Glen Tate - 299 Days - The Preparation

Now Grant had enough food and medicine for about six months in his storage unit. There was only one hitch; he had to get from his house to the storage unit to get them.

He figured a crisis probably wouldn’t unfold instantly; he would have at least a few hours to get there and load all the stuff. However, loading the stuff might be a problem. There was only one of him and no one else knew about the stash. Lisa, who was a foot shorter than him and very petite, could not lift the big tubs. Oh well, no plan is perfect. Having all those supplies about two miles from his house was much better than not having anything.

Grant started wishing he had a place to put the food, a place far from the city where things would be safer. A “bug out location” or “BOL” as they were called in the prepper community. A BOL would be great, but he didn’t have a fortune lying around.

Grant’s mom was calling. That was weird. She never called.

“Hi, Mom,” Grant said. He had decided long ago to be civil and respectful with his parents. He didn’t have to like them and he didn’t have to visit them, but he did have an obligation to treat them as normally as possible. He wasn’t a hater.

“Grant, the city is taking the homestead parcel,” she said. The homestead parcel was his Grandpa’s land in Oklahoma. It was not the ranch Grant would visit as a boy, but was a forty-acre parcel of land granted to Grant’s great grandfather in 1904 as an Indian allotment. It was next to the ranch and was where Grandpa’s brothers and sisters grew up in the 1920s. The homestead parcel was now owned by Grant’s mom and her siblings. The homestead had enormous meaning to Grandpa and Mom and others in the family. It was sitting in what was now suburban Tulsa. It was worth a fortune, but the family did not want to sell it.

Grant asked his mom about the details. The city was using good old eminent domain to get the land for a song and then would probably sell it to developers and make lots of money to fund city government. It was an outrage, but as Grant explained the law to his mom, there was nothing they could do about it except to get as much money as possible for the land.

That’s what happened. When all the legal stuff was over, Grant’s mom would receive her portion of the proceeds, about $250,000.

She said to Grant, “The accountant told me that we have to spend the money on real estate within the next two years or we get taxed on it.”

Great. The government takes your land and will then tax you on the “capital gain” of your “windfall” which is actually the forced sale of your land to them. But, on the bright side, it meant that Grant’s mom had to buy some real estate soon or have a good chunk of it taxed away.

That’s when it just came to him. A cabin. It was brilliant. That’s what he could do. Get a cabin. It would be about the same amount as the inheritance. In that moment, Grant wasn’t thinking about how the cabin would fit into his preps. He was just thinking about how he had always wanted a cabin.

In college, Grant spent a lot of time at his friend, Jeff Kozan’s, cabin near Seattle. He absolutely loved it there. It was on the saltwater on an inlet to Puget Sound. He could not describe why he loved it so much there. It was away from the city. It was quiet. Every single time he went there he had a great time.

One time, Grant, still the poor kid from Forks struggling through college, told Jeff, “Someday I’ll have a cabin like this. Not sure how, but I will.” Even back then in college, when it seemed impossible to actually have a cabin later, Grant knew — knew — he would have one. It was now that time. Grant could have a cabin.

“What should I do?”Mom asked.

“Buy some real estate,” Grant said. “I want to get a cabin nearby, on the water. Something simple but something that the kids can grow up in and have great memories of.” Grant then started to realize how a cabin would be the perfect bug out location. A place to go when a crisis hits. A place to store food and other supplies. A place to hunt and garden when food was scarce. A place to be safe.

He went on to describe to his mom the things he sought in a bug out location. He wasn’t telling his mom about the survival uses for the place; she didn’t need to know what he was doing. She was too old to travel there from Forks, anyway.

A bug out location needed to be away from the city, but not totally out in the boonies. This would allow Grant and his family to get out of a city in a crisis, but there would be enough people around the bug out location to help him protect it and to trade with. He wanted a place on the water; saltwater, preferably. Olympia was right on the Puget Sound so there were hundreds of inlets and coves on the saltwater. Saltwater had clams and oysters and plenty of fish and a person could connect by boat to anywhere else in the area. A lake didn’t allow that. And mosquitoes didn’t live in saltwater.

The past few years, on occasion, Grant would drive around some of the saltwater cabin areas near Olympia and dream about owning one just like Jeff Kozan’s cabin in college. Grant had some nearby areas in mind. He described them to his mom. He wanted a place that was an hour or less from his house so he’d actually go there often — like every weekend.

This is really happening, he thought. He knew — absolutely knew — that this “cabin” was going to be more than a place to have family barbeques in the summer. He was simultaneously amazed that this was happening, while at the same time he was calmly planning it out. It was the future and the present all at once. There was that feeling again; the future and present at the same time. Intertwined. Happening at the same time.

Grant’s mom said she could take a portion of the proceeds of the eminent domain proceeds and give it to Grant.

When the conversation was over, Grant said goodbye to his mom. He felt a little guilty taking the money because the homestead meant so much to her. But, Grant didn’t decide to sell it and she’d be taxed on the money, so the guilt quickly dissipated.

Grant told Lisa the great news. She didn’t seem so happy. It was pretty obvious that she didn’t like the idea of Grant’s idiotic family that had been so cruel to him, suddenly giving him something so substantial. Besides, Lisa and Grant had worked extremely hard for so long and had built amazing careers and they couldn’t afford a cabin. Now Grant’s family was just handing one to him.

In addition, a “cabin” was not Lisa’s cup of tea. It meant a second set of bills, a second set of maintenance, and a second set of all the crap that comes with owning a house. And Grant wasn’t exactly good at doing anything around their real house, although he was getting much better.

“I’m not doing crap out there,” she said. “No laundry, not paying the bills, nothing,” she said. Her response wasn’t exactly the joy of getting a free cabin he had expected.

“OK,” Grant said. It was very clear to him that his years of being a suburban slug were now catching up with him. She had a good point. He quickly said, “I’ll do everything out there.” He knew that sounded like a kid saying they’ll feed the stray dog, while the parent knows they won’t.

Grant knew how to get Lisa to warm up to the idea. He told Manda about it. She was instantly excited. Jump-up-and-down excited. She thought of the endless possibilities of sleepovers with her friends. Having a cabin was a big boost in the popularity standings. Cole was not too interested. It was hard to describe to him with words what a “cabin” was.

Grant and Manda spent that summer searching for cabins. During the evenings, they would get on the internet and look at listings. They would prioritize them and then make a list of places to go see that weekend.