenberg is not known as a great management guru. In fact, this may be the first time Heisenberg’s uncertainty principle has been used to talk about management.

I hiked up a mountain a couple weeks ago. I was exhausted afterward. I remember sitting in my chair. I had removed one hiking boot, and I was waiting to remove the other one. Waiting for what? Waiting to get the energy to remove the second boot. So, I just sat there, arms on my knees, one boot on, the other on the floor. It was a picture. Sort of Norman Rockwell meets Joe The Plumper.

But, if you took that picture what would it tell you? Was I getting ready to go hiking? Or was I just getting done? You could know my location, but not my direction. How often does that happen in our lives?

It happens all the time on social media. You see the cool picture of someone in some exotic location. Are they having a good time? Or, did they just have to pull the kids together and hope to get one where no one is throwing up?

You don’t know. You can’t know.

The same thing happens with direction. I saw a news story over the weekend. It stated that 70 Washington DC police officers have recently retired. You know the direction, but you don’t really know the position. Is 70 a lot or a little? I don’t know. The story didn’t say. Direction, but no idea if 70 was high or low or about average.

I’m a big Louis L’Amour fan. Before he became a Western writer, “Duke” LaMoore had a lot of jobs. At one point he got a job digging post holes. The holes were foundation holes for military buildings. Most guys on the crew dug one hole per day.

Duke wasn’t most guys. Duke and one other guy on the crew had a competition. They could both dig two holes per day. One day Duke and his coworker finished their first holes by noon. They were taking a brief break, leaning on their shovels. Just at that moment the foreman opened the door to his office and looked out at the crew. He saw two of the crew leaning on their shovels.

I’ll have no loafers on my crew. You two are fired!

Duke and the other guy both got canned. It wasn’t fair. And it was all because of Heisenberg’s uncertainty principle. The foreman couldn’t know both the position and the direction that Duke was going.

Keep that in mind when you open your office door and look out at your crew.

Stay safe

Rodney M Bliss is an author, columnist and IT Consultant. His blog updates every weekday. He lives in Pleasant Grove, UT with his lovely wife, thirteen children and grandchildren.

Follow him on
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or email him at rbliss at msn dot com

(c) 2021 Rodney M Bliss, all rights reserved

The ETW Train Came By Today

Persons attempting to find a motive in this narrative will be prosecuted; persons attempting to find a moral in it will be banished; persons attempting to find a plot in it will be shot.
– Mark Twain “Introduction To Huckleberry Finn

Just a short story or maybe a metaphor. . .or a parable. Or maybe just a few hundred words strung together

Milan looked down the deserted train platform. The sun-baked boards remembered the heat of the day, although the sun was sinking in west. Shadows clawed their way from the small station house out toward the edge of the platorm.

Milan squinted his eyes against the sun. This was not a trip he wanted to take, but one he knew all too well. Removing his hat, he mopped his forehead with a large purple handkerchief that materialized from the back pocket of his well worn jeans.

He wore lace up boots. Some called them miners boots. Milan wasn’t a miner. He simply wore them because he liked the feel of the boot tight around his ankles. Riding boots never really appealed to him. He’d never been much of a rider anyway.

His handkerchief disappeared back to its home in his pocket. Running a hand through his short hair, (he’d finally gotten a “summer” haircut last Saturday) he fit the hat back on his head and took the two steps to the only bench. It was securely bolted to the boards that made up the platform, as if to protect it from someone wanting to steal it. As if anyone would find a wind and sun worn bench something to desire.

The large clock on the pediment of the station house slowly ticked off the seconds. 8:25. It was late for a train to still be running. But, Milan wasn’t worried. On the contrary, it was with a sad resignation that he knew the train would be pulling through.

Barely had he sat down when a distant whistle let him know that the unseen train was making its approach. The sound of the whistle still hung in the air when Milan spotted smoke from the approaching engine.

“Right on time, unfortunately.”

Wearily he got to his feet and stepped forward to meet the oncoming train engine followed by the various cars. The engine hissed and steamed as the massive machine slowed to a stop. Milan admired the massive steam beast and made his way back past the coal tender, to the first passenger car.

The porter, a black man with an immaculate uniform topped with white gloves was already placing the footstool to aid him in stepping up into the car.

“Welcome, sir. So good to see you again.”

“Don’t patronize me. You know I despise the very sight of this monstrosity.”

The porter took the comment in stride, almost like he was expecting it. He even managed a chuckle in his response. “Yes sir. No one much wants to see us, and yet, here we are.”

“Yeah, and whose fault is that?” Milan sniped.

“The train goes where it’s called, sir.”

“Except, I’m not the one calling for it. So, don’t expect me to be excited to see you.”

“Of course not, sir. But, we are delighted to welcome you aboard.”

Milan made his way to his seat. He had his choice of literally any seat in the car, but force of habit sent him to the third seat from the end, next to the window, the fading sun blazing through.

“Do you have any new baggage, sir?”

Milan glared at the porter in disgust. Again, the man seemed impervious to Milan’s sour mood.

“I have to ask, you know.”

“I assume you’ve still got my previous baggage?”

“Yes sir. The baggage car is just behind this one if you’d like to check on it.”

Milan didn’t bother to respond simply staring out at the dying sun.

“ALL ABOARD,” he heard the porter needlessly call out. A few minutes later the train lurched forward as the large metal wheels fought for traction on the iron rails.

“All aboard the Emotional Trainwreck Express!”

Stay safe

Rodney M Bliss is an author, columnist and IT Consultant. His blog updates every weekday. He lives in Pleasant Grove, UT with his lovely wife, thirteen children and grandchildren.

Follow him on
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or email him at rbliss at msn dot com

(c) 2021 Rodney M Bliss, all rights reserved

The Fallacy Of The Greener Grass

“The other man’s grass is always greener

The sun shines brighter on the other side

The other mans’ grass is always greener

Some are lucky, some are not

Just be thankful for what you’ve got”

– Petula Clark “The Other Man’s Grass (Is Always Greener)”

A young man had a good job at a local auto parts store. The young man wanted to pursue a career as an auto mechanic. It wasn’t a particularly hard job. There was plenty of downtime waiting for customers to enter the store.

But, the young man had a brother. His brother was working at a big box store. His brother was making $1.00 an hour more than he was. So, the young man quit his job at the auto parts and went to work at the big box store.

The grass was greener.

But, the problem was that instead of a job with a lot of downtime that let him learn more about cars, he was now working pretty much non-stop unloading trucks for his entire shift. The auto parts store didn’t have breaks because the entire shift was pretty much a break. Now, his breaks were carefully monitored.

Did he make the best choice? Was the grass really greener?

This is a picture of my neighbor’s yard.

And here’s a picture of my yard.

I’m not bragging when I say that my grass is definitely greener. If you drove down the street I stood on to take the picture, you’d agree that my lawn is definitely greener.

But, that’s not the whole story. Here’s a closer look at my neighbor’s lawn.

It looks a lot like the view from the street.

But, here’s a closer look at my lawn.

Sure, my lawn LOOKS green from the street. But, when you get closer you can see that my neighbor’s lawn is actually in better shape than mine.

Clearly the color of the lawn is not the best indication of how healthy it is.

Jobs are like that. I was recently laid off after seven years at my previous employer. During my time at my company I had plenty of opportunities to pursue other options. I never really gave it any thought. Oh sure, I looked at other considered leaving. Was the grass greener somewhere else?

Maybe.

I could probably have found a position that paid more. Would I have enjoyed it as much? Would it have offered as much job satisfaction? Would it have been as good for my worklife balance?

I have no idea. But, since my own grass was meeting all my needs, I didn’t see any need to run after greener grass.

Of course, now that I’ve been laid off, everyone else’s grass looks pretty attractive.

Stay safe

Rodney M Bliss is an author, columnist and IT Consultant. His blog updates every weekday. He lives in Pleasant Grove, UT with his lovely wife, thirteen children and grandchildren.

Follow him on
Twitter (@rodneymbliss)
Facebook (www.facebook.com/rbliss)
LinkedIn (www.LinkedIn.com/in/rbliss)
or email him at rbliss at msn dot com

(c) 2021 Rodney M Bliss, all rights reserved

You’re Coming Back Aren’t You?

It was an odd question. And a potentially scary one. It was my first day working in a custom cabinet shop. I was 21 and just back from a mission for the Mormon church. I was working at a summer job to earn money for college in the Fall.

I was working in the cabinet shop, but I wasn’t a cabinetmaker. I wasn’t even a woodworker. I was basically unskilled labor. I swept up. I ran errands. I lifted and carried. The only woodworking task I was allowed to perform was sanding. Hand sanding, no pneumatic or power tools.

And in a custom cabinet shop there are lots of things to sand. We made everything, cabinets, cabinet doors, interior and exterior doors. Many of the doors were panel doors. You know, the doors with an inset. They often have six inset panels.

I have six panel doors in my house. But, they aren’t solid wood. they are preformed hollow doors. They are made printed more than cut. And unlike the preformed doors, the natural wood doors need to be sanded. That’s where I came in. The process, in case you’ve never had the pleasure is to take a piece of sandpaper, fold it in half and then sand every inch of the door panels. It’s slow, tedious, but not especially dangerous work.

And it’s hard to screw it up. That’s why they assigned it to me.

I screwed it up.

I didn’t intend to, and it’s not because I did anything wrong. It’s a solid wood door. And solid wood means splinters. My sandpaper caught a bit of wood and quickly separated not just a splinter, but a skewer. It cut the pad of my little finger right hand. It then went completely through the meaty part of my ring finger and finally embedded it’s top into my middle finger. And then it broke off from the door. Al together about three inches of what was formally a part of the door was imbedded in my fingers.

Clearly I needed medical attention. The foreman asked me if I could drive myself to the hospital.

Yeah, I’ll be okay

Are you coming back?

What do you mean? Do I still have a job?

Yeah, it’s just that the last guy we hired to do your job quit after the first day.

Really? Why?

Said he didn’t like sawdust.

Oh, and I sat in the emergency room waiting area for three hours holding my skewered hand. I finally got to be seen when there was an accident on the freeway and they needed the room. A doctor looked at my hand, grabbed some tweezers and pulled the splinter out. He then slapped on a bandage and told me to come back if I noticed any discomfort.

Nope. No discomfort. I still have the scar. And I worked at that job a summer.

Sawdust is man glitter.

Stay safe

Rodney M Bliss is an author, columnist and IT Consultant. His blog updates every weekday. He lives in Pleasant Grove, UT with his lovely wife, thirteen children and grandchildren.

Follow him on
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LinkedIn (www.LinkedIn.com/in/rbliss)
or email him at rbliss at msn dot com

(c) 2021 Rodney M Bliss, all rights reserved

It Was A Sunday

Ever notice how certain dates stand out in your memory? Dates that you will never forget, but others might not remember?

May 18, 1980 is one of those dates for me. I can tell you exactly where I was and exactly what I saw. What I saw looked like a large cloud off to the South, but visible from my house in Lacey, Washington.

This cloud was different. This cloud was still growing as I watched it.

It was the ash cloud from the eruption of Mount St Helens. Forty-One years ago.

And yet, I remember it like it was yesterday.

Stay safe

Rodney M Bliss is an author, columnist and IT Consultant. His blog updates every weekday. He lives in Pleasant Grove, UT with his lovely wife, thirteen children and grandchildren.

Follow him on
Twitter (@rodneymbliss)
Facebook (www.facebook.com/rbliss)
LinkedIn (www.LinkedIn.com/in/rbliss)
or email him at rbliss at msn dot com

(c) 2021 Rodney M Bliss, all rights reserved

I Hike At 1 MPH. . .Seriously

When I say I’m a slow hiker, I’m not just being self-deprecating. I really am the slowest guy I know. And I don’t even really like hiking. It’s hard on my knees.

But, there I was Friday afternoon hiking (if you can call it that) up Grove Creek Canyon just east of my home in Pleasant Grove. It was hot; high 80’s but felt hotter on the exposed southern face of the canyon. My backback weighed 41 lbs. That’s a little heavier than I normally carry.

There’s a formula for what the “correct” backpack weight is. You divide the weight of your backback by your own weight. You should shoot for a 25% ratio. The problem with this formula is suppose you’re a big fat guy? I mean, I’m a little heavier this year than when I made this hike last year (thanks COVID quarantine.) But, suppose I put on 100 lbs, I would then be able to carry a backpack that weighed 80 lbs. I’m not sure who came up with this formula, but it wasn’t a guy that weighs 300 lbs.

This was our annual “Baldy” hike. We are thinking of renaming it since we actually never set foot on Mount Baldy. It’s a hike that goes up Grove Creek canyon for 5 miles to The Springs. Then, it’s a mile across The Meadow to our campsite. Literally the prettiest campsite I have ever camped at. Then, Saturday, we hike another 4 miles down Battle Creek Canyon. And we hike the 1.5 mile from Kiwanis Park at the base of Battle Creek to our house.

The hike was originally a hike that we did with the Boy Scouts every May. The boys often did summit Baldy, but about half the time weather kept us to the shorter route.

Now it’s me and my kids. This year, we had my oldest boy, who has been with me the last three years on this hike. We also had my daughter who went with us two years ag and her slightly younger sister who had never been on this hike. My older daughter also brought along her boyfriend. You learn a lot about a guy when you literally walk in his footsteps for a mile. . .or ten. He’s a good guy.

Last year we had clear skies, gorgeous views and freezing temperatures at night. This year, we had cloudy skies, gorgeous views and mild temperatures at night.

My son and I left the Grove Creek trailhead at 1:00pm Friday afternoon. Five miles lasted we arrived at The Springs at 6:00pm.

Don’t mind me. I’m slow. I’m old.

If you can walk up this mountain you’re not old. Old people don’t make this hike.

I love my son.

Fortunately, I do a little better on level ground and even better going downhill. So, I managed faster speeds going downhill. After a couple of days of sore muscles I’m almost ready to decide to continue the tradition next year.

Stay safe

Rodney M Bliss is an author, columnist and IT Consultant. His blog updates every weekday. He lives in Pleasant Grove, UT with his lovely wife, thirteen children and grandchildren.

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