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One Water
One Water is a book about Alaska through the lens of a young drifter seeking meaning in this world and discovering it in the Alaskan backcountry and in the stories of some of the people who take a ride in his taxicab.
Rob Mccue takes us on a journey through the Alaska Wilderness to the streets of its second largest city in a quest to better understand whatever in the heck is actually going on in this world. The book is not merely a narrative of his adventures but also contains descriptions of the geological, biological, and climactic circumstances that have shaped this great land. The book is also a coming of age story tracing the course of a hedonistic young drifter slowly accepting his transformation to adulthood (or close to it, anyway) and his role as a member of a family.
A Night on the Town
Interior Alaska in winter is a dark ocean, and we live miles beneath the surface. The cold resents our presence, our warmth an impediment to its equilibrium. It's nothing personal, just a fact of our planet's orientation to its host star: the axis around which the Earth rotates is tilted slightly relative to the orbit it traces around the sun, probably knocked out of whack by a meteor impact way back, before history. Due to this perfect imperfection the north is angled away from the warmth and light for months each year.
Don't get me wrong, I'm thankful for these circumstances. If it were otherwise, the hordes from the Lower 48 would've swarmed here long ago and obliterated this place with the same urban sprawl that's chewed through the natural world to the south. The cold here in January freezes your flesh in seconds, and during the few summer weeks mosquitoes rise from the swamps by the trillions and our streets are littered with the sucked dry bodies of their victims. All in all, these inconveniences are boons.
Another good thing about winter is that it generates its own economy, sustaining us when we begin to second-guess our memories of summer. Mechanics, septic steamers, snowplow operators, tow truck drivers, furnace repairmen, woodcutters, drug dealers, cab drivers—we're in it together up here, consuming food, booze, sex, money, diesel, sharing our mutual desperation until the sun returns.
I've driven a cab here in Fairbanks for twenty years. When the cold comes, people's cars quit working. They lose their will to walk. They need to leave the house before they hurt someone, or get hurt. They call me.
My wife, Michele, is a high school teacher, English and yoga. We first met some twenty years ago on a ferry traveling down the Inside Passage. It was December, cold and wind wracked. I was with a buddy, but Michele was alone. We slept in sleeping bags under heat lamps on the solarium, the glassed-in rear deck of the boat. The walkways around the ship were coated in slick ice, and we bucked into a strong headwind. We found that if you released the handrail near the bow of the boat, the wind would sweep you over the icy walkways to the stern in just a few seconds. We found that a buzz heightened the sensation.
My buddy was a guitar-playing, bear-biologist woman-wooer. Michele turned him down. She thought he carried his instrument as though he were displaying his penis. I never made my move, but on the last day of the trip she came and kissed me. She was waitressing on the Kenai Peninsula, just north of Homer. I was in school in Fairbanks, preparing to flunk out of college for the fifth time. We swapped phone numbers.
In the springtime I went to visit her under the pretense of watching Mount Spurr erupt, visible from the trailer she was living in. But before I left Fairbanks, I got together with another woman. I've never stepped out on a partner; despite my many flaws I've managed to hold onto that. Michele and I couldn't be together then, is what I mean—which was messed up too. She was lonely, and it probably would have done us both some good. She eventually quit the restaurant and went to work for Fish and Game, counting salmon returns on an island in Prince William Sound. Eventually she came north and enrolled at the University of Alaska Fairbanks, but she never contacted me, and by the time we ran into each other again she was with another guy who she eventually married—and divorced.
We'd been leading separate adult lives until a few years ago—well, adult might be stretching it for me. She'd gotten her degree and a teaching certificate and a job at a local high school where she works to this day. Everywhere we go, people aged sixteen to thirty, smile and approach us and say, "Hello, Ms. Robinson." Her former students. A lot of people recognize me too, the cab driver, but usually they're not sure from where so they just stare a question at me to see if I respond. But regardless, there are a hundred thousand people in this town and six hundred thousand in this state, and we're part of that, part of something. And our son, Cord, he's almost three, he's a part of it now too.
He's upended my perspective on this world. He's how I take measure of myself, who I was, where I've been, who I am now. He's the reason for understanding the stories I've lived, the stories around me every day, so that from here on at least, I'm aware of trying to be the guy Michele saw something in a long time ago.
Driving a cab is essentially gambling, but it's a good enough bet and doesn't involve staring at a computer screen, working on a utility crew outside in the winter, or smelling like stale french fry grease. I don't show up at a certain time and leave at a certain time and get paid for the time in between. Instead, when I show up, I owe the owner of the company ninety bucks for the twelve-hour lease. When I'm done with the car, I'll put around fifty bucks in the gas tank. I keep the balance, if any, and go home. Nobody much cares if I show up in the first place. Most of my fellow drivers would prefer I do something other than take food out of the mouths of their children.
There are usually enough drivers to keep the owner rich and pay the dispatchers, insurers, managers, and mechanics. There are usually even enough to get the customers picked up in a somewhat timely manner. In fact, there are often more drivers than good fares on a given night, and we battle each other like dogs for the scraps that cover our expenses.
The company doesn't really care how an individual driver makes his money. We get to do it how we want, as long as we pay the lease and don't get caught by the police doing anything illegal. Some choose to make their living by providing transportation to the people who call the company for a ride. Some like to sit around the airport or cater to personal calls. Others might choose to sell drugs, arrange for prostitutes, or steal trips from other drivers.
However one decides to approach the job, it starts with the dispatcher, usually an underpaid over-caffeinated guy with enough attitude to take the shit from drivers, management, and customers and throw it right back. He spends his eight hours seated at a desk equipped with five phone lines, a two-way radio, a clipboard full of trip logs, and an upright steel board, sixteen inches tall and thirty inches wide.
The board displays a grid of three rows by seven columns. Each column represents a different zone in the city. Cabs in the top row are red and are available for a trip; cabs in the middle row are green and have customers; cabs in the bottom row are picking up. They don't get a color. The drivers are represented by numbered magnetic buttons stuck to the board, each button corresponding to a particular cab.
You radio the dispatcher telling him where you're going, or where you're clear, or when you change zones, and he moves your button around the board as you try to pick up the most trips and win the big money. We're little free-willed markers on the board game of Fairbanks.
It's 4:30 when I show up. The sun's been down more than an hour, early January, forty-five degrees below zero. The yard is layered in ice fog churned from the rumbling V-8 motors of the cabs waiting for night drivers. The warm water vapor from a car's exhaust is cooled nearly three hundred degrees within ten seconds of leaving the tailpipe. The super cold air is too dense to absorb any of the vapor, so it turns into tiny hovering ice crystals. Add in the warm water discharged from the power plant; the emissions of all the woodstoves, furnaces, and boilers; and the exhalations of every living thing and our town is swaddled in a toxic gauze.
From negative forty on down, the taxis are left running to avoid the risk of freeze-up and lost revenue. Can't see fifty feet.
I walk into the smoke-filmed walls of the dispatch office that smells of stale cigarettes, fresh cigarettes, coffee, old dog, and microwave. Smurf is dispatching, talking on the phone. All lines are lit up. There are thirty-eight buttons on the board.
"I can't send ya a cab if you won't give me the apartment number. So last chance, what's the number? Ten or less, belookin'," he slams down the phone, picks it right back up. "Eagle and Yellow! . . . Which door ya at? . . . What's your name? . . . Okay, Randy, I'll send one." Slams down the phone, picks it back up, "Eagle Yellow Cab! . . . Is who workin'? . . . No, he went home already, ya need a cab?" Slams down the phone, picks it back up. "Eagle Yellow! . . . At the parking lot door? . . . Five minutes." He slams down the phone, hits the foot pedal microphone key while writing in his personal hieroglyphics on the trip log. "Eagle 17!" he says.
"Eagle 17," a surly nasal male voice croons back.
"Get Tanana Chiefs at the parking lot door!" Smurf replies, depressing and releasing the foot pedal in rhythm, moves seventeen's button.
"Check," says Eagle 17.
"Yellow 72."
"Yellow 72," answers a guarded female voice.
"Take it south, get the Rescue Mission for Duano."
"Yellow 72 check."
"Eagle 46 . . . Eagle 46!"
"Eagle 46."
"You called me, 46!" yells Smurf.
"Oh, um, I'm green to um (squawk) . . . Fred Meyers."
"Oh, um, geez, which one!"
"Oh, um, in the west."
"Oh, um, golly, why don't you get Tristan at the B door?" bellows Smurf. "Eagle 46!"
"Um, Eagle 46."
"Listen to your radio and get Tristan at the B door when you clear."
"Uh, Eagle 46, check?"
"Now who's next?"
A wall of static erupts from the radio as several drivers key their microphones at the same time. Smurf stretches back and sighs, lights a Marlboro.
I throw five dollars on the trip log in front of him. Part gratuity, part protection money.
He turns to me. He has a big drinker's nose, a thinning mane of golden hair, and a wolfish Irish grin. I've watched him battle his personal demons for close to twenty years now. A trail of broken bottles, used hypodermics, meth memories stretching behind him, out of sight. Now, all that's left are the medications, the battered liver, the clogged arteries. The doctors told him he can have a new liver if he stays clean for a year. I hope he makes it. The man's got the love in his heart, and that's all that matters to me.
"What d'you want?" he asks.
"I don't know. I thought I'd try drivin' a little taxi cab."
"I don't know. You think you can handle it?"
"I'm not sure. I heard it requires great mental agility."
"Fuckin' A right."
"But they let you do it?"
"'Cause I'm fun to watch. What are you drivin'?"
"I'll take twenty-nine."
"Go get the Fred Meyer liquor for Regina."
"You still here? . . . Eagle Yellow! . . . That was number twenty-eight? All right, right away." Slams down the phone. "Yellow 100 get Wedgewood M like your mama 28." Slides one hundred's button from the top row to the bottom row in the north column.
A voice with a Tajikistan accent says check.
"Okay, drivers, red cars only, one at a time please." I close the door as another wave of static breaks from the radio.
I feel like a pinball that Smurf has shot into the night. Like some intricacies of spin, velocity, and position have cast me to the inevitable.
Town sneaks up on you in the ice fog. Stoplights and other cars appear out of nothing, and then they're gone. Ghost lights. A hundred years ago the roads were just trails from the river, through the spruce, to the cabins of the pioneers and prostitutes. In 1938 residents approved a measure to pave the roads. It had been a hot-button issue for many years. Incoming pilots had been able to identify the dust cloud of Fairbanks from eighty miles away.
It takes five minutes to get to Fred Meyer. When I enter the parking lot, I catch a glimpse of an old Athabaskan man in a Carhartt suit with the hood up. He holds a sign with big military surplus mittens. The sign says, "homeles veitnam vet plese help." No sooner than I see him he's gone in the fog and steaming train of headlights.
At the liquor door Regina comes striding out pushing a loaded cart with three kids under ten behind her, respectful. I pop the trunk of the Ford Crown Victoria and help load her bags.
As we leave the lot she sees the man with the sign. "Jesus Christ, is that Uncle Melvin, kids? Could you stop for a second?"
"Uncle, is that you? Jesus Christ, what you doin'? It's too cold to be stannin' around like that."
A big beauty of a broken-tooth smile breaks across the old man's weathered face like sunrise. He steps toward the cab and raises his hand.
"Uncle, get in the car with us, huh, we got moose stew at home. You can stay there."
The old man seems hesitant.
"We got beer there too, c'mon and get in with us." The smile gets bigger, and he climbs in. Cars behind us start to honk.
I take them to a house in the Hamilton Acres subdivision, a middle-class neighborhood north of the river. They give me $8 for a $6.20 meter. I thank the lady and help get the groceries to the door.
Back in the car I call on the radio, "Eagle 29."
After a pause the dispatcher comes back, "Eagle 29."
I say, "Red North, Glacier Street."
"You're six North."
Yikes. This means I'll get the sixth call out of this zone. I decide to move, gun the car sideways on the ice back up Farewell, catch the yellow light on the Steese Expressway, and make a left. I have the mike in my hand and call as I go through the intersection. The dispatcher calls back, and I tell him I'm red City as I cross the bridge over the Chena River.
"Get Smith Apartments, number nine."
A young Athabaskan man is outside the drab building. This place has an unfavorable reputation, a home for low-income tenants and their no-income friends. When I get a call here, I go in with the doors locked, ready to check for money, which is kind of an awkward thing to do. But this guy's holding some, and I unlock the doors.
He gets in, mid-thirties, weathered, smelling of vodka. The rigidity pickled out of his bones, a rumpled ten in his hands.
"Where to?"
"Twenty-First and Gillam, I guess."
"Time to quit drinkin', I guess. Just gotta get someplace where I can rest."
"All right."
After a couple minutes he says, "You ever feel alone?"
"Yeah, sometimes."
"What you do?"
"I try and remember it doesn't last forever. Like the good times, I guess."
"Yeah, I guess. . . . Hey I'll pay you extra, can you turn this song up?" It's the Red Hot Chili Peppers.
"Sure," I say twisting the knob to the right until the bass is vibrating my solar plexus. "How's that?"
"That's good. Gotta like the Chili's, huh?"
"Yeah." I remember when the song came out. How cool it all was. Now hearing it on classic rock radio, I smile.
My passenger says, "Hey, can you just go around the block a little bit? I'll pay
"Sure." We're both singing when we go around the corner. "When I find my peace of mind . . ."
"Hey, is it okay if I have a shot?"
"If no cops see you, then I don't care."
"Okay, all right." He pulls a half-full fifth of Rich and Rare from deep within his coat and takes a long pull. A few minutes later we're back in the parking lot, $8.60 on the meter. He hands me $10 and tells me to keep it. "Wanted Dead or Alive" comes on the radio. "Oh, man, I love this song. I lost my uncle listenin' to this song."
"Can you hang out till this song's over?"
But I've already called Smurf, and he's sending me to the Twenty-Third Laundry, where I pick up a large African American woman with dozens of thin and perfectly twined braids falling to the middle of her back. There are four children under the age of ten skating around her like water bugs on the ice. "Montrel, quit torturin' your sister and get the rest of these kids in the car. And you better all have your seatbelts on by the time I get in there, or you will know my pain." The kids become very serious and do as they are told. I get out and help her load mesh bags containing more than a hundred pounds of freshly laundered clothes. The warm clothes steam into the cold. I take them three blocks. The woman gives me $3 for the $2.20 meter, and I put the laundry by her door.
This brings me to $22, around 15 percent of my expenses, an hour into this. I call in and Smurf puts me one South. I tell myself to remain calm, go and park by the Dollar Store, try to flag. Listen to the radio. There are two City and three North. Ten minutes. Smurf sends a couple cars from the west into the University zone. He chews out a driver for stealing a trip that he had dispatched to a different driver. Says, "Listen to your radio, seventeen. If it happens again, you can gas it up and get it in here. You won't get another trip outta me." Fifteen minutes. Sometimes I feel like a shark, like if I quit moving for too long I'll die. Eighteen minutes. Smurf sends a City car to the Westmark Hotel, sends me to 1227 Twenty-Third Avenue.
Excerpt from One Water, copyright © 2018 by Rob McCue
Buy This Book from Indiebound


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Good Eveneing,
Im looking for a bit of help with my d1845.
When i try to switch on the pc the on/off button does not seem to work untill i press it 50 plus times. I have checked the switch and everthing seems fine. The system seems to over heat a lot too. Can you recommennd any advice ?


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Welcome to our current Online Version of PVMirror published by Harvest Estudio. Please remember that our March Articles are indexed below. If you are interested in advertise with us in our Online Version, please click here. If you want to read about Puerto Vallata Local News this Week (Saturday 09 to Friday 15) please visit our Printed Version City Paper Website.
Great News!… now you can list your property for sale on our Real Estate By-Onwer. Affordable and it runs until you sell. Contact us at: firstname.lastname@example.com
Please remember that if you want to join in and share information, stories or photos of Costa Alegre, Puerto Vlalarta, Banderas Bay and/or Riviera Nayarit, Mexico, please email them to: firstname.lastname@example.com Many thanks and God bless you.
* The Painter Adventures Column ©:
Tours to Space – Departing every night at about 23:00 hours, these tours do not require much technology. Although I do have a few telecommunication gadgets, such as a satellite radio connection, plus hardware at my fingertips to tune in more than 100 stations, with a micro control to optimize reception, even from faraway AM stations, strictly speaking none of this is absolutely necessary. Read more
* The PVMirror Art Gallery Guide ©:
Waterside Art Shows at Estudio-Café in Nuevo Vallarta – Every Saturday morning from November to May, along the malecón infront of the Estudio-café in Nuevo Vallarta, local artists exhibit paintings and sculptures. You can have a splendid breakfast or lunch while you enjoy the view of boats sailing by and then stroll the waterside show. Read News
Saltillo Tile Floors, Care and Feeding – Having spent nearly half my life building in the Sonoran and Mojave deserts, one true love is Saltillo tile floors. Walk into a home, bar or restaurant with a good, rich Saltillo floor and the temperature seems to drop 10 degrees. Read more by Tom Swanson
Why you need to visit Puerto Vallarta this year! – When someone mentions the name Puerto Vallarta, most people automatically think of beautiful beaches, azure seas and blue skies. That is certainly not far from the truth. Read more by Dave Stephenson
Mexico will be a World Tourist Power: Enrique Peña Nieto – During the presentation of the National Tourism Policy, President Enrique Peña Nieto said that the actions of the Federal Government regarding tourism will focus on creating a safe environment for travelers in the country. Read more
Healthy Change – My mother often reminds me that, "the only permanent thing in life is change". Though it's not always what I want to hear, I know she's right! Life is a roller-coaster of challenge, opportunity, learning and adaptation. Unfortunately, many people struggle with the idea of change, afraid of leaving their comfort zone. Read more by Tamara Jacobi
Los Ayala Legends and Folklore – The following legends and folklore of Los Ayala were translated from the book "Playa Los Ayala: Memorias de mi Pueblo" written by J. Jesús Carranza Diaz. This little gem of a book is filled with history and charming stories about Los Ayala. Read more by Christina Stobbs
Tosia's View: Day Trip Adventure to Playa Naranjo – One of the local beaches we love spending time on is Playa Naranjo, located about 6 kilometers northwards, as the crow flies, up the coast from La Peñita. Read more by Tosia Archer
Exploring On Our Own – What do you do when it's cloudy in paradise? You go for a hike in the back country where you have never been before. Four amigos headed up the back roads behind La Peñita looking for the road to La Rosa. Read more by Jaltemba Bay Life
Los Amigos de Jaltemba Announces Fiesta 2013: 50′s-60′s Rock 'N Roll Party – Los Amigos de Jaltemba invites you to an end of the year 50′s and 60′s Rock 'N Roll Party" on March 19. Pull out those white t-shirts, rolled up blue jeans, poodle skirts, scarves and bobbie socks. Read more by Allyson Williams.
* Exploring The South Column ©:
The adventurous and savvy are rediscovering Mexico – Things are happening in Mexico. In many ways Mexico may be experiencing a very quiet and sustained revolution of sorts. It is no secret that the Mexican economy is rapidly growing and a new younger group of world-class professionals, entrepreneurs and travelers are emerging on the scene – many from Mexico. Read more
Volunteers and School Children to Create Murals In Chimo – CHIMO – During the last week of March, a group of American volunteers is traveling to Chimo, a small fishing village west of Puerto Vallarta, to lead a community mural project. The project was initiated by Robb Stasyshyn. Read more
* The PVMirror City Paper Weekly Edition:
For Local News, please visit: http://www.pvmcitypaper.com/ our Weekly PVMirror City Paper Printed Version. Or if you prefer, please click here to visit This Week (Saturday 09 to Friday 15) edition . Welcome to Puerto Vallarta! [New!]
* Vallarta Financial Mirror Column ©:
Immigration Q & A – Once we've gotten the permanent residency card we will no longer have to renew every year correct?, How do Americans or Canadians start the FM process, can they start at a Mexican Consulate?, Can I apply for my permanent residency visa even though my current FM-3 doesn't show a 4 on it? I was late renewing the FM-3 last year so my current card doesn't show that I've had an FM-3 for 4 years. Answers to these and more questions in this article. Read more by Intercam [New!]
A Plan to Move Mexico – At the start of my administration, I pledged to respect each and every one of the voices of society. I presented the Consultation Process for the National Development Plan 2013-2018 at the National Palace today so that Mexicans' good proposals will be able to guide the government. Read more
* Mexico Financial Mirror Column ©:
Foreign Citizen Applications before Mexican Customs – Who can apply for a temporary importation permit?. Who can drive a temporarily imported vehicle?. Where to apply for a Temporary Vessel Importation Permit?. How to import a vehicle permanently?. Here you will find the answers to these questions and more. Read Article by Intercam.
* Birds of Puerto Vallarta Column ©:
Russet-Crowned Motmot (Momotus Mexicanus) – Motmots are colorful, long- tailed inhabitants of forested areas with most species concentrated in Middle American countries. Six species can be found in Mexico of which one is endemic to the Pacific Slope. Motmots are generally easy to tell apart from other species and Russet-Crowned Motmot is no exception. Read more
* Gardening in Paradise Column ©:
Gardening in Paradise (Puerto Vallarta) – Just because a plant grows well in San Francisco or Montreal does not mean it is going to thrive in the tropical conditions we have here. They are just like us people, some do well in hot humid weather and some just can't stand it. Lilacs, peonies and russet potatoes love it when they are in a colder climate. Read more
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Terra Noble Spring Equinox – This March 21st at 9:30 AM, Terra Noble surrounded by an ecological reserve called "Agua Azul", invites you to celebrate with us the Spring Equinox Our traditional Anniversary Event!. Read the Program by Terra Noble [New!]
* Fishing Report ©:
March Explodes with Summer Species Fishing! – As we enter March, the peak of winter season tourism here in Puerto Vallarta we find the water temperatures remain high. As a result Yellowfin Tuna, Dorado, even Striped Marlin are available at the deep water locations. Read Report
* Viewpoint Column ©:
Mexico's economy in 2012 – Real Estate activity for the beginning of 2013 – According to the Associated Press, The Mexican economy grew 3.9 percent last year, exceeding government forecasts for Latin America's second biggest economy. The country had posted similar growth in 2011, and the government had forecast a rise of 3.5 percent for 2012. Read more
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Monday, May 5, 2014
He has a job which utilizes his Career Center training in auto body repair, though he is working on RVs. He is also learning how to tattoo and is doing quite well. I expect that he will find his nitch in tattoo art and have a nice income from it. He also has a healthy side income from collecting and selling scrap metal.
Motivation? That would be his new Dodge Charger.
4 comments:
Now that's a sweet ride!
I think it's great your son is able to follow his passion. College isn't for everyone. And there's a lot of money to be had in the tattooing business. . . I know, my two kids are covered in them (and I have a couple myself). :-)
- May 6, 2014 at 6:05 AM
- Robbie said...
Wouldn't this be a sad world if we were all alike...so nice your son is a free spirit! All that matters is our children are good and caring adults...I think your son is both...congrats to you for raising a good son!
- May 6, 2014 at 10:00 PM
- GlorV1 said...
Hi Carol. Nice to meet your son and I commend for knowing his own mind. He will do what his heart tells him is the thing to do. Very nice car. Perhaps he might consider night classes at the local junior college. Good luck and best wishes to your son. You sound like a proud mom. Take care .
- May 7, 2014 at 10:53 AM
- Timaree said...
Sounds like he is doing great! Kids out here don't seem to care so much about cars but my granddaughter who just graduated high school at 15 (yes, I have to brag a bit here), is working to get her license the day she turns 16! She can only do that if she finds work and earns the insurance money though and work for 15 year olds is rare these days.
- May 10, 2014 at 5:45 PM


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Real Estate Investing with your 401k
Real estate has long been one of the primary investment types, and it's no surprise why.
Real estate has had consistent growth over the last century- even including the housing bubble - and investing in real estate offers diversification from the volatility of the stock market and inherent protection from the threat of inflation.
But why would I invest in real estate with a retirement account when I can do it with my own money directly?
If you purchase property using personal funds, the gains are subject to federal income tax and usually state tax as well.
However, with a Solo 401k, all gains from that real estate investment are tax-deferred, making any real estate investment more powerful as the gains can be reinvested without first being reduced by taxes.
It's true that you can invest in real estate with some other retirement accounts (although most don't allow it), but those that do allow it don't offer the features and benefits of a Solo 401k.
A Solo 401k offers several great features that make investing in real estate easier and more hassle-free:
Unlike an IRA, You Don't Need a Custodian: With an IRA account you need to go through a custodian to invest in real estate. And IRA custodians charge hefty fees for this service. Typically, an IRA custodian will charge you both a fee to purchase the property as well as annual percentage fee based on the value of the property for as long as you own it.
But with a Solo 401k a custodian isn't required to purchase or hold real estate. This saves you a significant amount of money.
You Have Checkbook Control: If you purchase real estate with an IRA the custodian must issue all payments related to the property. Yes, even the bill from your gardener. And of course, they charge you for this, too. But With a Solo 401k you have checkbook control. This means you can issue payment for any services required to maintain or enhance your investment without the cost or delays of an intermediary.
Solo 401ks are exempt from UBIT/UDFI: if you purchase real estate with an IRA and use a mortgage to finance the transaction, the gains on the asset will be taxed under an obscure tax called Unrelated Debt Financed Income (UDFI). And the UDFI tax is a heavy tax at nearly 40%. So for example, if you paid 30% of the purchase price with IRA funds and used a mortgage for the other 70%, then 70% of the returns will be taxed at nearly 40%.
In stark contrast, a Solo 401k is not subject to UDIF taxes when investing in real estate using a mortgage.
- You can take advantage of non-recourse business loans: Non-recourse business loans are another big reason to invest in real estate with a Solo 401k. That's because using a non-recourse business loan to purchase investment property with your Solo 401k protects your Solo 401k assets from being touched (we'll talk more about how later).
All things considered, the Solo 401k is an ideal real estate investment vehicle in virtually every way, eliminating the hassle which typically applies to investing in real estate with a retirement account as well as affording advantages when compared to investing directly with personal funds.
How to invest in real estate with your Solo 401k
Investing in real estate with a Solo 401k is simple and straightforward, but it's important to know the proper procedure for purchasing investment property with your Solo 401k plan.
There are basically 6 steps to purchasing real estate with your Solo 401k:
1. Open your Solo 401k account
It might seem obvious to first open your Solo 401k account, but it's easy to bypass this step and assume you can begin the real estate purchase process and open the account later on down the line.
The reality is, because the purchase is technically being done by the Solo 401k and not you personally, you need the name of the Solo 401k plan for any purchase-related documents. If you don't have it, you can't complete any associated paperwork.
So, make sure to set up your account first.
2. Fund your Solo 401k bank account
Next, simply fund your new Solo 401k account. This can be done through a variety of methods, including:
- A contribution
- Rollover (via a Roth or pre-tax IRA)
- Or a transfer from another qualified plan such as a 401k
3. Decide how you're going to purchase the property
There are three ways you can go about purchasing real estate investment property with a Solo 401k, each with their own unique benefits and conditions:
- Solo 401k cash purchase (basic): Transaction using all cash, no loan.
- Tenants-in-common (TIC) purchase: Transaction also using all cash, no loan, but with a portion being personal funds so that both you personally and your Solo 401k plan own a percentage of the property (we'll talk about why this is advantageous in a minute).
Non-recourse business loan: Transaction using a non-recourse business loan to pay all or a portion of the purchase price of the property.
A Solo 401k cash purchase is simply an all-cash purchase using your Solo 401k bank account. Nothing more to it.
A tenants-in-common purchase allows you to split the purchase of real estate with both your personal funds and Solo 401k funds. In accordance with this, any investment income and expenses associated with the property with be shared based on said ownership percentage.
Why wouldn't you just deposit into your Solo 401k to do a typical cash purchase? A tenants-in-common purchase offers the great benefit of being able to invest your Solo 401k with family such as your spouse, children, or siblings.
The one caveat is that a tenants-in-common purchase cannot use debt or a mortgage to finance a property.
Lastly, a non-recourse business loan allows you to take a loan out to help with the purchase of the investment property.
The great thing about this option is your assets are protected in case of a default or bankruptcy. If this were to happen, the lender is not allowed to touch said Solo 401k funds and can only take the Solo 401k-owned property to settle the debt.
4. Make your offer (with Solo 401k-listed documents)
Now, it's time to make your offer.
Your Solo 401k is the buyer, so it's important at this point to keep in mind that any and all paperwork filled out in connection with the purchase needs to list the Solo 401k plan itself as the buyer. For example: Jane Smith's Solo 401k trust.
Listing your personal name on any Solo 401k real estate purchase-related documents is prohibited.
5. Make a deposit
This is as simple as it sounds: Because your Solo 401k plan is purchasing the property, the Solo 401k itself is required to pay the deposit.
So, make a deposit into the account (if it isn't already funded with enough from earlier) to cover the real estate purchase deposit and any other necessary funds.
6. Complete the closing process
Lastly, as trustee of your Solo 401k plan, sign and submit all purchase-related documents to the escrow agent along with a check written from the Solo 401k bank account for the purchase amount.
Also, as trustee of your Solo 401k plan, it's important to keep a copy of the below documents somewhere safe:
- Copy of the loan documents (if you purchased the property with a non-recourse business loan)
- Escrow instructions
- Purchase contract
- Settlement agreement
- Preliminary deed
A note on expenses
It's important to keep in mind that both during the process of purchasing real estate investment property as well as while maintaining it, all expenses in connection with the Solo 401k investment must be paid for using funds from the Solo 401k bank account. Paying expenses with personal funds is prohibited.
However, the great thing is, with a Solo 401k it's just as easy as if you were to pay these expenses with a personal account.
That's because, by being able to bypass custodian approval, paying expenses with your Solo 401k is as easy as writing a check. In contrast, with other retirement accounts, you need to go through the hassle of paying custodian fees and waiting for custodian approval on each and every transaction, even small monthly bills and irregular expenses like upkeep and maintenance (yes, really).
Add the power and diversity of real estate to your portfolio with a Solo 401k
With the ability to bypass custodian approval, non-recourse business loans, and tax advantages a Solo 401k is the ideal vehicle for investing in real estate.
Opening a Solo 401k plan was once cumbersome and time-consuming, but now, with Maverick, your end of the setup process has been simplified and can even be completed entirely online (we take care of the rest).
So, if you're ready to begin taking advantage of the benefits of investing in real estate with a Solo 401k, click here to set up an account.
And if you have any questions at all, contact us here and we'll be more than happy to help.


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RIGGINS, IDAHO: On March 26, 2016 Ed Benedict passed away peacefully at home in his sleep surrounded by Family. Ed was born on Oct. 31, 1937 in Neenah Wisconsin, the first of five children born to Roy and Doris (Bradley) Benedict.
Ed was known for his love of family, hunting, fishing, animals, and telling jokes. His bright blue eyes, wicked sense of humor, and infectious laugh will be missed by all who knew him.
For many years he sought the beast A hunting man who's now deceased He roamed the hills, and valleys far Now he hunts upon a star Many years before his pass He lived a life of simple task No fancy car or truck did he Two muscled legs is all he needs Many nights he spent alone Thru wind and rain snowy blown His skin was brown like leathered hide This man had nothing but his pride He had a love within his life An angel woman was his wife She guided him thru hard and thin And raised the children just like him As l sit here and l speak He was my Dad, a soul to keep Them days are gone, l miss him so A hunting man, with dog in tow This man was loved by all who knew His family, friends, and children too Rest in peace Ed
He is survived by his wife, Fern; his daughter, Nancy; his beloved granddaughter, Kristine (Tyeler); and his dog, Dennis. As well as, his sisters, Jackie (Jim) Bailey and Patsy Benedict. As well as many much-loved nieces, nephews and cousins. And special friends, Scott, Rose, Fera, and Diah Galland; Mary Galland; Bob and Kelly Fox; Wade Smith; and Scott Luna.
He was preceded in death by his two children, Cindy and Bobby Benedict; his father, Roy Benedict; his mother, Doris Benedict; and his siblings, Roy Benedict Jr. and Sophie Pamer.
There will be no formal service for Ed per his wishes. Arrangements are under the direction of the Blackmer Funeral Home of Grangeville.
Condolences can be sent to:
421 Cherry Lane
P.O. Box 1172
Riggins, ID 83549