LAKE DAYS | JULY 2026 - Volume 6

If you had asked me a few years ago what our summers would look like, I never would have described anything close to what happened last year.

For nearly fifteen years, I worked from home. We homeschooled our kids, lived out in the country, and spent most of our time focused on family life. We weren't isolated by any means, but our world was fairly small and predictable. Then we opened the shop, and almost overnight, our lives changed.

Every day brought new people through the door. Some needed repairs, some needed parts, and others simply stopped by with questions or to talk motorcycles. What surprised me most wasn't how many customers we met... it was how many eventually became friends.

One of those friendships started with a customer who was launching a jet ski rental business. Like many relationships in this shop, it began with a simple repair. He came in needing work done, then stopped by again, and before long our conversations about machines turned into conversations about family, business, and life.

Eventually, he invited us out to the lake.

Now, there are certain perks that come with owning a powersports shop. Sometimes customers want a second opinion on how something runs, and occasionally that means getting handed the keys to a jet ski and being asked to take it out on the water. My husband never seemed to mind volunteering for that assignment, and neither did the kids.

Before long, weekends started including trips to the lake. We spent afternoons watching people enjoy the water, helping where we could, and getting to know people we'd only met because we decided to open a repair shop. The jet skis were fun, but what I remember most are the conversations.

One thing I've learned since opening the shop is that people rarely stay strangers for long. You learn about their families, their jobs, their hobbies, the mistakes they've made, and the adventures they're planning next. Somewhere along the way, they stop feeling like customers.

By the Fourth of July, we found ourselves back at the lake with people who had entered our lives through the shop. As the sun started to set, boats drifted across the water and campers filled the shoreline. Music played in the distance while families settled into lawn chairs and kids made one last lap around the campground before dark.

When the fireworks finally started, the entire lake seemed to stop and watch. Colors reflected across the water while cheers echoed from the shoreline. For a few minutes, nobody was thinking about work, bills, repairs, or responsibilities. Everyone was simply enjoying the moment.

Standing there watching fireworks burst over the lake, I found myself thinking about how much our lives had changed. A few years earlier, our family spent most of our time at home in the middle of nowhere. Now we were celebrating summer with people we'd met because we decided to open a powersports shop.

When we first opened the business, I thought we were building a place to repair motorcycles, ATVs, and jet skis. What I didn't realize was that we were also building connections.

The machines brought people through the door.

The people are what made us stay.

Looking back, the jet skis were fun and the fireworks were beautiful, but the friendships are what we'll remember most.

Of course, not every person who walked through our doors arrived with a boat, a camper, or a jet ski.

Next month, we'll tell you about a woman who pushed a lawn mower through the Oklahoma heat, accepted payment in popsicles and kindness, and left behind a story that still makes us stop and think.