Taking a Break Without Breaking the Business

Introduction:

Another tale by Gus the Surveyor...

Let’s be honest—stepping away from work sounds good in theory, but actually doing it is another story. I spent five years glued to my field gear and office, convinced I couldn't afford even a long weekend away. This post is about how I finally broke that cycle, and what I learned when I traded the jobsite for a lakeside hammock.

I Didn't Know I Needed a Vacation Until I Took One

Let me paint you a picture: I'm standing in the middle of a quiet campground, pine trees swaying, birds chirping, the whole nature thing going on—and in my hand? My phone, trying desperately to find a signal. On my vacation. My wife looked at me like I had two total stations for eyes.

Truth is, I didn't really know how to take a vacation. Not a real one. For 5 straight years, I ran my surveying business without missing a beat. Holidays, weekends, birthdays—they all blurred into traverse lines and job sites. I wasn’t trying to be a hero. I just didn’t know how to let go.

But when my knees started sounding like a broken tripod and my brain felt more fried than a July worksite, I realized something had to give.

The Fear of Letting Go

I'll admit it: the idea of taking a vacation used to scare the plumb out of me. What if the crew couldn’t handle a tough client? What if a job went sideways and I wasn’t there to fix it? What if the phone rang and nobody picked up?

I remember one year, I actually booked a cabin in the mountains. Told my wife, packed the truck, even bought new hiking boots. We made it 30 minutes down the road before I turned us around. Some "emergency" with a data collector. Turns out, they just hadn’t charged the battery.

Surveying is high-stress work. You don’t clock out mentally just because you close the laptop. That lingering fear—that you’re the glue holding it all together—keeps a lot of us from stepping away.

But here's the kicker: that glue thing? It's only true if you never teach anyone else to mix the paste.

Planning Like a Surveyor

The only way I finally took a vacation was by planning it like a jobsite.

I made a checklist. I handed off responsibilities. I ran the team through what-if scenarios like it was a FEMA drill.

Turns out, if you spend a little time training your crew, double-checking systems, and setting clear expectations, they won’t just survive while you’re gone—they might even thrive.

We say in the field: "Trust your back-sight." Well, I learned to trust my team the same way. That didn’t mean everything went perfectly. It meant I could walk away knowing they had the tools, the judgment, and the support to handle whatever came up.

Actually Leaving (And Staying Gone)

I left my phone in a drawer at the rental cabin. That was the big move. Scariest thing I’d done in years.

I won’t pretend I didn’t reach for it every time I heard a bird tweet or the wind sounded like a ring tone. But I stayed strong. We hiked. We fished. I read a book without sticky notes in the margins.

And guess what? Nothing burned down. No clients showed up at my door wielding pitchforks. The world kept turning, and the crew handled business like pros.

More importantly, I came back rested. My mind felt clearer. I stopped snapping at the dog and started looking forward to projects again.

What Happened While I Was Gone

I did get one check-in call from my crew about halfway through the trip. My lead guy started with, "Don’t worry, everything’s fine," which is how you know it’s not.

Turned out, someone accidentally double-booked two jobs, and there was a momentary panic. But instead of calling me right away, they figured it out. Rescheduled one, called the client, and even threw in a discount to smooth it over.

I couldn’t help but grin. The kid I hired out of school five years ago had just handled it better than I would’ve. Maybe because his blood pressure is lower. Or maybe because I finally gave him the room to grow.

You Deserve a Break, and So Does Your Brain

If you’re a surveyor—or in any high-stress, full-time gig—and you’re scared to take a break, hear this from a guy who used to think vacation was a four-letter word: You can do it.

Start small. A long weekend. A no-phone Sunday. Train your people. Build your systems. Then go.

Get your boots off. Let your mind wander. You might find, like I did, that the only thing more refreshing than a cool drink after a hot day in the field is the feeling of knowing your team’s got your back.

And hey, if you’ve got a vacation fail story (or a surprising success), send it my way. I’m always down for a good laugh—preferably while reclining somewhere sunny, holding absolutely no equipment.