The 7-Minute Morning Huddle That Saves 7 Hours

Introduction

Last spring, my tripod sank so fast I thought it was trying to clock out early. We were ankle-deep in pudding mud, the data collector was blinking “LOW BATTERY” like a disco, and someone (naming no names, Trevor) forgot the rebar caps. We lost seven hours to shenanigans before lunch—half of it arguing over who was supposed to call in the utility locates and the other half inventing new swear words for sticky clay.

The next day, we tried something radical: a timer, a checklist, and seven minutes of actual crew communication. We timed it. Seven minutes. And the chaos? Gone. Okay, not gone—this is land surveying, not Disneyland—but dramatically reduced. Here’s how we run our morning stand-up now, and why it works whether you’re a two-person outfit or juggling three crews, a drone, and a client who emails in ALL CAPS.

Three Questions, No Rambles

A morning huddle is not a TED Talk. It’s a pit stop. Tight, quick, and no philosophical detours about whose thermos is the best insulator. I literally set a 7-minute timer on my phone. When it chirps, we’re done. The structure:

1) What’s your plan today?
One sentence each. “Set control at Willow Creek, stake north line, shoot topo of the culverts.” This locks the day’s intent and aligns the field-to-finish plan so the office knows what data to expect.

2) What could block you?
Think road closures, locked gates, grumpy goats (don’t laugh), dead batteries, missing permissions, or a locate ticket that expires today at 5:00 PM. Calling these out early gives me a chance to clear obstacles before they turn into a seven-hour detour.

3) What do you need from me or the office?
Base file updates, CAD layer templates, a revised scope, a contact’s phone number—say it now. If we need a revised drawing, the office flips it in the first hour, not while the crew is already back at the truck inventing interpretive dance to pass the time.

Rules of the road: no rambling, no story time, and no “Well, back in ’98…” I am allowed exactly one dad joke per huddle. Discipline is part of good surveying project management. Also, I hold the rebar caps hostage until the huddle is complete. Motivation matters.

Utility Locates: Assume Nothing, Verify Everything

If there’s one place a crew can waste a day (and occasionally a truck tire), it’s utilities. I treat locates like milk—check the date before you drink.

Our 60-second locate check looks like this:

• Ticket status: New? Open? Expired? If it’s within 24 hours of expiring, we refresh it now.

• Coverage: Public locates submitted—and any private utilities accounted for? Sprinklers, private power to the barn, dog-powered treadmill lines (ask me over a beer).

• On-site markings: Are the colors on the ground where the map says they should be? If anything looks “artistic,” we call the utility before the first stake goes in.

• Photos + notes: Crew snaps the paint and flags in context. This protects us later when someone swears the orange line was magenta and 12 feet to the left.

That little verify-everything loop has saved us from drilling a stake into a fiber line and from that most expensive of field activities: standing around waiting for an answer that a 90-second phone call could’ve resolved at 7:12 AM.

Hand-Offs Between Field and Office Without the Drama

You’d think the field and the office were rival high school bands the way they sometimes trade barbs. Our morning huddle is where we make the hand-off clean so the afternoon isn’t spent decoding each other’s hieroglyphics.

Here’s our quick pass:

• Base file & coordinate system: “Today’s base: WillowCreek_Base_v7.dwg, NAD83(2011), ground scale 1.000128.” No mystery scaling. No “Which v7?” panic.

• Layer + feature expectations: “Topo with culverts and driveway edges only—no tree shots today; client wants speed.”

• Naming + folders: “Job 24-116_WillowCreek\Field\2025-08-23\CrewA.” We don’t need a museum, just consistency.

• Photos & field notes: Phone pics go in Photos\Raw with automatic upload; paper notes get a flatbed scan when they return. If you can’t find it in two clicks, it doesn’t exist.

• Timesheets & codes: “Use ‘TOPO’ for first 3 hours, ‘STAKING’ for the rest; drone time coded separately.” If you want billing to be right, you have to tell it what “right” is. Otherwise you’ll bill a two-hour topo for a five-hour staking and your margin will cry.

That little checklist turns field-to-finish from a tug-of-war into a relay baton pass. The office is ready to draft while the field is still unspooling the tape, and no one has to call anyone “buddy” through gritted teeth.

The Seven-Minute Script (So Simple It’s Silly)

We keep it literally on a laminated card in the truck visor. Mud-proof. Coffee-proof. Gus-proof.

Minute 1–2: Plan & Roles

• Today’s goal (one sentence)

• Who drives, who sets control, who runs shots

• “Who’s grabbing the rebar caps?” (Say the name out loud.)

Minute 3: Safety & Site

• Weather check, PPE, access, neighbors, gates

• Known hazards (dogs, drop-offs, traffic)

• Nearest hospital or “the clinic with the good coffee”

Minute 4: Utility Locates

• Ticket verified, private lines considered, photos taken

Minute 5: Gear Scan

• Batteries 100%? Backup radio? Level bubble? Spare nails, caps, ribbon?

• Data collector storage free? (Ask me about the day we hit 0 bytes. On second thought, don’t.)

Minute 6: Office Hand-Off

• Base file, coordinate system, naming, deliverables, timesheet codes

Minute 7: Obstacles & Help

• What could block us?

• What we need from office/PM/client—assign an owner right now

That’s it. If we start wandering, I tap the timer like a referee. If someone goes on a tangent, I toss them a rebar cap like it’s a talking stick. Yes, we look ridiculous. No, I don’t care. Ridiculous and productive beats cool and behind schedule.

Why It Works (Besides the Threat of Gus’s Dad Jokes)

Seven minutes sets a rhythm. Crews know the dance, managers know when to jump in, and clients unknowingly reap the benefits. The compounding savings stack up across a week:

• Fewer returns to the shop for “that one thing.”

• Fewer site-side phone calls that start with “Hey, quick question…” and end 40 minutes later.

• Cleaner data for the drafters (aka happier humans who send fewer passive-aggressive Teams messages).

• More predictable days. Which means better invoicing. Which means better cash flow. Which means you sleep better and yell at the dog less when he steals your sock.

This is surveying project management at its simplest: short feedback loops, clear roles, and and just enough process to keep the wheels from wobbling.

Reflection / Nugget of Advice

If you’re thinking, “Gus, my crew will hate this,” I’ll bet a box of rebar caps they won’t—if you show up on time, keep it to seven minutes, and actually remove the blockers they raise. Leadership buys credibility when it turns “I hear you” into “I fixed it.” Do that twice and your crew will start showing up early, coffee in hand, ready to roll.

Start tomorrow. Don’t overthink it. Print the script, set a timer, and run the huddle even if it’s just you and your dog staring at a whiteboard. (Good listener. Terrible at pulling tape.)

Closing (And One Last Laugh)

We haven’t eliminated every setback. I still occasionally step in a hole that wasn’t there five minutes ago. But since we started the seven-minute huddle, we’ve avoided the seven-hour circus more times than I can count. And on the days we forget to huddle? Funny thing—we somehow forget the rebar caps, too.

Gus-ism of the Day: “Plan for seven minutes, save seven hours. And if you forget the caps again, you’re buying the donuts.”

Keywords for the robots who like to read: surveying project management, crew communication, field-to-finish.