And you will hold a special place in their hearts for having suggested and prompted the actualization of their dreams.
The Great Alaskan Highway Ride
Waving to Santa in North Pole, Alaska
The final day of our trip began with a temperature of -40ºF (which we
learned was also -40ºC--the single point on which they agree) and we
drove in the early morning hours along the edge of a 65-mile-long lake.
We were thrilled to find a gas station along the path with both
gasoline and hot coffee. The proprietor took one look at our truck,
determined we were novices, and prepared a cardboard shield for our
radiator. He told us, "You won't get much farther in these temperatures
without this. I don't think you'll want to get stranded along the
highway at this time of the year."
I don't suppose we do.
And so we wrote "Fairbanks or Bust" on the cardboard
and began our way along that treacherous highway.
The man at the station had informed us that, although it was more
barren and treacherous to drive at this time of year, it was a much
smoother ride. He told us that driving this highway during the summer
was like bouncing up and down on waves due to the heaving caused by
extreme congealing and expansion of the road between seasons. The snow
and ice filled the road in and made it smooth sailing. We were happy
for our good fortune. Cold we could tolerate--12-hour amusement park nausea we could not.
Within 350 miles, we could see road signs pointing
the way to Fairbanks. The last town we passed through before our
arrival was North Pole, a place where the bulk of Santa's mail gets
sent. We were too tired to stop and visit, and so we simply waved on
our way through, jotting down St. Nick's zip code as we passed.
Upon seeing Fairbanks, we were immediately shocked
back into civilization. Fairbanks is an old oil town, rough and tumble
in appearance--quite a shift for the eyes and soul after staring at
ice-bound tundra majesty for hundreds of miles. We found Nate's
450-square-foot cabin cloaked by five acres of woods, with no running
water. I knew then and there that in this remote wilderness, he would
be in his glory.
The costs were threefold: a bad back from almost 60
hours in a cramped truck cab, $3,000 in moving expenses and a plane
ticket home, and a headache from hearing enough bluegrass music to last
me a lifetime.
The rewards? An irreplaceable experience and an
opportunity that would not present itself again. I am so grateful for
taking the time to make that trip.
Some people need to spend money to make such a
moment in their life, while others will need only to halt their busy
lives and just spend the time. Either path requires a purposeful
allocation. Those who make the investment know that the dividend checks
never stop coming.
And how valuable is the personal finance advisor being there to make sure it happens?
©2007 Mitch Anthony. All Rights
Reserved. Mitch is the president of the Financial Life Planning
Institute and Advisor Insights Inc. He is an industry leader in
training advisors on building life-centered relationships. His numerous
books include The New Retirementality and Your Clients for Life. He can
be reached at [email protected].