CONCLUSION

TO WRAP UP THIS BOOK, I’d like to tell you the quick story of how I ended up here, as a champion for VRP. I want to explain my background, because chances are, we have a few things in common. Twenty years ago, I was in Minnesota, living in a condo downtown connected by a skywalk system to the Dain Bosworth tower. I was working on the 36th fl oor, and for several months out of the year, I almost never went outside. I just walked right from my condo through the skywalk system to work because it was so cold.

During those cold snaps, I basically only went outside to check out a property, to take pictures of a snow-covered fi eld for our next development, so I could submit them to the bank with a fi nancing package. It was miserable. I hated it. Like so many talented people I speak with today, I had pictures inside of my offi ce of tropical beaches, just so I could stay sane. I would sit back, stare at these pictures of beaches with palm trees swaying in a tropical breeze, and I would dream.

The next property we were going to do that year—1999—was in the Dakotas, so I had to drive north to check it out. It was midJanuary. As I drove, the temperature began dropping signifi cantly and it was soon 38 degrees below zero. I had to drive for three hours to take a photo of a farm fi eld and drive back. I was in a suit. Nevertheless, I drove up there and couldn’t even keep my windows clear.

WEALTH AS A VACATION

I got to the address, I grabbed my camera, jumped out of the car and I was immediately struck by how cold and windy it was. I ran to the fence line and I started snapping pictures. I could feel myself slowing down. I took maybe the fourth photo and the shutter freezes. The button won’t push anymore, and I could feel my fi ngers going numb. So, I turned around and went back to the car. You can go down in a minute in that kind of cold, and I barely made it back. Then, I couldn’t get the door open. As I struggled with the door, the numbness in my fi ngers spreading to my arms in the life-threatening cold, I thought to myself, “I am done, they will fi nd me frozen solid standing here gripping this door handle.”

Luckily, I did get it open and I had kept the car running. I sat in that car for probably an hour and half, shivering. This was a life-changing experience for me, an awakening to the reality that something had to change.

After a couple weeks, this particular development had run its course and my part was nearly over. I had a friend call me from a hotel in Central America. One of my skills is a particular kind of diplomacy when working with local government, municipalities, to get construction projects moving. I had never done this outside of the U.S. at the time; the only time I had been outside of the country was in the military, and that was three countries in Europe. But I had always dreamed about tropical locations (offi ce wall pictures), and this guy was calling me because he had gotten himself in trouble. They weren’t letting him move forward with his development, they had locked everything down and frozen his bank accounts because he had off ended somebody in the government.

I thought, “You know what? I’ve got time coming to me, and a tropical climate sounds pretty good.”

Two weeks after the life-threatening incident in North Dakota, I found myself landing in Belize, which happens to have an indoor/ outdoor airport. You get off the plane and just walk right across the runway and through the airport. The palm trees were blowing in the

CONCLUSION

wind and there was this incredible feeling of comfort immediately upon my arrival.

I spent the next two weeks with hat in hand, working with the local government and getting to know this small country’s leadership. I got the project moving forward again. I loved it.

To me, it wasn’t work. It was a morning spent in meetings and then an afternoon out snapper fi shing or laying on the beach. Pure paradise. On the weekends, I was able to explore beautiful islands located twenty minutes off the coast.

Then, it was time for me to return to Minnesota; I was all fi nished. I had to return to Minneapolis in mid-February, and that is right in the teeth of the worst cold in the upper-Midwest. February is just brutal; it’s like the last stand of winter. The winter’s not leaving without kicking and screaming.

Sitting in the airport in Belize, I remembered that I had parked my car in the Minneapolis airport ramp. Have you ever parked your car in the Minneapolis airport ramp in January or February? If you’ve ever done that, you know what I mean when I say I was not happy to realize I’d soon be dealing with that scene. Talk about a 20-below wind tunnel of cement. Anyway, I was sitting in the airport waiting for my fl ight, having a cold Belikin beer, and I turned to the back page of the USA Today. It featured a color weather map of the U.S. I could see that down in Florida, it was orange and red, and below that was where I was, in the 90s. I looked up, saw Minnesota, and noticed it wasn’t even blue. It was white. It was so cold where I lived that we couldn’t even have a color. It said the weather up there was 28 below zero.

I’ll never forget that moment, because it was when I said to myself, “That’s it. I’m not going to do this. I’m not going to toil away my life in a place with no color.” The decision was made.

My friend had said, “If you want to stay, I’ll let you just fi nish this project. Take it over.” Of course, that stuck in my head. But I was still hung up on my “responsibilities” back home, my condo, my fi shing

WEALTH AS A VACATION

boat, etc. So, I got back to Minnesota and immediately started divesting myself of all of my things, getting out of my partnership, doing all the little chores I needed to do almost subconsciously. I wasn’t even actually thinking, “I’m going back to Belize.” But when I got most of my work done, I did call the guy up a month later. It was March; it was still freezing cold.

The last thing that made the decision for me was a snowstorm—I think we got about a foot of snow—followed by another round of brutal freezing cold. I walked out on my porch that March to pick up the Sunday paper and I slipped on the ice. When you slip on the ice and land on cement, you feel like you’re shattering.

That was the last straw. I picked myself up, went inside, and started making real preparations to leave. That was 20 years ago.

I’ve not been up north since then. So, that series of events was my entry into this world of vacations and vacation rental property development and ownership. The Central American development I worked on got a hotel going with a bunch of homes around it called Clover Leaf Park. I bought two of those homes and turned them over to the hotel for rental. Back then, they didn’t do a great job at it, but I still made enough to pay all my bills. I still own one of those homes to this day. So, I got started in the VRP market before anyone really knew it was a thing.

CONCLUSION

Two or three years later, I was in Costa Rica meeting the couple I told you about earlier in this book. I slowly realized, “This is a real business. People are doing this and building a great lifestyle.” From California to Arizona, from NYC to the Midwest, from South and Central Florida to Antigua, Belize, Costa Rica, Panama, Mexico, and many more incredible locations, this business has proven to me that it is possible to have a “LIFE, as a Vacation.”

I can’t help but shar e some of what I’ve learned with you, because I want everyone to enjoy a good life. I want you to be able to escape from the cold if the beach is calling to you.

It’s never too late to design your life—and build wealth-as a vacation.