Build Your Damn Website
πΊοΈ The Trail Guide
Spoiler alert: your website is a living creation. It will never be a "set it and forget it" project. As you evolve, so will your message, your design, your call to action. So! Don't let your perfectionism or your overthinking brain slow you down here. Consider this your guide to Version 1: a version you're proud to share, but just the start of what's to come as you get in your reps.
Read this part first
This is not a page to read. It's a page to fill in. Type straight into the boxes. Everything saves automatically in this browser as you go. Use the buttons in the header to export or import your answers!
Here's the deal: the reason your website doesn't exist isn't that you can't code. Vibe coding solved the building problem. It did not solve the "what am I even saying" problem. That's this Trail Guide! :)
You might be building a website, but even deeper than that, you're building a point of view. Most websites are forgettable, and it's almost never the design. It's that the words could have been written by anyone else in the same field. What makes a site worth landing on is that a specific person with specific opinions clearly made it. That's what we're after, not a sales page. If you're selling something, great, there's a section for it. If you're not selling anything yet, this matters more, because your thinking is the reason people are coming.
There are five "merit badges" in this Trail Guide. About two hours of work total, spread across all five: one a day for a few days, or all in one sitting with a beer. Whatever gets it done.
Each badge lives in its own section, and shows up grey in the bar up top until you've filled in the answers that earn it. No fudging. Collect all five and the button at the bottom will hand you a finished script for your site, ready to paste into Claude Code. (Or, as I like to call her, Claudia.)
Time-box it. Set a timer for each sprint. Don't camp on any one section. First-draft answers are the correct answers here.
Move fast on the multi-part prompts. Where a sprint asks for several answers in a row, like the beliefs sweep, don't overthink any single one. First thoughts, not final thoughts. The strongest answer usually isn't the first one you write.
Stuck? Flag it, skip it, keep moving. Then bring it to me if you want to have a call.
π§ Badge 1: Orienteering
Most websites fail because nobody ever decided what they were for. They become a digital business card that costs $35 a year and does nothing. A site with a job is a completely different animal. Every choice you make later gets easier once you know what action or outcome the site is supposed to cause.
Sprint 1: The perfect-working scenario (5 min)
Imagine it's six months from now and this website is working perfectly. Don't describe the website. Describe what's happening in your life because of it. Be embarrassingly specific: a number, a person, an email you received, something that stopped being annoying.
Not: "I have a professional online presence." That's not an outcome, that's a feeling. More like: "Forty people read my spicy blog post and two of them wrote back." Or: "A race director found me without anyone introducing us."
Sprint 2: Pick the one action you're asking for (5 min)
Your site should ask for one action. Not because you can't fit more, but because a visitor offered five equally-weighted choices makes none of them. Everything else on the page is in service of this one action.
It does not have to be commercial. "Read what I wrote" is a completely legitimate primary action, and for a lot of you it's the right one.
Sprint 3: The referral test (5 min)
This is the most common way people actually land on your site: somebody says "oh, you should look up [your name]," and the other person Googles you thirty seconds later. That person arrives skeptical, distracted, and on their phone. They give you about ten seconds.
π§ Earn the Orienteering badge
You've earned it when you can finish this sentence out loud without hedging. The second blank has to be countable, not "when I feel proud of it."
βοΈ Badge 2: Excavation
Here's where most websites go flat. The About section turns into a rΓ©sumΓ©: a list of things you've done, arranged in order, written in third person for some reason. Nobody has ever cared about anybody because of a rΓ©sumΓ© on a homepage.
People don't need to know what you've done. They need to know why you're the one doing it. And that lives underneath the accomplishments.
Before you start digging: glance back at what you wrote for Badge 1, the outcome this site is supposed to cause. The story you pull up here should point toward that outcome. If your memory dump wanders somewhere unrelated, that's fine to notice, just steer back toward the version that serves the outcome you named.
The Root Story: How to find a narrative people connect to π³
π The leaves: the shiny stuff. The summit photo. The finish line. The credential. Beautiful, visible, and the most replaceable part of the tree.
πͺ΅ The trunk: what happened, in order. The narrative arc. Useful, but it's the container for the story, not the story. Somebody else's trunk looks a lot like yours.
π± The roots: the belief that got tested. The fear that surfaced. The moment something shifted in how you see yourself or the world. Nobody else has your root system. This is the part that makes a stranger trust you.
Sprint 1: Memory dump (5 min)
Set a timer. List every moment that pushed you toward this work. Big or small, recent or twenty years ago, flattering or not. Something that happened to your body. Something someone said to you. Something you said to yourself that stuck. The job you quit. The community you couldn't find, so you created it.
Sprint 2: The four excavation questions (10 min)
Pick one memory. Not the most impressive one. Pick the one that's still a little unresolved.
Sprint 3: Give it a job (10 min)
A root story on a website has to do something. Three lenses turn it from a nice anecdote into the reason someone keeps reading.
Those three, tightened into about 150 words, are your About section. You'll drop them into Badge 5.
βοΈ Earn the Excavation badge
You've earned it when you have ~150 words about yourself that start with a moment, not a credential, and when you can point to the one sentence in there that goes all the way down.
ποΈ Badge 3: Shelter Building
Every site needs a frame, something sturdy enough to hold up everything else you put on the page. That frame is what you believe. Not a tagline. A position you could actually defend.
Here's the test almost every website fails: could someone else in your world have written this? If the answer is yes, the site is decoration. It doesn't matter how good it looks. A stranger reads it, feels nothing in particular, and leaves.
You don't need to be selling anything for this to matter. If anything it matters more. When there's no product to point at, your thinking is the draw. It's the reason someone bookmarks you, sends your link to a friend, or remembers your name six months later.
Sprint 1: The beliefs sweep (8 min)
Don't overthink these. Fast answers, first thoughts. Get all four down before you second-guess any of them.
Now read back through all four. Which one made your chest tighten a little? That's the one.
Sprint 2: The line bank (8 min)
Same rules as the sweep: fast, first thought, no editing. These four lines won't all end up in the same place. Some become your headline, some become the section where you tell people what you believe, one might just end up as your Instagram bio. Write them now and you won't be hunting for them later.
π§ Break the block
Struggling to write publicly what you deeply feel? You're probably self-censoring. Hell, we all are to an extent! Everyone has a specific inner censor that shows up the second they write about themselves. Not a general fear, but a specific one, with its own voice and its own script.
- π The Spiraler: "I have too many unfinished thoughts and no throughline."
- π The Permission Seeker: "I should wait until I'm more sure. What if I change my mind in six months?"
- π The Pleaser: "I need to soften this so nobody's offended."
- π₯Έ The Imposter: "I don't have the credentials. I'm not a pro or an elite."
- π The Good Girl: "This is too much about me. Someone with a bigger platform should say it."
Want the full diagnostic? I built a Self-Censorship Block Finder that ranks all five so you know exactly which one to work on first. It takes about five minutes, it's uncomfortably accurate, and your results come with a breakthrough exercise matched to your loudest censor.
β Open the Self-Censorship Block Finder
Make your own copy, check every box that sounds like your brain, then click the Your Results tab.
ποΈ Earn the Shelter Building badge
You've earned it when you've circled the belief you're working with and filled in at least three lines of your line bank.
ποΈ Badge 4: Trail Cred
Somewhere on your page a visitor wonders: okay, but why should I listen to you?
Proof is how you answer that before they have to ask. It is not bragging. Bragging is talking about yourself with no one in mind. Proof is handing a skeptical stranger a reason to keep reading.
Most people assume this means testimonials. It doesn't. Testimonials are one option out of nine, and if you've never had a client in your life you still have plenty of proof. What you're really demonstrating is that you've actually done the work, not just read about it.
Types of proof: pick at least three
- Your body of work: essays, episodes, photos, past events. Three links to things you've made is enormous credibility, and it's available to everyone.
- Trip reports: what you did, told properly. Deeply underrated as proof, and the most fun to write.
- Numbers: miles, years, seasons, summits, episodes, people, hours in the field.
- The receipts: a photo of the moment itself. The finish line, the workshop, the room full of people, the trail you built.
- Fun facts: a short list of true, slightly odd details about you. Not credentials. Character. "Have DNF'd exactly once and still think about it. Own more headlamps than is reasonable." This makes people like you, and liking you is most of the battle.
- What you've learned the hard way: the mistake you made and what it cost. Counts as much as any success, and people trust it more.
- Borrowed proof: podcasts you've been on, where you've been featured, who's mentioned you.
- Named names: brands, publications, organizations, races. Logos work. So does a plain sentence.
- Testimonials: if you've worked with people. Specific beats glowing, always.
Sprint 1: Inventory (10 min)
Sprint 2: If you've worked with people (5 min)
Skip this if it doesn't apply. Plenty of you aren't there yet, and that's fine.
If you have, this is the only step in the guide that depends on somebody else, so don't leave it until the night you build. Pick three people and send this:
Hey! I'm finally building my website and I'd love to include something from you. No pressure and no big write-up needed. If you've got two minutes, could you answer these three?
1. What was going on for you before?
2. What actually changed?
3. What would you say to someone who's on the fence?
Whatever you send me, I'll trim it and run it past you before it goes anywhere. Thank you!
Question 1 gets you the "before," which is what makes a quote believable. Question 3 gets you the line that answers someone's last hesitation. "She's amazing!" is worth nothing. "I'd been putting this off for two years and had a live website by 9pm" does the whole job.
If you have nothing yet
Completely fine, and more common than you think. Use, in this order: a fun facts block, one trip report, three links to things you've made, and a plain sentence about how you work. Nobody is counting your testimonials. They're deciding whether you're a person who has actually done the work, and the fastest way to show that is to show the work.
ποΈ Earn the Trail Cred badge
You've earned it when you have three pieces of proof written out, at least one of which is something you made rather than something someone said about you.
π Badge 5: Trip Planning
For NOW, we are building one page. Not five. Not a site map. One scrolling page that does the whole job. Once you have that page live, feel free to vibe code to your heart's content!
One page loads fast, reads in one motion on a phone, can't hide your best material three clicks deep, and can actually get finished in an evening.
Now that you know the point (Badge 1), what makes you distinct (Badges 2 and 3), and your proof (Badge 4), it's time to map all of it onto the page. The list below is that map.
Sprint 1: The pack list (20 min)
Each row below is one section of your one-page site, in the order a visitor will scroll through it. In each box, write the words you want on your site for that section. Draft the sentences themselves, not notes about what the sentences will someday say. Where a row points back to an earlier badge, copy your answer in and shape it to fit.
Note the order: what you believe comes early, before your story, before anything you might be selling. That's deliberate. It's the part that decides whether a stranger keeps scrolling.
Rough is fine. Blank is not. This is literally what gets handed to Claude Code.
Add these if they fit your site
Not required, and not on the cut list either. These are good reasons to have a website. Add them if you'll put them to use:
- A blog or writing section: if publishing is part of the point, build it in from the start. Have two or three pieces ready to go live with it. Your line bank from Badge 3 is a good place to hunt for the first few topics.
- A contact form: good if you'd rather not put your email in public. Test it once after you launch.
- A gallery or trip report section: if the work is the images, give them room.
- A media kit or one-sheet: if sponsors and gigs are your one action, this is what they came for.
The cut list
Things people put on a first website that cost hours and earn nothing. Leave them off:
- Stock photos of mountains you've never stood on
- Your entire work history
- "Coming soon" anything. An empty room is worse than no room.
Gear check
Make one folder, on your desktop or wherever you'll find it, and drop everything into it as you work through this list. That's the one folder you'll point Claude Code to when you build.
Most of your people will see this on a phone. When you build, check the phone view before you check anything else.
π Earn the Trip Planning badge
You've earned it when all fourteen rows have words in them, your folder's named, and your photos are checked off. Not good words. Words.
π© Ready to vibe code your site?
Everything you've written is your script. The button below assembles all of it into a single block of text. That's what you paste into Claude Code when you sit down to build.
β Pause!
Let this all sit for a while. I'd suggest returning and reading through (and perhaps reworking) once more before you start the vibe coding process. Check that you've saved your work!
Once the tech guide comes out, make sure you have the gear below and you'll copy the build prompt.
The gear
Want to save a copy or start fresh? The buttons for that live up in the header.
Reminder: the first version you build is not the final version. Sites get edited constantly and forever, just like humans. You'll be able to tweak it soon. More importantly, YAY FOR YOU for getting these thoughts out of your head and onto a digital piece of paper! Getting intimate with your own POV and voice is the most important part of having a digital presence. SO. Onward. Email hi@angielake.com with what you thought of your Trail Guide.