travelling – Bully Media Inc

The Most Important Lesson I’ve Learned Working in This Industry

If there’s one thing this industry has taught me — the kind of lesson you only learn after years of trial, error, and stubbornness — it’s this:

If you don’t know what you’re building toward, everything around you will pull you in a hundred directions at once.

And not gently.

This space is loud. Everyone has an opinion, everyone has a strategy, everyone swears they’ve cracked the code. And if you’re not anchored by something real, you’ll find yourself scrolling Google for escape plans and foreign residency requirements before your coffee gets cold. (Hypothetically. Maybe.)

People see the final outcome — the polished videos, the polished projects, the audience numbers — and assume there’s a straight line connecting all of it. But nothing about what we do is linear. Growth has a personality disorder. Some seasons feel electric and effortless; some feel like you’re dragging the entire internet up a hill.

What has surprised me most isn’t the workload. It’s the emotional weight of leading something that has its own identity now. Wood Bully and Bully Media aren’t just “our businesses” anymore — they are a living, breathing thing with expectations, momentum, and people who rely on it. There’s a responsibility that comes with that, one that grows louder the bigger this gets.

And that’s exactly why Gordon built this the way he did.

Not for attention.

Not for clout.

Not for internet fame.

He built it because he hoped that someday, all of this effort would circle back to his family — to more time, more stability, and more choices than either of us had growing up. Wood Bully started as a way to build something that would outlive the hustle. Something that could create freedom, not chaos. Something that could rewrite what “work” looks like for our family in the long run.

The part people don’t see is that purpose evolves.

It’s not a moment — it’s a discipline.

A practice.

A constant recalibration.

Purpose is what forces you to make decisions that aren’t popular but are necessary.

Purpose is what keeps you from taking shortcuts when the easier road is right there.

Purpose is what stops you from letting ego run the show.

Purpose is what keeps the entire thing aligned when the outside world feels messy.

And in a space where trends flip every five minutes, where platforms reinvent themselves overnight, and where everybody swears they found a “new formula,” that purpose has become the only compass worth following.

I’ve learned that success isn’t one big decision — it’s a thousand tiny agreements you make with yourself:

Who you want to be.

What kind of company you want to run.

What kind of impact you want to leave behind.

What kind of example you’re setting while you build it.

Everything around Wood Bully has evolved. The audience, the content, the direction, the opportunities — all of it has changed dramatically from where we started. But the intention behind it hasn’t drifted even an inch.

We’re here to build something that outlasts trends, noise, and algorithms.

Something anchored in the kind of values that don’t go out of style.

Something our kids can look at and understand exactly what we stood for.

That — not the numbers, not the platforms, not the industry chaos —

is the reason we’re still standing.

And the reason we’ll still be standing ten years from now.

OC Lumber x Wood Bully

If you told me five years ago that I’d be traveling across the U.S. for two months straight with Gordon, building, filming, and chasing an idea that had been in my head for years, I probably would have laughed and told you that stuff just doesn’t happen to anyone. And yet, somehow, that idea — this crazy, half-dreamed, half-insane notion of a traveling carpenter media tour — actually happened. Twice. In 2024 and 2025, we set out on what became the OC Lumber Tour, and it was everything I thought it would be and nothing I expected at the same time.

The whole thing started in January 2024. I’d been talking about the traveling Wood Bully idea for years, begging Gordon to do it. And then, out of nowhere, we met Casey ( in person anyways) And Casey had been thinking the exact same thing. For a moment, it was almost unreal — like someone finally spoke the same language we’d been dreaming in all along. From that instant, everything clicked. Casey became more than a planner or organizer; he became a guide, a partner, and someone whose expertise we leaned on in ways I can’t even describe. He knows every hotel in the country, but he also listens, believes in your vision, and somehow manages to make chaos feel manageable. Having him there made this impossible dream feel achievable.

We left for the first tour on June 29, 2024, right after our son’s grade 12 graduation ( he graduated with honors 🎉) We drove to Washington, D.C., jumped on an overnight auto train to Sanford, Florida, and began the whirlwind. From there, we drove down to the Keys, settling into a hotel in Marathon right on the water. Huge iguanas wandered around the pool, completely unbothered by humans, and it was one of our first “holy shit, we’re actually doing this” moments. Florida stole my heart immediately.

From Marathon, the stops came fast: Key Largo, Fort Lauderdale, Fort Myers, Cape Coral(which Gord kept calling Cape Canaveral – I have the videos to prove it!) Sarasota (Siesta Key sunsets!), Bradenton, Winter Haven, and Orlando — after Orlando we flew home for four days for our son’s birthday. Then Clearwater, St. Pete Beach, a pizza stop in tiny Tarpon Springs, Hudson, Daytona Beach, Jacksonville, Savannah, Dutch Island, Charleston, Greenville, Birmingham, Nashville, Knoxville for a competition series, Charlotte, Wilmington (where we surprised Gordon for his birthday), Newport News, Baltimore (never again), Atlantic City, Barnegat, Long Island, Butler, NJ, and finally Providence, Rhode Island.

Every day was early mornings, building or appearances, sleep, then driving to the next city. Just Gordon and me traveling together. I handled production, logistics, and everything at home, while Gordon was the creative genius on camera. Casey and Kevin were there almost every stop, keeping everything organized, anticipating problems before they happened, and somehow making the tour feel possible. Casey’s dedication went far beyond logistics — he was our mentor, our problem-solver, the calm in the chaos, and someone who believed in us when we were still figuring out if we believed in ourselves.

Some moments were unforgettable. Watching Gordon, who couldn’t swim, get on water skis ( TWICE! ) was absolutely hilarious — and terrifying. He had practiced swimming in hotel pools for days beforehand. He was sore for a week. I laughed so hard I cried ( I also have videos of this). And there was that pizza in Wayne, New Jersey. I swear I dream about it all the time. And then there were the contractors everywhere recognizing Wood Bully — telling us we’d inspired them, taught them what they knew, or motivated them to start their own companies. That part hit me in a way nothing else did. All the chaos, stress, and long drives suddenly had meaning.

2025 was different. We went back to the drawing board and decided to slow down. Instead of flying in and out of job sites in a day, we stayed a week, really building relationships, learning from crews, and creating more meaningful content. We started in Detroit with Theo Von ( watching his stand up show ), then Cleveland, Massachusetts, Boston, Fargo (a two-day drive!), Short Grass Resort in South Dakota, Billings, Montana (where our brand-new vehicle broke down, nightmare), Toledo for the Owens Corning headquarters, and finally a bowling alley hangout before heading home. Spending more time at each stop made everything feel more connected — less rushed, less stressful, and way more rewarding.

Even the tough moments are now part of the story. The Billings breakdown could have broken me emotionally — six of us stranded, rentals, flights, logistics — but we somehow made it work. That experience taught me more about adaptability, patience, and teamwork than anything else on either tour.

Through it all, the biggest lesson was about people. Casey became family. Contractors became friends. Gordon and I learned how capable we really are, how adaptable we can be, and how incredible it feels to turn a five-year idea into a tangible reality. I also learned that I can thrive in chaos, that I can hold everything together when needed, and that relationships — real, honest, human relationships — are what make the grind worth it.

If I had to sum up both tours in one sentence, it would be: holy shit, that was epic. I can’t wait to do it again, and I know that with Gordon and the incredible people we met along the way, the next chapter will be even bigger.

I put some photos at the bottom because writing about this just doesn’t do it justice –

-Samantha

Why We Choose the Brands We Work With (And Why We Turn Others Down)

People see us working with big brands now and think it’s always been like this. Like companies just magically showed up one day wanting to partner with us. But anyone who’s been following us for a while knows that’s not the truth.
We built everything from scratch. We showed up everywhere before anyone even knew our names. We paid out of pocket for every trade show, every flight, every hotel, every meeting — all because we believed in what we were building long before the industry believed in us.
So when people ask, “How do you decide which brands you work with?” The answer comes from years of showing up, learning, getting burned, getting back up, and figuring out what actually matters.
Here’s how we choose — and why we turn others down.

We Only Work With Brands We Actually Use
This one is simple: if it’s not something we genuinely use on the job or in the shop, we’re not putting our name on it.
We’ve spent years in the trades. We know what works and what doesn’t. We know which tools hold up on a real jobsite and which ones barely survive unboxing. So if a brand reaches out and the product isn’t something we’d use in our actual work, it’s a no — even if they’re waving money around.
Our audience isn’t stupid. They can tell the difference between authentic and “I posted this because they paid me.”
We don’t play that game.
We Choose Brands Who Respect the Work Behind the Work
People think content is easy until they’re the ones doing it.
A 30-second video might take:
• an entire day of filming
• lighting
• audio
• editing
• reshoots
• approvals
• travel
• and then the posting schedule on top of it
Brands who understand that this is a production, not a hobby — those are the brands we work with.
If someone wants champagne content on a fast-food budget, we politely decline.
We’re Not the Shopping Network — We’re More Like National Geographic
This is a big one.
Some brands only care about ROI. They want instant sales, instant “use my link,” instant numbers to justify the partnership. And that’s fine — for creators who operate that way.
But that’s not us.
We’ve never wanted to be the “link in bio” people. We don’t run our platforms like a shopping channel.
Our storytelling, our videos, our series… they’re more like National Geographic: You watch, you learn, you get pulled into the world — and along the way, you see the tools and gear we use naturally.
We’re not out here trying to sell products just to make money. We want to showcase brands we believe in — not shove them in people’s faces.
And that’s why you don’t only see the products we use labeled as “paid partnership.” You see them:
• on real jobsites
• in random shop days
• in competitions
• in behind-the-scenes vlogs
• in travel builds
• in the messy, unfiltered real stuff
Because we use them whether the camera is on or not.
That authenticity is why our audience trusts us — and why the right brands want long-term relationships, not just one-off ads.
Loyalty Matters — A Lot
We treat brands the same way we treat people: if you show loyalty, we show loyalty.
We’ve had companies who supported us before anyone else cared. Companies who took meetings when we were nobodies. Companies who respected our time, our craft, and our growth.
Those are the brands we stick with.
And yeah — we’ve had the opposite too. The ones who wanted everything for nothing. The ones who talked down to us. The ones who treated tradespeople like we’re disposable.
Those partnerships don’t last more than one email.
We Run a Media Company — Not a Side Hustle
This is something a lot of brands don’t understand at first.
We’re not two people with phones making videos in between jobs.
We run Bully Media Studios. We run Wood Bully. We handle logistics, travel, production schedules, deliverables, crews, equipment, strategy — all of it.
We don’t guess. We don’t wing it. We’re professionals, and we expect the brands we work with to treat us like partners, not “influencers they can squeeze.”
If a brand can’t respect that, they’re not for us.
Sometimes “No” Is the Best Thing for Our Business
And honestly? It took time to learn that.
Early on, every offer felt exciting. But the more we grew, the more we realized that every partnership affects:
• our reputation
• our credibility
• our audience’s trust
• our relationship with other brands
• our long-term opportunities
A bad partnership can do more damage than no partnership at all.
So now, if it doesn’t align — we say no.
Whether it’s the wrong product, the wrong energy, the wrong expectations, or the wrong intentions… No is a complete sentence.

The Real Reason We Choose the Brands We Choose
Because we built this entire thing with our own money, our own time, our own hands, our own risks.
Because no one gave us shortcuts.
Because we fought for every opportunity.
We choose brands who believe in the work we do — not just what we can sell.
We choose brands who value the relationship as much as the content.
We choose brands who support authenticity, creative freedom, and long-term growth.
And because of that, we have the confidence — and the experience — to turn down the ones who don’t.

Travelling + Being a parent

People romanticize travel like it’s some dreamy montage of airports, hotels, new cities, and “living the life.” But when you have kids—five kids, to be exact—travel stops being glamorous real quick. For us, travel started back in 2020 when my youngest was almost three, and honestly? It hasn’t really stopped since. Most families take a vacation once or twice a year; we somehow built a life where suitcases never get fully unpacked, passports live permanently in our backpacks, and every month we are figuring out what’s next. And sure, there are cool moments. There are memories we’d never have if our life looked “normal.” But nobody warns you about the part where traveling without your kids creates a version of parenting that looks nothing like what people imagine.

People hear “touring all summer” or “trade show season” and picture adventure, momentum, and opportunity. And yes—it’s absolutely all of those things. But it’s also the reality of hugging your kids goodbye for weeks or months at a time, missing birthdays and school events, and knowing that life at home keeps moving whether you’re there to see it or not. Even though our tours, trade shows, and appearances are all within North America, the distance still feels huge. You’re working, creating, and building something meaningful, but a part of your mind is always anchored at home. You think about the routines you usually run, the conversations you’re missing, and all the little things only a parent really notices.

And when you are home? It’s not the “rest and reset” people assume it must be. It’s catching up on everything that piled up while you were away. Laundry, meals, school updates, appointments, schedules, and the hundreds of small decisions that keep a household running. The stress doesn’t disappear just because you’ve crossed a border back into your own driveway—it just shifts from work mode to home mode. Running a household from the road becomes a full-time side job: coordinating schedules through spotty service, FaceTiming during the only hour that overlaps, helping with homework between commitments, and managing life from hotel rooms and highways. It’s a juggling act that no one trains you for.

With five kids, there’s always someone who needs something—support, structure, attention, reassurance—and when you’re away, you feel every single missed moment a little differently. Not in a dramatic or guilt-heavy way, just in an honest, “this is the reality of our lifestyle” way. You parent from a distance, you stay involved however you can, and you remind yourself constantly that you’re doing this for your family, even if it means being physically away from them more than you’d like. It’s a strange balance: loving the work and the opportunities, while knowing there’s always a version of home you’re temporarily stepping out of.

Traveling without your kids isn’t glamorous, and it isn’t terrible—it’s just real. It’s beautiful, messy, fulfilling, overwhelming, and meaningful all at once. It’s the constant back-and-forth between showing your kids what hard work looks like and wishing you could bottle every moment you miss. People see the photos, the projects, the places, the highlight reel. But the truth is simpler: traveling without your kids comes with its own weight, its own sacrifices, and its own rewards. At the end of the day, no trip, no tour, no project compares to walking back through your front door and hearing five voices yelling for you all at once.

And honestly, even with the challenges, I know we’re giving our kids a life I never imagined for myself. They’re growing up with experiences, opportunities, and perspectives I didn’t have—and that makes all of this worth it. We’re lucky, and I don’t take that for granted for a second.

-Samantha

THE TRUTH ABOUT WORKING WITH GORDON

(AKA: I Love Him… But Also, Please Send Help)

People always ask me,

“What’s it like working with Gordon every day?”

And I never know where to start, because the experience lands somewhere between:

• business partner

• husband

• tornado

• golden retriever with tool belts

• genius

• chaos generator

• and entertainment channel all in one human

So here it is.

The truth.

What it’s really like working with Gordon.

⸻

1. He has two modes: Silent Carpenter & Stand-Up Comedian

There is no in-between.

One minute he’s laser-focused, cutting a perfect angle in complete silence.

The next minute?

He’s talking to the camera like he’s on his own comedy special, making jokes I’d never think of in a thousand years.

You never know which version you’re getting — it’s honestly half the fun.

⸻

2. He can build anything… but he cannot find anything

Gordon can build a deck from scratch with six boards and a dream.

But ask him where the tape measure is?

Suddenly it’s:

• “Where did YOU put it?”

• “It was JUST here.”

• “Someone moved it.”

• “It’s gone forever.”

Meanwhile, it’s behind him.

Always behind him.

Every. Single. Time.

⸻

3. He forgets he’s mic’d

This happens DAILY on the road.

He’ll start talking about the most random out of the box stuff, and then our team immediately hears it through the headphones like:

“…the mic is still on.”

He does not learn.

He will never learn.

We’ve accepted it .. but thank god he hasn’t used the bathroom mic’d up yet ( although its probably coming )

⸻

4. He is allergic to sitting still

If Gordon has to sit through a meeting longer than 8 minutes, his knee starts bouncing like he’s trying to launch into orbit.

He’s built for movement.

For doing.

For being hands-on.

So when he does sit still?

It’s suspicious.

Like “What are you planning?” suspicious.

⸻

5. He has a memory like a steel trap for builds… and absolute Swiss cheese for everything else

Ask him the pitch of a roof from two years ago?

He remembers.

Ask him what he had for lunch?

He does not.

Ask him the measurements of a job from 2022?

He’ll tell you to the millimetre.

Ask him to remember what time our flight is?

Good luck.

⸻

6. He gets recognized… everywhere

Grocery store?

Drive-thru?

Airport security?

Random parking lot in another country?

Someone always goes,

“Hey… Pay attention Brian!!”

And Gordon instantly goes from human being to celebrity:

“Oh hey man, how’s it going?”

“Let’s get a picture.”

“What are you building right now?”

He loves people, and people love him — which is why this whole thing works.

⸻

7. He works harder than anyone I’ve ever met

This part is serious.

Behind the jokes and the chaos and the cameras, Gordon is:

• up all night editing

• the last one to stop – he answers messages LATE into the evening

• professional

• respectful

• loyal

• committed

• and genuinely invested in every build, every episode, every partnership

He doesn’t half-do anything.

If he’s in, he’s all in.

⸻

8. He is NOT a planner — that’s my job

If it were up to Gordon, he would:

• film whenever

• travel whenever

• just “figure it out” when we get there

Meanwhile I’m behind him with:

• schedules

• shot lists

• itineraries

• approvals

• logistics

• backup plans

• backup backup plans

Our dynamic works because we’re opposites in the best way.

He builds.

He performs.

He shows up.

He brings the energy.

I build everything around that so it actually runs.

⸻

9. He makes everyone feel seen

Whether it’s a massive sponsor or a brand-new builder with a small following, Gordon treats everyone like they matter.

He listens.

He asks questions and answers questions

He lifts people up.

He tells them they’re good at what they do.

That’s rare.

And it’s one of the reasons this brand exploded the way it did.

⸻

10. He is the reason this whole crazy thing works

Working with Gordon is:

• nonstop

• unpredictable

• hilarious

• exhausting

• inspiring

• and never boring

He’s the heart of Wood Bully.

The face of our content.

The reason people watch.

And the glue that somehow keeps this wild, growing, ever-evolving business grounded.

Without him, none of this exists.

Without me, he’d miss every flight and show up to the wrong job site.

So it balances out.

And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

— Samantha

FROM LABOURER TO FULL-TIME CONTENT CREATOR (A STORY I DID NOT SEE COMING)

If you told me a year ago that I’d be writing a blog post for a media company, I would’ve laughed, brushed the sawdust off my shirt, and asked if you were feeling okay. Because up until recently, my entire life was job sites, lumber, labour, tools I’m still surprised I survived using, long days, and constantly asking, “What’s next?” every five minutes. I was a labourer. That was my lane — safe, predictable, sweaty, familiar. And then everything changed.

How I Got Here (Accidentally, On Purpose)

I started with Wood Bully doing the most basic labour work: hauling materials, helping on builds, being the extra set of hands, saying yes to everything because that’s what you do when you’re learning. Then one day, someone handed me a camera — probably because they just needed someone to grab a couple shots. But “grab a couple shots” turned into “Can you film this?” which turned into “Can you film that?” which turned into “Okay, you’re actually pretty good at this,” and eventually, “Congratulations, you’re full time now.” I went from labourer to content creator faster than I could figure out how to turn airplane mode off.

What I Do Now

If you ask me what my job is today, the honest answer is: everything. I film, edit, learn new gear, travel, shoot thumbnails, record audio, capture behind-the-scenes, stay caffeinated, try not to drop expensive equipment, and pretend I know what I’m doing until I actually do. And I love it. Even when it’s overwhelming. Even when I’m exhausted. Even when my camera battery dies at the worst possible moment (which is always).

Travelling for Content — The Part I Didn’t Expect

If you’d told me I’d go from job sites to airports, I would’ve laughed again. But now I’m on the road constantly — filming tours, competitions, contractors, events, brands… everything. I’ve learned how to sleep sitting up, how to carry gear through a terminal like it’s a newborn, how to film in 100-degree heat, how to film in weather that makes me question all my life choices, how to work in hotels that were definitely decorated in 1993, and how to keep up with Gordon and Chuck (which is nearly impossible). Filming in new places is wild. Filming while trying not to get in the way is even wilder. But it’s the best part of the job.

Editing: The Part No One Sees

People see the final videos, not the late nights, the endless timelines, the hours trimming clips, the “Where’s that file?” panic, or the colour correction marathons. They don’t see the audio chaos, the re-edits, the re-re-edits, or the existential crisis when something exports weird. Editing is where everything comes together — where I get to help tell the story. That part hooked me. I went from building decks to building videos, and honestly, it feels like the thing I was meant to do.

What It’s Like Working With The Crew

Working with Bully Media feels like jumping onto a moving train — fast, chaotic, hilarious, unpredictable, and somehow the best decision I’ve ever made. Gord pushes me creatively, Chuck keeps things fun, Samantha keeps us alive and organized, the team keeps growing, and I’m learning nonstop. It’s the kind of environment where you grow because you have no choice but to grow — in the best way possible.

Who I Am Today

I’m still @camerononsite — that part hasn’t changed. But now I make content, tell stories, travel, edit, work with incredible brands, film builds people actually care about, and I’m part of a full-blown media team. I went from swinging a hammer to holding a camera, and somehow it feels like the most natural transition ever.

Where I’m Going Next

Honestly? I’m not totally sure. But I know it’s going to be good. More filming. More travelling. More learning. More storytelling. More growing with the Bully Media team. More stepping into this new version of my life. Whatever comes next, I’m ready for it.

— Cameron (@camerononsite)

HELLO WORLD — The Beginning of a Much Bigger Story

So… apparently I’m writing a blog now.

If you’ve followed us for any amount of time, you’re probably thinking,

“Samantha, don’t you already have enough going on?”

And honestly? Absolutely not. Bring on the chaos.

Anyway — hello.

Welcome.

Grab a coffee, or a snack, or one of those little granola bars you pretend is a meal.

This is where the real story starts.

Where We Were (AKA: The 2019 Era of Pure Madness)

Back in 2019, I had no idea what we were building.

Gordon was building decks.

I was building… sanity? Systems? Something like that.

What started as “Let’s post a few videos” somehow three years later turned into:

over a million followers
a full-blown media company
sponsorship’s from companies I used to be too scared to email
events, competitions, build-offs, and whatever else we’ve accidentally invented along the way

Snowballed is an understatement.

Avalanched feels closer.

One moment we were filming in a backyard with one camera.

The next minute we had Chuck throwing out one-liners, Cameron editing ten videos at once, Gordon teaching the internet how to hold a hammer, and me running a company that somehow became… a thing.

Where We Are Now

Today, we run Bully Media Inc., a full media company that does everything from YouTube competitions to sponsored content to full-scale productions that somehow always involve sawdust.

I say “we,” because this entire operation is a team effort:

Gordon – The on-camera chaos generator, builder, storyteller, and sometimes the reason I need Advil.
Chuck – Our resident comedian/content machine.
Cameron – The editor who somehow turns 40 hours of footage into something people actually want to watch.
Shannon – Making sure we don’t miss any deliverables, all our contracts are up to date and TRYING to keep the competition series on some sort of schedule
Me – The one running the business, organizing the circus, and pretending I don’t have 47 tabs open at all times.

We’re a little dysfunctional, but it works.

Somehow.

Why This Blog Exists

Here’s the thing: social media doesn’t always show the real stuff.

This blog will.

The plan?

Everything. Literally everything.

The behind-the-scenes
The travel
The construction stories
The business stuff
The things we get right
The things we absolutely do NOT get right
The moments where we laugh
The moments where we nearly throw our phones across the room
The things Gordon says off-camera that probably shouldn’t be public but… here we are

This isn’t just an update feed.

This is the start of a much bigger story — the one we’re still writing, the one no one sees on Instagram or YouTube.

And honestly? I think it’s going to be fun.

What’s Next

This is just the “Hello World” moment.

The very beginning.

You’ll hear from me the most, but Gordon, Chuck and Cameron (yes, all of them, willingly) will be dropping their own posts from time to time — so buckle up for whatever that ends up looking like.

If you’re here, welcome to the chaos.

Welcome to the journey.

Welcome to the story behind everything we do.

Let’s see where this goes.

— Samantha