Spring storms

Hot. Cold. Sunny. Snowy. Happy. Sad. Failure. Success. I'm here for it all.

Before I jump into why I can feel the bags under my eyes, let’s get some business out of the way. Last week I announced Straight Talkin’, my new offering designed to help entrepreneurs, freelancers, dreamers, and creatives more confidently use their voices to achieve their goals, gain confidence in their work, navigate difficult conversations, and build community. Click here and scroll to the bottom for details and feel free to email or DM me with questions or to sign up.

It’s cold. It’s warm. It’s sunny. It’s cloudy. It’s windy. It’s rainy. It’s snowy. Welcome to spring skiing. PC: Char Harris

It’s a stormy Sunday afternoon in Sunriver, OR, and I’m writing this in between naps and long gazes out the window into the forest.

As I said goodbye to the women who joined Coalition for our annual Bachelorette ski trip I could feel the post-trip crash creep up, that slightly nauseous feeling when your body catches up with your brain. I’ve become accustomed to this, recognizing it’s a sign of success. You can’t organize and facilitate multi-day group trips and think you’ll make it out well-rested. Exhaustion is part of the program, and anyone who’s been on a trip with me knows how much I love a well-executed plan.

Yes, we chose to wake up at 6:30 am every day to do this. PC: Char Harris

We spent three lovely days together skiing a spring storm, trusting our feet below us as we slid across cat tracks and through trees, sometimes barely able to see where the next turn would take us. Afterward, we thawed out at the bar, picking at nachos and french fries and all sorts of other naughty foods you feel like you’ve earned after a long day of skiing. We’d prune ourselves in the hot tub, tending to sore muscles. Conversations flowed like bottles of wine as we caught up over dinner as if we were old friends who hadn’t seen each other in months.

This trip was a treat, not only because I was surrounded by thoughtful and kind women, but because it reminded me that what we’ve created at Coalition is nothing short of spectacular. Three powder days in a row didn’t hurt either.

It’s not a proper powder day unless I capture Sarah in all of her full send glory.

Before we even said goodbye, I started to put the plans in motion for our 2025 Mt. Bachelor trip, as well as a mid-winter trip to Grand Targhee and a September ski trip to Bariloche. It’s bittersweet to think I’ll have the time to organize more trips next year…

I’m closing Far Out, our retail shop, at the end of May. It’s a hard stop to a four-year endeavor that has included navigating a pandemic and the poor decision-making of developers. It’s wild to me that the latter was far more difficult, perhaps because I expected more out of a $57 million dollar development with all the bells and whistles that never materialized.

Even in the middle of a storm, the sun found a way to shine. I see you universe. PC: Char Harris

I don’t know if I’ve ever advocated for myself and my business so strongly, scheduling monthly meetings with ownership and laboriously documenting issue after issue. I said things to powerful men with money that surprised all of us; people in my position aren’t supposed to challenge people like them. But when it’s your livelihood and everything you’ve built over a decade is at risk of vanishing before your eyes, it becomes easier to settle into the conflict. I did at one point tell them they should have Googled me before they let me sign a lease; there is no reason why they should have believed I’d accept their mediocrity and missteps.

There was only so much we could do outside the white walls and concrete floors that we transformed into a beautiful space that embodied our values. I’m proud of what we built. It’s going to be difficult to tear it all down. But it’s time, so I will do it because I must. Come June 1st I’ll have an entire new world of possibilities in front of me, and that’s quite exciting.

This is the first time I’m sharing the closure of our brick-and-mortar publicly, so it’s incomplete. I’ve purposely left out the details so as not to get lost in the minutia. I have yet to craft the words for the formal announcement; I don’t have them yet. The long drive home will be the perfect container to capture my thoughts about making a decision that feels like both a failure and a triumph.

Riding the waves… PC: Char Harris

We, being all of the women-owned small businesses who are closing our shops (yes, you read that right), plan on throwing a party on May 23rd to celebrate our departure. What on the surface seems like an embarrassing failure is a decision driven by our vision and values. While it feels so difficult at this moment, we’re choosing to stay true to and trust ourselves. To operate from strength, not scarcity. If you live in Reno/Tahoe, I hope you’ll join us. Details are forthcoming, but you can bet there will be cocktails, really good deals, and heaps of tea.

Before I get on the road, will you do us a solid and weigh in on some of the marketing copy we’re noodling on? Going Out of Business doesn’t do it justice.