Creating Shared Experiences as a Currency of Connectedness

In the afterglow of what can only be described as a full-throttle, action-packed, never-a-dull-moment sort of Alaskan summer, I have been nostalgically reflecting on some of its most epic highlights. There were many: I witnessed a humpback whale do a full-body breach through the silvery surface of Kachemak Bay; I saw a giant eagle perched on some driftwood not five feet away from my husband Arron (WAC founder + CEO), as if legitimately posing for a selfie with him; a grizzly bear sleeping so close to me at the Alaska Wildlife Conservation Center that I could make out the leathery patterns on its ginormous paw; and whole armies of tiny red carnivorous plants dotting the spongy peat moss underfoot the peat moss itself like a vast swath of otherworldly soil.

And yet, none of these moments lit up my heart more than the actual feeling of being in the company of — and connecting with — my fellow Wild Alaskan Company teammates. Last week in this letter we shared some of the team’s reflections on this year’s semi-annual company gathering, so I thought for this week I’d share a few of my own.

As a company in which we all work remotely across multiple states, I can safely say that there is literally nothing more special than gathering in Alaska as a group, in person, and creating shared experiences — one of WAC’s core values that I cherish the most. This summer was the fourth time we hosted the team in this manner (fifth if you count the time Arron and I traveled with one of the early team members in a little motorhome throughout the Kenai peninsula on an R&D trip, long before WAC flourished into what it is today). 

This summer the program of activities, largely held in and around Homer, was amazing: hiking, fishing, kayaking, delicious food, awesome music, wildlife viewing and even a class that taught us how to pickle our fish. But there was something visceral in the moments between the moments, a kind of tethering of the spirits, that really struck me this time around. Yes, we were physically participating in activities as a group, but more than that, we were connecting and bonding over the kindredness of those shared experiences, at once deepening our relationship with not only Alaska, but also, and just as importantly, with one another.

Against the neon blue luminescence of a glacier chunk literally somersaulting into a new position one morning, we ate our sandwiches, collectively awe-stricken not only by the beauty of the hike to the glacier, but the fact that for some of us, this had been the third time we’d done it together. This time, I had the opportunity to hike with a longtime teammate who had open-heart surgery, watching her cry happy tears as she made it to the last stretch of the hike, proud of how far she’d come on her healing journey and thrilled to share that particular moment with the rest of us. 

On another morning, I shared a kayak with a teammate in a magical moment of bonding amid the wild theatrics of nature, the two of us suspended in the ebb and flow of the tides while two otters frolicked in their slithery water dance just feet away from our vessel. 

One evening, in a rustic barn over adult libations and decadent seafood mezzes, I got to hear one of WAC’s newer teammates’ karaoke rendition of Tracy Chapman’s “Give Me One Reason” that was so distinct and delightfully unexpected, that I find myself still thinking about it today; and in that same barn learned that many of our teammates can certainly cut a rug!

I even got to snuggle not one, but two of the WAC moms' new babies, watching these little guys take in the sights and sounds of Alaska with as much awe as the rest of us.

Throughout the onsite, wherever we were or whatever we were doing, every conversation I had seemed to have a common denominator: I not only love my job, but I love the teammates. And this gorgeous throughline, equal parts pride-in-the-work and closeness-to-the-crew, seemed to permeate across all departments. There were no silos or cliques. No sense of tribalism. It was approximately 130 people locked in a collective groove of gratitude, immersion, adventure and good old fashioned fun. A parting comment from one teammate says it all: “Thank you for making Alaska feel like a second home to us.”

In the past, when I’d think about how to define “a successful company” I might have imagined things like stats and graphs and growth trajectories, and markers like profits and revenue. But the WAC gathering in Alaska shows me time and again that one of the truest markers of success for a company is the togetherness of the people who make it happen each and every day. To get to work with this phenomenal group of humans on a daily basis is one thing, but to be able to witness the glory of Alaska as a group is one of the great experiential blessings of my whole life.

Live Wild!

Monica

Pictured above: Select moments from this summer’s onsite from the POV of my camera. I wish these photos could capture not only the true glory of Alaska, but also the depth of sentiment that I honestly felt at every moment of this journey together.