right place, right time
A few days ago, while waiting in line for my burger, onion rings and huckleberry shake in the charming lake town of McCall, Idaho, I met a stranger. We hit if off instantly, and he told me a good story.
He owns a cabin there and spends a couple weeks each summer at it. He’d first come to McCall forty-five years ago and bought his cabin (located right in the heart of town) for $10,500. The owners were days away from foreclosure, and my new friend stepped in, making deals with three creditors: a couple local banks and an individual. The note in third position for $20,000, the bank signed off to him for $900. McCall wasn’t McCall yet.
Today, that house is worth close to $1,000,000.
“Right place, right time,” as the saying goes.
We’ve all heard those stories. My dad tells about growing up in the ‘70s in Crested Butte or Telluride, Colorado, where they were practically giving away real estate that’s now worth millions.
Looking back, it’s always so stunningly obvious what could’ve been. But opportunities rarely announce themselves, and when they do, it’s usually subtle.
I’ve told a few of these stories before. The $3,000 train car, the 5 acres of swamp that became Live Oak Lake, the little rock cliff that became a world-famous waterfall swimming hole, and many more.
The magic happens when the right pair of eyes and a determined dream match up with even the most ordinary place or thing. It almost always “takes a village” to make something great. But, it also almost always begins with just one person willing to see what others don’t.
the backside of nowhere
A few years back, my dad found a small national forest inholding for sale about an hour up into the middle of nowhere from our home in north Idaho. No utilities or cell coverage for many miles, about thirty minutes down a gravel logging road.
