I have never received a manicure. Quite honestly, I
had absolutely no intentions of ever getting a manicure before I began my “I
have never...” year. The idea of paying someone to beautify my fingernails
simply had no appeal to me, and as far as I was concerned the manliest thing
about the practice was the first three letters of the word. As a result, a
manicure wasn’t something I ever anticipated I would experience, and, frankly,
I was absolutely fine with that being the case.
Despite my perspective, getting a manicure and a
pedicure was an experience several people insisted I tackle during the course
of my “I have never...” year. Like many of the other experiences I had no
interest in gaining before it, the recurrence of the idea ultimately caused me
to add “getting a manicure” to my “I have never...” list of potential new
experiences. Although I intended to keep the experience on reserve for a sort
of back-up event should I find myself in need, Rachael recently made me aware
of a manicure deal she encountered online. After a bit of persistence and
persuasion on her part, I reluctantly committed to the experience several weeks
ago. In turn, I found myself walking through the doors of Brio’s Hair Salon on
the eastside of Madison after work this evening wondering what my first experience
with a manicure would bring.
Here goes nothing...
With the salon door swinging closed behind me, I
was relieved to see Rachael had decided to meet me for the experience. After
greeting her briefly I turned to a small counter on my right and greeted a
woman sitting behind it. She promptly introduced herself as Sarah as she typed
a few things into her computer and stood up. Smiling, she welcomed me to the
salon. “Well, I understand this is your first experience with a manicure.” I
nodded my head in confirmation as she continued, “Don’t worry. I’ll take good
care of you. I have plenty of experience with this kind of thing.”
The salon
Before
Her confidence was reassuring as we moved toward
the center of the salon, which was surprisingly empty with the exception of our
presence. “Take a seat,” Sarah said pointing to a small table resting before a
rack of nail care supplies. Still a bit hesitant, I slowly sat down at the
table opposite of Sarah and did my best to get comfortable. “OK, let’s see
those hands!” Sarah said, doing her best to chase off my obvious uncertainty.
In response, I lifted my hands and set them face down on the table. Sarah
picked them up and gave them a quick glance before moving to prepare a few
supplies. “They look pretty good,” she said looking up at me, “This should go really
smooth... Now, put your right hand in there.”
Sarah set down a small bowl of water fizzing from
the presence of white, marble-like objects resting at the bottom of the
container. “In the water?” I asked somewhat put off by the apparent chemical
reaction happening in the bowl. Sarah smiled at my question and did her best to
quell my obvious confusion. “Yes, the small balls are more or less a cleaner
and moisturizer. It helps prepare the hands.” In response, I slowly lifted my
hand and placed it into the bowl, where it was immediately enveloped by the
effervescence rolling over in the bowl. The feeling was strange and unique at
first, but it became somewhat soothing as I familiarized myself with the
sensation. All in all, it wasn’t a bad start to the experience.
Buff it!
After letting my hand soak for several minutes,
Sarah lifted it from the water, dabbed it dry, and took a close look at my
nails. “Yeah, we’re ready,” she said grabbing some more supplies from the
table. Then, in a flurry of activity she applied a white cream to the base of
each of my nails, rubbed it in, and began working on the surface of each nail
with a series of tools. The speed with which she set to work made me wince at
the prospect of forthcoming pain, but my fear passed almost immediately as her
scraping and clipping action on my nails produced no ill effects. In fact, in a
matter of moments she worked over my nails in a series of smooth, deliberate
motions, leaving my nails as vibrant and lustrous as I have ever seen them. I
didn’t know how I felt about it, but there was no denying they looked better
than when I came in to the salon tonight.
The final touches
As Sarah touched up the nails on my right hand she
asked me to begin soaking my left. As before, she removed my left hand from the
solution and repeated the process she had completed on my right hand moments
earlier. Once finished, she worked over my nails with a file and did some final
touch up work before leaning back and looking at my hands together. She paused
momentarily as she looked closely at some of the details of her work. While she
did, I followed her eyes closely wondering what she was looking for on the
surface of my hands, but before I could ask she popped her head up and said,
“Alright! That’s a manicure!”
After
After declining on a coat of nail polish, I
turned to Rachael and let her give my nails a once over. She nodded her head in
approval at the work, which made me look closer at my nails in search of the
differences the two of them were noticing. There was no denying my nails looked
clean and uniform, but I didn’t necessarily understand the point of having such
work completed on a pair on typical man hands like mine. It was an interesting
experience, but I can’t say it is one that leaves me feeling I should revisit
it in the future. I’m sure if I took better care of my nails to begin with it
would be a much different story, but I don’t see that happening anytime in the
near future. With that in mind, I can rest knowing I sat through a manicure
once. I guess there's something to be gained in the experience, and if all that came from it was a good story, that still
makes it worthwhile in my book.
I have never volunteered at the Second Harvest Food
Bank. When I decided volunteering for a new organization each month would be a
part of my “I have never...” journey, volunteering at the food bank was high on
my list of potential locations to donate some of my time. Although that was the
case, other volunteer opportunities seemed to fall into place during the first
nine months of my year. As a result, I pushed back my intention to volunteer at
Second Harvest as the months passed, thinking I could volunteer at the location
when I encountered any sort of snag in locating a one-time volunteer
experience. Fortunately, I never found it challenging to find volunteer
opportunities up to this point, which ultimately made me decide to finally act
on my intent of volunteering at the food bank by offering my assistance this
month. In turn, I booked a volunteer shift at Second Harvest this afternoon and
headed to the location to follow through on my tenth volunteer experience of my
“I have never...” year.
The facility
When I arrived at the food bank this afternoon, I
was greeted by a gathering group of people in the lobby of the building. A mix
of food bank employees and volunteers from the local Lions club, each them
promptly offered an introduction as I took my position among the crowd. With that,
one of the volunteer coordinators took the opportunity to provide some
background on the food bank for each of us volunteers. Explaining the food bank
served as the central location for food pantries within a 16 county radius, the
woman detailed how our work this evening would help in the food bank’s effort
to distribute nearly one million pounds of food each month. As the facts
settled in, I was struck by the enormity of the tasks Second Harvest take on
each day. Knowing I could help contribute to that effort in the slightest way
mad me glad I had finally acted on my intentions to volunteer at the food bank,
and it made me excited to start our volunteer shift for the evening.
WAREHOUSE.
My sorting station
After our introduction to the organization, one of
the food bank’s warehouse employees guided us to the back of the facility and
explained our shift would focus on packaging bulk chocolate treats for
distribution. The task was straightforward enough that our group began the
process of organizing, weighing, and packing the candies at our independent
stations shortly after arriving in the room. Within minutes, each of us was
finding a groove in the process and setting marks for our progress by the end
of the night. The interaction and common goal gave us all a lift as we worked through
our first bags of the chocolates and stared down the work before us. With
nearly a palette and a half of cased candies to work through, it was clear we
had a big task before us.
Over the next three hours our group worked steadily
as we chatted about the process and our independent reasons for donating our
time. As I listened to the stories of others, including a fellow volunteer who
was literally days away from giving birth, I couldn’t help but recognize the
caliber of the individuals surrounding me. Each of them had busy lives filled
with more than enough events and obligations to occupy their time, but they saw
the need to help the local food bank as important enough to set aside all of
those things for several hours this evening. Their collective perspective was
admirable and humbling, which made me want to give my all during the rest of my
shift at the food bank.
I don't mean to brag, but... I'm pretty much a sorting expert.
As the late afternoon crept into the night, members
of our volunteer group slowly peeled away from the group to head home for the
evening. Eventually, that left only me and one other volunteer, an older
gentleman named Jeff, who quickly made a pact with me to work through to the
food bank’s closing hour. Together, we carried on in conversation as we worked
alongside some of the food bank employees, doing our best to whittle away at
the remaining half of a palette of chocolates waiting to be processed.
In time, our effort resulted in a full palette of
stacked boxes filled with goods ready for distribution, which gave both Jeff
and I a sense of accomplishment as we pressed forward in our efforts. Equally
committed to the idea of leaving as little work behind as possible by the time
the food bank closed, we refocused and heightened our pace as the clock crept
toward our finishing time. Although that effort didn’t result in Jeff and I
getting through all of the candies that required sorting and packing by the
time our shift drew to a close, we stood before a waist high pile of unworked
boxes that paled in comparison to the work we had found when we arrived.
Success!
Looking over the remaining work along with me, Jeff
offered a simple comment about our effort. “Well, I’d say we made some pretty
good progress,” he said turning to me with a smile. I shook my head in
agreement and looked back at the stack of boxes we had packed over the hours we
were at the food bank. “Yeah, that’s a good night’s work if you ask me,” I said
as I gestured toward the boxes of food ready for distribution. In response,
Jeff smiled and stuck out his hand. I promptly grabbed it for a shake as Jeff
continued, “It was good working with you, Caleb. Thanks for sticking this one
out with me.” The kindness and sincerity in his words were impossible to ignore,
but the thanks he offered threw me a bit off guard. “No thanks necessary,
Jeff,” I said wondering where the comment was taking me, “This is what we came
here to do, and I wasn’t about to leave until they told us it was closing
time.”
Understanding my perspective, Jeff gave me a nod as
we headed toward the front of the building. There, one of the employees gave us
our final send off and thanked us for our time before guiding us to the door.
Slinging my coat over my torso, I walked out into the bitter cold of another
winter night. With the night silence of a city grown still around me, I
reflected on what I had learned this evening and on the time I had put in at
Second Harvest today. In the broad scope of the food bank’s enormous
undertakings my effort seemed incredibly small, but I knew the significance of
today’s experience rested in knowing that the work I did will help people in
need find a brief moment of joy in the candy treats I had helped prepare this
evening. Although those moments are incredibly fleeting, the knowledge my work
might help deliver that outcome makes every part of this experience worth it. There’s
something to be said for helping people, even when their names and faces are
unknown. In an odd way it makes me feel more complete and, in some ways, more
alive. Considering my goal is to figure out what it means to truly live, that’s
a conclusion that carries weight. I just might be starting to figure this whole
thing out.
I have never been dog sledding. As a person with an
unfettered love of dogs, the idea of coasting over the snow guided by a team of
Huskies has been something that has drawn me in for as long as I can remember. Although
my exposure to the sport has been limited to clips of sled teams on television
and in movies, I have longed to experience the bond formed when working with a
team of dogs and to feel the rush of the experience since I was a child. Dog
sledding has been one of those things I simply needed to experience, but up to
this point in my life I never acted on that desire.
Given that reality, I knew my “I have never...”
year offered me the perfect opportunity and motivation to finally experience
dog sledding firsthand. As a result, I set to work finding a location to learn
how to mush at the first signs of winter this year. Ultimately, that effort
resulted in me finding a dog sledding outfit called the Siberian Outpost in
east-central Wisconsin, which offered full mushing lessons and half day
excursions over 30 acres of trails. Realizing the offering was my best outlet
for finally gaining an experience I had dreamed of for most of my life, I
promptly contacted the location and narrowed down a list of days that would
work for the event. With a little coordination and planning, that resulted in
owner of the outfit, Jim, and I landing on today as the best time for me to
make good on my lifelong goal of learning how to mush.
Acknowledging the experience was one I didn’t want
to gain alone, I spent the weeks leading up to the event doing my best to
convince my friends to join me for the event. Although most of them were unable
to make it, my friend, Wes, was quick to commit when I told him about the
opportunity. In turn, the two of us drove to the Siberian Outpost early this
morning and prepared for an experience we both knew we would never forget.
The welcoming crew...
Jim was quick to greet us when we arrived at the
Siberian Outpost this morning. Through the frigid, -10 degree air he called to
us from the opposite side of a massive dog pen containing nearly two dozen of
some of the most beautiful dogs I have ever seen. Curious about our arrival,
the dogs followed us closely as we moved around the pen and met Jim at his
location. Busy loading firewood into a massive wood burning stove, Jim advised
us we could our way into a large pole shedconnected to the dog pen to prepare for the day’s events.
Happy to heed Jim’s direction, Wes and I found our
way to the interior of the building and prepared ourselves for a few hours in
the cold. As we did so, Jim joined us in the building and explained the day
would start with some training on how to manage a sled, which would be followed
by some runs around the fields and forest of his sprawling property. Eager to
get started, Wes and I quickly finished up our preparations before Jim guided
us into the back of the building and introduced us to a pair of his sleds.
The Siberian Outpost
Over the next 30 minutes, Jim walked us through the
basic principles of dog sledding, which included dog commands, steering,
balance, and operation of the sleds’ key components. Although the instructions
were relatively simple, Jim was forward in warning us of the power and
challenge presented by a dog team in a full run. “These dogs can pull 1,000
pounds apiece. When you get going the sled is going to want to turn over,” Jim
said firmly, “You’re going to have to get physical with it; lean into turns,
twist the sled, and tell the dogs their pace. They run, but you are in control.
Remember that.” The words were not lost on Wes and me as we listened on. “Your
safety and the safety of dogs, those are number one,” Jim continued, looking at
the two of us for confirmation of our understanding.
One of our sleds
Getting schooled by Jim
Wes and I immediately offered statements of
affirmation to Jim’s remarks, which set him to work grabbing a variety of
rigging from a nearby container. “Alright, I’m going to be running a team of
16. The two of you will be alternating on a team of four,” Jim said concisely
as he returned to the sled and made a few adjustments, “Are you feeling ready?”
Wes and I excitedly confirmed that was the case before moving toward the door
near Jim’s side. Jim smiled at our response and offered a simple reply, “Well, then
let’s get ‘em rigged up!”
At Jim’s instruction, Wes and I helped move the
sleds out to the pen where the dogs were waiting and worked the sled near the
gate. Our actions caused an excited response from the dogs, who watched on with
wagging tails as they leapt around in anticipation of the forthcoming run. The
sight was enough to put a smile on my face as we continued through the process
at Jim’s direction, which led us back into the pole shed and straight into the
dog pen.
Passing through a door between a massive row of dog
runs, we were greeted by the pack of dogs as they massed up around our legs. To
my surprise, their excitement at our presence didn’t cause a single one of them
to forgo their manners. Instead, each of the casually wagged their tails and
looked up to us for attention while we prepared the harnesses for each of them.
They were kind and gentle in a way that was almost unexpected given their
enthusiasm and strength, which moved me to comment on their behavior.
“What good dogs,” I said petting several of them as
they approached, “They are so well mannered.” In response, Jim finished placing
a harness on one of the dogs and looked up at me with a smile. “You know, almost
all of them are all rescues,” he said proudly, “...Dogs that they said couldn’t
find a home or were unfit for families.” Stunned, I kneeled down and pet a
large white Husky that had been by my side since we entered the pen. The dog
responded by licking the side of my face and wagging his tail happily. “That’s
Alex,” Jim said pointing to the white dog, “He was scheduled to be put down the
day I picked him up. They said he was unfit to live with a family. He looks
unfit doesn’t he?”
Gearing up
Some of the best dogs I've ever met... and almost all rescues
Shocked, I replied to Jim’s remark with the only
thought that crossed my mind. “Him? Not one bit,” I said petting Alex once
more. My comment caused Jim to pause for a moment. “...All he really needed was
to run,” Jim said breaking his silence, “Now that he can, he’s one of the best
dogs I’ve ever known.” Continuing in his work, Jim grabbed another harness from
a nearby container and looked back at me. “I guess that’s part of the reason I
do what I do,” he said conclusively. In his remark, I saw the passion Jim had
for the pack of animals stirring around us. It was all I needed to know I had
come to the right place for my first experience dog sledding.
Once we finished fitting each of the dogs with
harnesses, Jim walked Wes and I through the process of securing the dogs to the
sleds in preparation for our departure. As we did so, the dogs happily howled
and played in their side-by-side positions at the front of the sleds, causing
Wes and I to curiously smile at their playful behavior. “Do they normally do
this?” Wes asked as Jim as he made final adjustments to the rigging. Standing
and moving toward the sled Jim replied casually, “Yeah, they know what’s
coming, and they can’t wait for it.” With that remark, he gave one last look
over the setup and looked to the two of us. “OK, Wes you get on the race sled.
Caleb you hop in the front of the cargo sled. We are ready to go.” Wes and I
gave one another an excited glance at Jim’s comment, realizing the experience
we had come for was finally upon us.
Ready to go!
With Wes and I in our positions, Jim slid open a
massive gate at the opposite end of the dog pen and moved to the rear of the
sled I had taken a seat in. “They’re ready,” he said firmly, “Now, I’m going to
release the chain keeping the sleds in place, and then we’re going to go. You
guys ready?” Wes and I responded with an enthusiastic, “Yes,” causing Jim to shift
his arm slightly and drop the safety chain to the ground with a metallic
clatter. The movement was almost immediately accompanied by a single word
belted over the winter air. “Hike!” Jim bellowed as he leaned into the handles
of the sled. In response, the dogs tore forward through the open gate and onto
a prepared trail. Wes followed suit with the same command and fell in line
immediately behind us as we gathered speed. Within moments we were spiriting
into the frozen terrain surrounding Jim’s home and darting toward the forest at
the rear of his property. As the dogs worked in unison, I found the speed of
the sled surprising, even following Jim’s earlier lesson. Regardless, those
first moments of the trek were absolutely exhilarating and incredible. I would
come to find those feelings wouldn’t fade until well after our time on trails
came to an end.
On the trail
Over the next 20 minutes I happily rode along with
Jim as Wes found his bearings on the race sled behind us. Winding through the
trees and over the fields at a steady clip, we made our way around the property
before Jim slowed to a stop and asked Wes and I to switch places. Excited by
the prospect of gaining the experience I had come to gain, I sprang to my feet
and met Wes as he called his four dog team to a stop behind Jim. Minutes later
I was in position behind the handles of the sled and ready to test the skills
Jim had taught me earlier. In that moment, the anticipation I held was the
greatest I have felt since I was a child, but, in a way, that made sense given
I was about to live a dream I had held onto since my youth.
Taking the helm!
After Wes took his position at the front of the
cargo sled Jim looked back at me and gave me a nod. “You ready?” he asked
bluntly. “Yeah,” I said in return, “Let’s do this!” With that, Jim called his
dogs to action, leaving me behind on the trail. Within moments they pulled some
20 yards ahead of my location, which gave me the cushion I needed to fall
behind Jim’s sled. “You ready, guys?” I asked as I tightened my grip and gave a
quick check of my feet. Confident my position on the sled was correct I lifted
my head, took a deep breath, and belted out a single word, “Hike!”
The call barely escaped my lips before the dogs dug
deep into the snow and pulled my sled from its resting point. Under the force
of their paws we were immediately gliding over the terrain and narrowing the
distance between us and Jim’s sled. Noticing the dogs were eager, I encouraged
them to continue in their effort with the commands Jim had given me earlier.
“Let’s go! Pick it up!” I called, “Run, run!” In response, the dogs heightened
their speed as we moved into a turn, which sent my sled sliding toward the edge
of the trail. The force was strong enough to put the sled up on one rail, which
forced me into action twisting the sled and leaning into the turn as Jim had
instructed me earlier. Almost immediately, the sled responded to my actions,
slamming back into the snow and regaining forward momentum in the tracks left
by Jim and Wes. With the frigid winter air rushing by me, I laughed at the
intense and amazing feeling of the moment. It was wonderful and rousing in a
way that is hard to describe, which made it impossible to wipe the smile from
my face.
A little frosty after 30 minutes on the trails
The euphoria caused by the experience on the sled
didn’t fade for a moment as Wes, Jim, and I continued over the trails for the
next few hours. With Wes and I taking turns running the race sled, we had
plenty of time to get comfortable in the sport, which helped us more readily
connect with the dogs and move the sleds into faster speeds. By the time we
reached the end of our outing, Jim felt confident enough in the progress we had
made that he gave me a chance to lead the cargo sled team of 16 dogs, which
provided the perfect cap to an already amazing experience. Under the power of
16 eager Huskies I drove the sled through the woods at amazing speeds and ended
today’s new experience with a rush of excitement. There’s simply no other way
to describe it, today was amazing.
Ready for a post-trek snack and a nap...
In our final time at the Siberian Outpost Wes
and I helped Jim remove harnesses and give the dogs some well-earned food and
water. As I watched the dogs settle in after their hard work on the trails, I
thought about Jim’s rescue work, his commitment to the dogs, and his love of
the sport. It was clear his heart rested in every moment with the animals and
his joy came from seeing them on the trails. Recognizing that reality, I
couldn’t help but feel overwhelming respect for his efforts and devotion. That
takeaway was the last thing I expected to gain from today’s experience, but its
occurrence made an already incredible day that much better. Today was one for
the books in my “I have never...” journey, and there’s a lot to be said for
coming to that conclusion.
I have never been to a talk by an Inca spiritual
messenger. Normally, attending such an event wouldn’t be high on my list of
things to experience in life, but my “I have never...” sub-goal of experiencing
unknown elements of the world’s religion has left me open to new ideas and
perspectives in faith as my year of new experiences has progressed. As a
result, I found myself intrigued by the idea of attending a talk by Willaru
Huayta when I became aware the globally known Inca spiritual messenger would be
visiting my hometown of Madison. At minimum, I figured such an event would give
me a look at a belief system that was entirely foreign to me, and I recognized
there was likely something to be gained from exposure to such an experience. As
a result, I committed to attending the lecture by Willaru Huayta this evening
at Mimosa Books in hopes the decision would yield some valuable insights.
Mimosa... Sounds like a good place.
When I arrived at Mimosa Books this evening, I was
surprised to find the lecture was being held in a small room above the store.
In the room, tightly packed rows of chairs lined the half of the confined
space, facing a narrow pocket of open carpet against a series of frostbitten
windows. Realizing the limited scope of the seating for the event, I promptly
found a chair when I arrived and shuffled through soma materials on the event
as the room filled up around me. Eventually, that led one of the organizers of
the event to acknowledge it was time to begin, which prompted her to greet the
audience and provide a brief introduction for Willaru Huayta.
Some background
Following his introduction, Willaru appeared from
behind a divider tucked into one corner of the room and took his position
before the gathering of people. Speaking softly, he introduced himself and
explained that his efforts to speak about faith and spiritualism were not any
form of channeling or other claimed skills. Rather, he explained, his guidance
came from study on world religions, from elements of his Peruvian roots, and
years of meditation designed to help him achieve a higher state of consciousness.
As he spoke, he made many references to the idea of a Father Wisdom and a
Mother Love, which corresponded to touches on his forehead and sternum,
respectively. As he spoke of them, he was clear to explain the ideas were
rooted in Incan religious beliefs, but that the message was universal among all
prophets and Gods in all religions. Although it was clear his views and
messages were heavily influenced by aspects of Incan faith, the universality of
the principles across all forms of religion provided an enlightening approach
to spirituality.
Delving deeper into the intention and purpose of
his message, Willaru took these basic concepts and tied them into a concept of
an internal God that exists in all people. Speaking specifically to the
commonly known seven deadly sins, he stated the idea of externalizing God and
faith ignored the role individual decisions and personal betterment play in
fulfilling life’s purpose and achieving spiritual enlightenment. He summarized
this concept with a simple remark that had a meaningful impact on my
perspective. “The idea that God is out there is wrong,” Willaru said, raising his
hands toward the ceiling, “God is inside everyone and everything. It is our
responsibility to find that and move closer to it through meditation and
enlightenment.”
The thought was not entirely unfamiliar to me, but
the perspective on what it meant was something new and different. The concept
bound all the fundamental principles of all of the world’s faiths together and
provided a personalized view of the idea of God, which was very different than
the external views of God I have encountered in my experiences with
Christianity, Islam, and Judaism. Instead of seeing God as an entity looking
down from some unknown place, Willaru saw God as a guiding light and a physical
trait inside all people and living things. He sought to live up to God’s will
through internal reflection guided by his Father Wisdom and Mother Love. He
wasn’t living up to an idea of heaven or the afterlife. He was living to create
those concepts in his mind and in the world around him. The approach was
equally unique and admirable, and it gave me a lot to think about as the event
moved into its final phases.
The post-class gathering
During a question and answer session that followed
the core of the lesson, Willaru guided the class through the concept of
enlightenment and the steps needed to achieve a higher state of consciousness.
Acknowledging he too had plenty of work to do to achieve this ultimate
objective, Willaru used Inca symbolism to demonstrate the three steps necessary
to achieve true spiritual enlightenment. Recalling early comments, he spoke
specifically to the disconnection of the human tendencies to the seven deadly
sins, deepening the bond to wisdom and love and permitting the mind to become
intertwined with God. The ideas were simple in concept but notably challenging
when considering them in practice. That alone was telling, but it provided me a
new outlook on how I can strive to be better for myself and for others. The
takeaway wasn’t about living and doing to live up to the expectations of some
distant God, it was about finding the idea of God within and using that to
affect the world around us.That
concept had power and meaning, and it left me with plenty to ponder as the
event with Willaru drew to a close.
At the conclusion of Willaru’s talk I stayed
in my chair for a few minutes as I thought over the content of his message. As
I did so, people around me slowly filtered out of the room or drew in to
Willaru for some personal interaction with the messenger. Realizing I had
already gained much from the experience, I simply stood and offered Willaru my
thanks as I headed for the door. With my feet guiding me down the creaky stairs
leading to the city street, I thought about how my first experience with
Willaru would affect my outlook going forward. Although it was impossible to
determine if it would have any immediate impact, I knew the idea of
internalizing my connection to whatever guiding force may exist in our world
was a task with undertaking. If anything, it will help me be a better person
for myself and others. In my mind, if that’s all that comes of it the idea is
still worth pursuing. After all, if this life is all I have, I might as well
make the most of it.
I have never judged a mixology contest. In fact, I
had never been to a mixology contest before today. This occurrence in the
course of my “I have never...” year was largely a chance happening, as I was
unaware a mixology contest was being held in Madison until just a few weeks
ago. My discovery of the event, titled the Madtown Shakedown, came as a result
of a rather random post of in my Facebook feed, which spurred me to do a little
more research on the event. That effort led me to the Madtown Shakedown
website, which showed the event would include some of the Madison area’s best
bartenders and would provide anyone the opportunity to judge for a $10 donation
to the R.E.A.P. Food Group. Realizing the opportunity was a unique way to gain
a new experience and to help a good cause, I immediately decided to make time
to attend. In turn, I made my way to The Wise bar and restaurant this evening
for some fun and relaxation after a busy weekend of travel.
Hotel Red - The Wise
Feeling much the same I did after our nine hours of
travel time yesterday, Amanda and Megan decided to join me in my “I have
never...” experience for the day. After arriving at the location of the event,
we were quick to grab a table in the judge’s area and settle in for the event.
There we chatted for a bit as we waited for the event to begin, wondering what
the experience would entail. In time, we learned the contest would include five
mixologists that would be tasked with creating a unique drink using standard
bar stock and a series of mystery ingredients they would not know until they
took up their position behind the bar.
Let's do this!
Intrigued by the prospects of the event, Amanda,
Megan, and I turned our attention to the small portable bar positioned at the
front of the room just as the first mixologist approached to start the event. As
he looked over the bar supplies a bit of surprised, and announcement indicating
the event was ready to begin rolled over a small set of speakers positioned in
the corner of the room. On cue, the bartender quickly set to work filling and
rimming glasses with a variety of syrups and liquors. To my surprise, he showed
little hesitation working with the mix of known and unknown materials. In a
matter of minutes he had a concoction of citrus, honey, and liquor at the
ready, and he was ready for the group to try his invention.
The first competitor
After letting the special guest judges take the
first sips of the drink, the bartender promptly made large batches of the drink
for the rest of the judges in attendance and took a position at the back of the
room. Eager to get a taste of the first contending cocktail, Amanda, Megan, and
I were quick to grab some samples of the drink and return to our table, where
we happily sipped away at the sweet and somewhat tart drink.
Round four
Round five
As we did so, the next competitor made her way
toward the bar and almost immediately set to work stirring up a drink of her
own design. Comparable to the first competitor, her comfort and confidence
behind the bar resulted in her completing her mixture in a matter of moments.
With a little bit of flare and a lot of expertise, she worked her way through
the drink before explaining her approach and drink design to the crowd. Like
before, we watched on as the guest judges took the first sip before returning
to the back of the room for our samples. Our first sips of the drink forced
smiles onto our faces and drove us to compare notes on its quality almost
immediately. Given the pace of the event and the deliciousness of the first two
submissions, it was clear it was going to be a good night.
Our judging crew
This pattern continued as the remaining three
bartenders each took to the bar and displayed their mixology skills. Using
oils, syrups, herbs, and a little bit of fire, each of them created a unique
drink that stood out against each of their competitors. As the competition drew
to a close Amanda, Megan, and I acknowledged our decision in judging the
competition would be a tough one, but we ultimately agreed one competitor stood
out among the rest. In turn, we submitted our votes as the contest peaked with
a final round of samples and a flurry of votes.
Soooo many drinks...
Putting in the vote
With all the votes submitted, Amanda, Megan, and I took
up conversation over our remaining drinks as we waited to hear the results of
the competition. In a pleasant surprise to cap the evening, Rachael and our
friend, Katrien, decided to join us for the tail of the event, which sent us
hunting for more samples to provide them. The result was a table laden with
contest submission samples that carried us well beyond the announcement of the
Madtown Shakedown winner. Although our choice for the best drink of the night
only came in second place, we reveled in the excitement of the contest and the
enjoyment of the cocktails that had emerged from the night’s competition. By
the time the event was ready to draw to a close, our spirits remained high and
our excitement remained undiminished. That outcome was all I needed to know
attending tonight’s event was a wise decision.
The winning announcement
When I arrived home after the event tonight,
I sunk into my sofa and smiled at the outcome of an entirely unplanned new
experience. Although I had no intentions of making a mixology contest a part of
this journey, the fun, laughs, and good drinks I shared with some amazing
people tonight made me happy it had found a way into my “I have never...” year.
Sure, we didn’t get the outcome we were hoping for after casting our votes. However
we did get to see some amazing talent in action, we were able to taste some
drinks that stood out among the cocktails I have experienced in my life, and
the money we donated to participate is going to a great cause. With that, I have every reason to say tonight’s experience was one
worth having.
