After a month of basically non-stop working (and very little sleep), it was just short of a miracle that I managed to dip out of work by noon this Friday to make my "appointment" with a ferry to Angel Island for a camping trip we'd reserved back in mid-March. The only weekend date/site open in the entire available bookings window was this single date for the 30-person site. With that sort of upper limit on headcount, we threw out a blanket invitation and let the RSVPs roll in. Unsurprisingly, our 17-person team whittled itself down to 9 in the final days leading up to the event, but the crowd that did pull through made for a memorable night escaping into the wilderness via public transport, in the middle of one of the mostly densely populated urban centers in America. For an entire night I was not glued to my phone. We ate dinner outdoors, surrounded by conversations and the rustling of the trees instead of the dulcet sounds of Netflix. I did not awake to check my latest push notifications first thing in the morning. It felt so '90s. I'm not sure why we don't do this more often.
And then, by noon on Saturday we were back in SF, an entire weekend still available to us after our escape from reality.
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| A night on Angel Island with our crew |
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