Those who know me well know two things about me:
1. I LOVE to tell a good story (and I might tell you the same one 5 or 6 times, so watch out);
2. I believe in the analogy, the allegory, and the axiom: basically, that we can find parallels, symbolism, and truths about one area of our lives in an entirely different area.
So with that said, let me tell you a good story that I promise to conclude with an analogy, an allegory, and an axiom!
As a high school sophomore, I went on a school-sponsored canoe expedition (just like the old French voyageurs) in Quetico Provincial Park in Ontario, Canada. This was no ordinary camping trip. It was 6 days, 12 people (3 per canoe), with no powered vehicles (air, land, or water) allowed, no buildings, no power lines, no roads…no sign of civilization. Each person had a 75 lb. backpack with personal items, tent, cooking equipment, and food…everything we needed (but NOT, for sure, everything we wanted, or thought we needed). We had to lay out our personal items before we left and the guide went through and eliminated what he felt we wouldn’t need. And everything we packed in, we had to pack out. No garbage cans.
A great mentor of mine from my high school was supposed to go up and chaperone. He had been a guide up there on several expeditions. He ended up being unable to go, but he gave me this great waterproof guide’s map of Quetico…with all the campsites he’d used in the past marked on it. I was also the most experienced outdoorsmen among the students, so I was set!
On the first day of the trip, our guide Steve decided to keep things light for us, let us get our feet wet (literally!). That first day was a series of small lakes and short (100-200 yards) portages – which, if you’re not familiar, involves beaching the canoe, unloading everything, and carrying all the gear: three packs, paddles, and canoe – over land to the next lake. Our group had never done anything together before…we were just kids from the same school. But we quickly had to learn how to make it work. We had no big guidebook, no real prior experience, and only Steve to answer our questions. That first day seemed rough, but we made it through and looking back, it was REALLY the easiest.
I started off in Steve’s canoe, and by the 2nd or 3rd day, it was clear to him I was more advanced than the others. He took me aside and asked me to command one of the canoes. That sounded great! I’m in! Then the bad news: I would get the canoe with the substitute chaperone. UGH! See, the substitute was the least outdoors-y teacher in the school. He was a canoe leader, and was doing poorly. He didn’t know what he was doing and, to make matters worse, he’d developed a bad attitude about the trip. He was miserable and was making others miserable. I’d be replacing him as canoe leader and he’d be in my canoe! Uncomfortable! I decided to say yes anyways, and off we went. My “favorite” comment he had one day, while canoeing across this beautiful lake, was “I HATE this G** D*** G**-FORSAKEN PLACE!” My answer was a wry “really? I think it’s pretty amazing.” I had to keep things light. Of course, with my trusty guide’s map, I knew exactly where we’d camp every night. But I was wrong…my map was a little old, and Steve had to keep correcting me: this site had a rockslide and was no good, or that site was too bear-infested.
The days went on, the lakes Steve took us across got larger, the portages longer…a half-mile, then the granddaddy one mile portage. I’m proud to say I carried TWO packs over that portage – one strapped in back and one in front – and I only stopped to rest once (a feat that I promise I can’t recreate today). But the teams got tighter, and as we became more experienced, we were able to go farther, produce more.
There were dangers along the way to be sure. One team member got a leach on his leg. One narrow passage between lakes, with faster water, that most people were portaging around, we paddled through. On Elizabeth Lake, there were reports of bears in the area. We had to paddle our food packs out to a tiny island in the middle of the lake and leave them there overnight so the bears wouldn’t be drawn into our site.
We pulled into base camp on day six, 10 grungy-but-seasoned kids, one great guide, and one still-cranky chaperone. That night, we had a little bonfire to relax and review with Steve. “Do you realize what you boys accomplished?” Steve said. “You just traveled 110 miles in six days, with nothing but yourselves and each other to rely on. You overcame challenges, you adapted to adversity, and you’re changed forever for the better because of it.” And he was right, on all counts.
So, do you see the analogy, the allegory, and the axiom? Let me spell it out:
Analogy: Agile software development is a wilderness canoe trip. We start out small to learn, and increment up to bigger and bigger challenges. We adapt to changing circumstances and use the varied talents of our cross-functional team to reach the goal.
Allegory: The expedition is the project, the canoe is a Scrum Team, the whole group is a Scrum of Scrums, the bears and leaches are impediments. Steve was a Product Owner. The chaperone was a discordant team member. The old map is a stale project plan. Sorting through our things before beginning is removing waste and technical debt from our process. The bonfire was a retrospective.
Axiom: Agile, folks, is what we already do in everyday life, certainly on a wilderness canoe trip. So if Agile principles made a potentially life and death trip something fantastic to enjoy and remember forever, what do you think chances are that they can improve our work developing software?
Note: Every word of the story is true. And I bet that chaperone is still cranky about the outdoors today.
As always, I welcome your comments.
