The eWalk Chronicles

Five years ago, when we started business, a realtor told me to turn off the lights and go home the first 10 days of August. She said that all of the realtors would go on vacation and that there would be nothing for us to do.

She was extremely accurate the last 4 years. We usually get a couple of phone calls a week during the 1st 10 days of August. So we’ve come to count on this time for vacations and “projects”. We always have software and marketing stuff that never gets done when we are busy; so this “down” time has become very valuable to us.

SO WHAT HAPPENED THIS YEAR? WHY AREN’T YOU GUYS GOING ON VACATION!:-)

Our business show few signs of slowing down. Our number of tours / month will be consistent from May through August.

Can anyone speculate on wassup? Why are the reatlors still working during the time they normally go on vacation?

Amazing - we just had a tour cancelled for tomorrow. Well, that wasn’t the amazing part - the amazing part was that the person called and aplogized profusely for the late cancellation notice because she couldn’t cancel during surgery! She said she had some unexpected surgery yesterday; had tried to cancel the tour before then, but the hospital wouldn’t let her take her laptop into the surgical room. She was just now out of surgery, and this was the first chance she had to call us.

Personally, if it had been me, cancelling my tour would have been the last thing I would have thought about. So I’ve got an incredible amount of respect for this person’s professionalism.

The longer I’m in this business, the more astounded I’m at the lengths realtors go to. I suspect that buyers and sellers would stop trying to negotiate comissions if they spent 3 months in a realtor’s shoes!

It was early spring and we had plenty of precipitation a few weeks prior to my shoots. I was right on schedule and making good time on my way to my Pioneer shoots (high country in Amador County). I even called my next appointment in Pioneer because I was going to be a full hour EARLY!

So, my journey began.

I started up Omo Ranch Road going great, but then I started seeing snow along side of the road. Hmm, I thought that was a bit strange because it hadn’t rained for a few weeks and it wasn’t “that” cold out. Then I crossed a cattle guard with a big sign that said “road not plowed” and some fine print that said “impassable in winter”. But heck, I had a big four wheel drive truck - ¾ ton Dodge Diesel! A bit of snow wouldn’t slow me down!

Well, it got real slippery about halfway up Omo Ranch Road. I turned uphill, but instead spun out. I had the truck in 4-wheel by then so, just backed up and tried again. But instead of backing up the truck went SIDEWAYS, and suddenly – I was perched precariously on the edge of a 300 FOOT DROP!

I found some tree limbs and started digging out the tires. I laid some branches under the tires, and tried edge my way out. Instead I lurched even FARTHER over the edge of the 300 foot drop. Every time I moved, the truck slid further and further towards the point of no return.

Then a miracle, my cell started working! I called our adm at the office and let her know I was “running late” and that I might need a helicopter to get out, but before I could tell her where I was, the cell dropped.

Ugh. I sat there, tired from digging, actually sweating. It was cold, but not cold enough to keep the snow from melting a bit and making it real slippery. I thought about those guys who get stuck in the snow and then they find them 5 days later all frost bit - didn’t sound like much fun, especially since I was only wearing a short sleeve shirt!

About 30 minutes later a little Toyota truck with big knobby tires drives up with a couple of guys who are “playing in the snow”. Between smirks and bursts of outright laughter they ask if I needed some help. I have a ¾ ton Dodge Diesel and they have a little Toyota truck – it really hurt to say yesL

They pulled on my truck; I slid further down the hill. The biggest problem was the guy in the Toyota couldn’t shift because he had a beer in his right hand. I finally convinced him that I could safely hold the beer while he drove with 2 hands. But he kept looking at my truck and asking me why he should trust someone who drove off cliffs to hold his beer.

We finally cut enough limbs off of trees and laid them down around both our trucks to form a huge bed of branches large enough to give us traction. Then I convinced the driver to let his partner hold the beer. With the combination of branches and shifting, the Toyota was able to finally rescue my forlorn looking truck.

I was only about 5 miles from my destination in Pioneer at this point, but there was no way I was going to continue. So I backed up for 2 miles, all of the way out of the snow road, with the Toyota in front of me, both guys laughing the entire way.

I did finally make it to my Pioneer tours – I drove about 75 miles to reach the destination that was 5 miles away previously and was only 2 hours late!

I certainly learned my lesson. Never let your big American iron truck get in trouble in the presence of a clearly not-as-cool smaller vehicle. The humiliation is not worth being savedJ

I was recently shooting a tour for Miriam Chirko of Coldwell Banker, one of the top realtors in San Mateo, CA.

When I arrived, the workers weren’t quite finished cleaning. No big deal, as we often work around and with these guys.

I took most of the shots, and was about to shoot the front, when Miriam realized the driveway was covered with leaves, dirt, and assorted trash. She asked the workers (there were 2 of them) to take care of it, but no one moved very quickly.

So…faster than a seller asks for 5%, she had the leaf blower on her shoulder, turned it on, and began clearing the driveway. I was shocked by how fast she grabbed the blower, started it, and began working. We are talking seconds for the whole process. Clearly this is a person who knows her way around heavy equipmentJ

Miriam wasn’t exactly dressed in the proper attire for driveway blowing, as you can see by the picture. The juxtaposition of a professionally dressed woman blowing dirt and leaves away was startling to say the least. But amazingly she didn’t look any worse for the experience when she finished and put the blower down,

It reminded me one more time of how much work realtors do that they don’t get paid for, or in many cases like this one, don’t even get credit for. I don’t think the homeowner saw any of it.

I certainly hope that they get many offers, all over the asking price, and the Miriam gets her just reward!

I was doing a shoot in a town home complex in Almaden Valley in San Jose a few years ago. While shooting the outside, I noticed a bobcat watching me. He didn’t seem afraid or dangerous, just curious as to what I was doing. He kept about 15 feet away from me; if I went towards him, he backed up, but if I walked away he followed.

 So as a lark, as I was walking in the front door, I shot the picture you see here. That was when all heck broke loose!

We would still be there except that the gardener for the complex happened by and heard all of the commotion. He got a rake and a broom off of his truck. I’d poke the Bobcat with the rake, and the gardener would swat and guide him in the right direction with the broom.

We finally got him out. But as I got into my car to leave, I noticed that he was standing in the brush 5 feet away from the lawn. I wonder what happened when the homeowners came homeJ

My son went on my shoots one day. Returning home at dusk, we heard a loud “thump” on the windshield. Backing up we found a stunned and apparently dead Screech Owl lying in the road.

My son picked it up because he has a soft heart for animals. He started giving it mouth to beak resuscitation in an effort to revive it.

You can imagine the picture – a 14 year old blowing into the beak of a 9 inch screech owl. Suddenly the owl came alive! (Not sure if it was the hurricane level winds from my son’s breath, halitosis, or just time.)

But instead of being grateful, the owl grabbed my son’s upper and lower lips with his claws! The owl is screaming, my son is screaming, and I’m just trying to stop the car.

In a scene from the “Owl Whisperer”, my son calmed the owl down and got him perched on his finger. The owl appeared OK. My son – not so well with 12 puncture wounds surrounding his mouth.

Here is the picture we took:

The owl tried to fly away, but was too wobbly and crashed into the mail box. We picked him up, put him back on my son’s hand and tried again – this time he whacked the side of the house.

We let him rest, and then perched him up again. 3^rd times a charm and he flew off into the night!