… into unexpected places. Trouble is, most of the places they flow into are totally obvious when you step back and examine the landscape.
Last month when I was in Whistler touring the Peak 2 Peak I had a remarkable encounter.
I’m no skier, and certainly didn’t look like one that day. Of the handful of people riding in the cabin with me, I was the only one in jeans sans ski wear and snowboard. I was also the only one snapping pictures.
That invited an obvious question: What was I doing there? “Work,” I said to the young Aussie that asked. Not wanting to intrude on their time, I left it at that, but they wanted to know a little bit more.
What kind of work? Logical question, really. What kind of work involves taking pictures of a gondola in jeans and a jacket in January? I wasn’t even wearing gloves.
After explaining the concept of urban gondolas another man in the cabin spoke up. “Oh, yeah, they’re planning one of those in Toronto,” he said.
They’re not, of course, planning one in Toronto (not yet, at least), but a recent article in the Toronto Star newspaper had led him to that conclusion. The rest of the gondola ride turned into a conversation about cable transit.
Everyone in that cabin understood the concept. They got it. Little explanation was necessary. Why? Because they were skiers and snowboarders who’d been doing it for life. Gondolas were natural to them. When asked if they would be scared to use one as transit the Torontonian just scoffed and asked “Why would I be?”
Ideas, like water, are dynamic things. They aren’t static. They move, evolve and flow into the path of least resistance. Water doesn’t flow uphill, after all.