Post by Erik Funfar

In my day-to-day role as a Partner at EY, I spend my time navigating the complexities of AI, technology, and energy transformation. It’s high-stakes, digital-first, and constant. But there is a unique, grounding clarity that only comes from stepping away from the screen to solve problems that can be touched. This trip, spent at our family’s lake in the Sierra Nevada mountains—a tradition we’ve maintained since 1982, with zero cell service or internet access—was the ultimate reset. The boat towing my son is a 1966 Hallett—an heirloom bought new by my grandfather, then a VP at Pepsi. This is the same boat my father learned to ski behind, the same boat I learned behind, and now, it’s my son’s turn. In the center sits a Ford 427 side-oiler with genuine GT40 history—completely exposed, no hatch, just the epitome of 1960s ski racing design. Before we could hit the water, we spent three days in the shop getting her dialed in. This machine is entirely analog—no digital footprints, no sensors, no software updates. Just pure mechanical architecture: points, ignition coils, and combustion. Troubleshooting a 60-year-old engine requires a different kind of problem-solving than I use in the boardroom. It’s tactile, unforgiving, and deeply satisfying when that engine finally catches and holds a perfect idle. There is something profound about the contrast: spending my working hours architecting the future of global energy, and my vacation hours ensuring the integrity of a 1966 power plant. I’m grateful for the culture at EY that prioritizes the time to disconnect and pursue these kinds of meaningful, physical challenges. Returning from these breaks, I find my perspective is sharper and my approach to complex systems is refreshed—all because I took the time to go analog. #Leadership #WorkLifeBalance #EY #MechanicalHeritage #Engineering #AnalogReset #Restoration #SierraNevada #ClassicBoat #427SideOiler

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