It looks like the stuck astronauts are coming home.

Not that they were ever really "stuck." At least, not in the way the media made it out - which was as if they would be left to die in space.

Back in June, I said they would get home in an Uber instead of their Starliner.

Yesterday, NASA announced that SpaceX will provide the Uber.

Growing up with the Space Shuttle program, it was unfathomable to think that a private company would ever manufacture a vehicle capable of carrying humans back and forth to space...

When Sam and I met Kyle, the kayak instructor, yesterday, he said, "My job is to make sure that by the end of the day, you're hooked."

It didn't take that long.

I was hooked in less than one second after my boat hit the river.

Which was about half a second after Kyle shoved me (in the boat) off a rock they call Seal Point, which sits about six feet off the water. If you try something new, you might as well make a grand entrance.

But let's back up a little bit...

Around 3:00 in the morning, Sam and I woke up to driving rain.

"Good," I thought.

It was his first overnight backpacking trip, and I'd sensed him being a little nervous about not having a tent.

Now he knows not to worry.

Despite the downpour, we were plenty dry under our tarp, except for his feet sticking out. He doesn't remember me waking him up to fix that problem.

As the rain fell, I drifted back to sleep, happy to be in my element...

This post will be deemed, by many, as political.

It's not, and to minimize the knee-jerk "screw you, lefty" reactions from the folks still clutching Pearls over their pancake syrup, let's get my politics on the table and out of the way.

1 - I believe "wokeness" is a giant, steaming pile of bullshit and is totally out of hand.

2 - I believe it is absurd that we allow biological men to compete in women's sports.

But again, this post isn't about politics.

It's about shades of gray, manufactured outrage, and modern media outlets playing us for fools as they fatten their wallets…

One thing I miss when we travel is my cold plunge. In The Adventure Truck or an Airbnb, we usually have almost everything we need to carry on as if we were home.

But I can't haul a cold plunge, and finding an Airbnb with that setup is rare.

That doesn't totally stop me—I've filled a bathtub with ice more than once—but it does make cold plunges rare when we're on the road.

And here's the thing.

After just a few plunge-free weeks, you lose your tolerance pretty quickly…

A while back, I decided to do out-of-the-ordinary things when I travel.

Like seeing something most people don't get to see.

Old underground nuclear bunkers, for example, are on that list. I'm not talking about the little ones that folks built under their houses. I'm talking about the big ones built by the governments in the Cold War era that have multi-story buildings and can house hundreds of people.

Or meet famous people.

But not just any famous people…

I promised Sloper I would tell this story, so here goes.

A couple of weeks ago, I walked over to a massage place on the beach in Mexico.

$60 for a 90-minute, four-handed massage?

Sign me up!

Or not - they weren't taking walk-ins.

But no problem. In this part of Cabo San Lucas, massage places are everywhere, and the owners and massage therapists often advertise out front.

"Massage, señor?"

I picked one that looked about like any other and stepped inside…

I'm heading to PA today after I drop Julia at the airport.

Thank God, I'm ready to get the hell out of D.C.

This trip has been a disaster…

On the flight to D.C. this morning, I started reading "Dumbing Us Down: The Hidden Curriculum of Compulsory Schooling" by John Taylor Gatto.

In the forward, by Zachary Slayback, were these words:…

Our trip to Mexico turned out differently than expected.

First off, there wasn't supposed to be a trip to Mexico.

I had to be in Cabo San Lucas for a few days, but Julia and I were supposed to meet in Sacramento afterward for a stateside road trip through the Sierra Nevada Mountains.

Of course, that all changed when The Adventure Truck never made it to California…

If you saw yesterday's video of my oh-so-graceful exit from the surf in San Jose del Cabo, you know I still have a lot to learn about surfing.

I have a lot to learn about everything, which is the entire point of being here.

Sure, Julia and I are bumming around Baja now, but it was the opportunity to be surrounded by people who know more than me about the businesses I operate that brought me here.

I've long since passed the age where I knew everything and didn't need any advice.

Nowadays, assuming the room is full of intelligent, talented people, I prefer to be the dumbest person in the room.

This got me thinking about some advice I recently heard on the ballfield at one of Sam's games…

So. . .

If you've been following along, you know that Julia and I are supposed to be in the Sierra Nevada Mountains right now.

You may have noticed that she arrived in Mexico yesterday and that the Airbnb where we slept last night is pretty far from Donner Lake near Truckee, CA.

That's because The Adventure Truck®, which should have been waiting for us yesterday at the airport in Sacramento, never made it.

And since the car hauling company didn't bother to tell me their truck had broken down in Philadelphia, PA, I was unaware of this until about 20 hours before we would board our separate flights to rendezvous in the Golden State.

Uh oh…

It's been an exciting time here on the southern tip of the Baja Peninsula. So far, I've surfed the biggest waves of my life, had the best tacos ever, wound up in the wrong kind of massage parlor, had an incredible steak in the top-rated steakhouse in Cabo San Lucas that turned out to be a strip club, and been pulled over by La Policia.

Those are all stories for another time, but suffice it to say it's been fun and games so far. This morning, I'm going on one more trip to the surf beach, and then the event that I came for—a conference with other real estate investors—gets underway…

Someone asked me once the advice I would give my younger self if I could travel back in time. Here's what I'd say…

Sometimes - maybe even most of the time - when you've got something you want to do, people around you will tell you it can't be done.

Or that you're crazy.

"That will never happen," they say…

After the ballgame on Saturday, I took Sam and his friend to TopGolf.

It was an intermittent fast day, so I'd not eaten anything in about 15 hours and was starving.

My go-to when I eat out is a cheeseburger - no bun - and hopefully with avocado and an egg.

I'll take a side of fruit if I can get it.

Both were on the menu, but the waiter looked down and shook his head when I asked if the fruit was fresh.

"I mean, I wouldn't order it."

Not that I had high hopes for TopGolf food in the first place, but I'll pass with that kind of response.

But - tater tots?…

On my way home from Lincolnton yesterday, I spit hot coffee all over my dashboard.

Moments earlier, a broker I was talking with said, "Man, everything you touch turns to gold!"

Cue the spitting of coffee and laughter on my end.

Clearly, this guy doesn't know me.

Because I have failed - plenty of times and in many hilarious and disastrous ways.

But I don't care.

Failure isn't all bad.

Approached carefully, failure can be good…