Shake, Rattle, and Roll!

Nope—not a dance move. Although, the way I shift gears in our old Bobcat, you might think I was doing some kind of off-grid interpretive routine.

This little rig has a personality all its own. When we first got it, it had already lived a rough life working at a mine. It was well-used (a polite way of saying beat to pieces), but it was ours. Four-wheel drive, enclosed cab—not a truck, not an ATV. Just a weird little beast that’s kept us going.

Let’s just say shifting into high gear was never graceful. I’d either have to stand up and yank with all my might, or brace my back on the seat, lift my leg, and use my foot to push the stick into place.

Glamorous? Not even close. Functional? Barely.

Over time, the gear stick started falling apart—first a break, then a workaround with a clamped-on screwdriver. Then the cable went out completely.

So picture this: Every time we needed to go from forward to reverse, someone had to get out, reach underneath the rig with an old ax handle, and manually shift from forward to backwards.

You can't make this stuff up.

One winter, we thought it would be “fun” to see how far we could go with two feet of snow on the road. Spoiler alert: not far. And yes, we got stuck!

So.. I was jumping out every few feet to shift us back and forth, forward and reverse, stuck again… rinse and repeat, add a little digging, and we finally made it out.

Eventually, the axle between the front tires broke and the wheels just flopped outward like a cartoon car. We were trying to move it in or out of the shop to work on, so, I’d give 'em a little kick to straighten 'em out and off we’d go—a whole foot or two.

Thankfully, a mechanic finally made it out and worked some serious magic. After four days of fixing everything from equipment to camp essentials (and getting stuck here longer than expected—because Alaska), we had a functioning Bobcat again!

The shifter works now… mostly. It’s still got a brand-new rattle, but I’ve come to accept it like an old friend that chatters too much.

This fall, I’ve been taking it out the road to gather firewood with David and clear fallen branches. Between the weather, thinned trees, and the occasional “David pruning session,” there’s always something to toss off the trail.

Luckily, no wildlife to remove—just tree limbs. A full vegetarian cleanup, if you will.

I take my time driving home. The woods are peaceful. I feel grounded there, at ease.

Sometimes I’m lucky enough to catch something rare—like today, I spotted three female Pine Grosbeaks. I don’t think they’ll stick around all winter, so I’ll have to do a little birding research later.

The glimpses of ocean through the trees, the quiet (minus the Bobcat’s chatter), the birds, the surprise appearances by moose or porcupines—it all keeps me enchanted and deeply grateful.

Living in this old logging camp brings a connection to nature and history that I treasure.

The days flow in this beautiful rhythm between deep personal work, client calls, fun online networking, and good old-fashioned physical labor.

It keeps me moving. It keeps me thinking. It keeps me alive.

My takeaways from this season?

🌲 Gratitude—for this wild, beautiful land I get to call home.

💪 Balance—because life and work can harmonize when we choose to make time for the things that matter.

🧠 Mindset—when fear or frustration creeps in (like worrying I might meet a moose or that the Bobcat might leave me stranded), I lean on my POPMindset tools to shift quickly into peace, power, and belief.

And that, my friend, is how I keep rolling—rattles and all.

See you on the road,Love, BJ