I stopped in my tracks.

There, beside a fire in a tiny gold mining camp in Alaska, was a large heart shaped rock. Not tucked away somewhere I had been searching. Not something I had to turn over or study closely to decide whether it resembled a heart. It was simply there, in plain sight, almost perfectly placed as if waiting for me to walk around the back of those wooden benches and notice it.

I've always believed in signs.

It was 95 degrees, humid, and somewhere just down the road thousands of people were gathering for Country Thunder.

Perfect conditions for our very first farmers market, right?

If you've been following my blog, you may remember the secret I revealed earlier this year. My daughter Hannah, her boyfriend Lorenzo, and I started Stay Dirty Italian Soda Co., a mobile beverage business built around colorful Italian sodas, fun flavors, and the idea of creating an experience that makes people smile.

The water rushed through Ketchikan Creek with a force I could see and hear as I stood watching hundreds, then thousands, of pink salmon moving through the water. Some seemed to hover for a moment, gathering strength, while others propelled themselves forward with everything they had. Again and again, I watched them attempt to move upstream, only to have the current push them backward.

And then they would try again.

For the first twenty minutes, we saw nothing.

My friend Trina and I were on a whale watching excursion during the cruise portion of our recent Alaska trip, scanning the water and hoping for some sign that the whales were nearby. Our tour actually came with a money back guarantee that we would see whales, but as our boat continued across the water without a single sighting, I started wondering if we might be collecting on that promise.

Then our captain spotted something in the distance. A spout.

The boat skimmed across the water as music played and the crowd watched from shore. One moment the skiers were gliding across the lake in a long line, and the next they were climbing onto one another's shoulders, building something that seemed almost impossible while moving across the water. Higher and higher they went until a human pyramid had formed, with one skier standing at the very top.

The first step was enough to make me question what I had gotten myself into.

Ahead of me stretched 450 feet of narrow wooden planks suspended high above the Capilano River in Vancouver, British Columbia. Towering evergreens surrounded the canyon, their branches reaching toward the sky, while the river wound through the forest far below. From where I stood at the entrance to the Capilano Suspension Bridge, the other side looked like a very long way away.

“Buzzy, I see one!"

No sooner had the words left Emery's mouth than she was off running across the yard, wand in hand, determined to save us all from the dragon lurking nearby. Her little sister, Autumn, was right behind her, gripping her own magical wand with complete confidence that together we could make the dragon disappear.

Thankfully, our castle was close by.

The air was thick before I ever stepped onto the first tee. It was one of those hot, sticky summer mornings where you can almost feel the humidity resting on your shoulders. Dark clouds lingered overhead, threatening rain at any moment, yet somehow never quite committing. It wasn't exactly ideal golfing weather, but there we were, clubs in hand, determined to make the best of it.

The sun was sparkling across the lake, laughter drifted across the dock, and the occasional splash of someone jumping into the water echoed through the Northwoods air. It was another beautiful summer afternoon at my brother Greg and sister in law Pat's cabin in Wisconsin, one of those days where no one was looking at the clock and everyone seemed perfectly content to simply enjoy being together.

After spending most of the day swimming, floating, boating, and relaxing on the dock, someone suggested we play Tip Cup.

There is something magical about summer evenings in the Northwoods of Wisconsin. As the sun begins to sink behind the trees, the lake takes on a golden glow and the air feels just a little softer. After a day filled with boating, swimming, tubing, skiing, surfing, fishing, and family time, there is nothing better than gathering together on the deck, sharing stories and enjoying each other's company.