Building from Broke

We had a great little libertarian commune going for a number of years. We had fruit trees, a greenhouse, bees and a big garden. A bunch of us worked well together to live pretty cheap in a town where wages and cost of living don't sync up very well (everywhere nowadays, right?)

Then life happened and some shifts occurred and it was time to find a new home. Being an entrepreneur, the idea of renting was abhorrent as I like the money coming in not going out, buying a single family home seemed boring so I started to look around for commercial property so I could house my other businesses and pay myself rent while living above or below the offices.

One day my real estate agent said something like, "I have this really weird property you might like." The idea of MTBCity had been rattling around in my dome for about five years. So when we drove down the hill to the end of Wilder Street and Spring Meadow State Park spread out in front, Mount Helena loomed mightily to the South and Scratch Gravel Hills appeared to the North, I knew we'd found MTBCity.

There were only a two problems:

  1. We were broke.
  2. It looked like a Super Fund Site that used to be an atomic bomb testing village wrapped in a junkyard with a bumper crop of knapweed.
"We can do this! Right?"

"We can do this! Right?"

The good thing about being broke is you're usually hungry and hunger is the best motivator.

Out came the only pennies I'd ever saved, my 401 (k). Everyone said we were crazy, and they were and are right. But, in the past nine months we've shown this ground the love it deserved over the decades of being Helena Asphalt, then a completely neglected corner of town called "Moccasin Hollow" by the residents where the collective goal was to keep property values low.

The piles of tar are gone, the debris is cleaned up, the broken barbed wire fences have been recycled and in two months, boulders will be moved, trees and grass planted, fences built and the most awesome MTB wheel shaped fire pit will be poured. All for you...our future friends.

 

CONRAD EVARTS