The Publisher's Page
An interview with Tim Blixseth, Chief Executive Officer, The Blixseth Group.

By Edward F. Pazdur, Publisher

Tim Blixseth, a tough and hardy former logging tycoon, is successfully developing Yellowstone Club, the world’s only private golf and ski community in Big Sky, Montana.

How his resilience and ingenuity enabled him to rise from welfare to great wealth—twice—in a tumultuous and emotional career. He still grieves over the sudden death of his father and their negligent relationship.

Tim Blixseth, CEO, The Blixseth Group

Rancho Mirage, California: Tim Blixseth should be a household name as familiar to the general public as Donald Trump and Bill Gates. But, it’s not. And he prefers it that way. He’s a tough and hardy former logging tycoon from Roseburg, Oregon, with genetic resilience that brought him back from utter destitution to great wealth—twice in his career.

Blixseth must have originated from the same matrix that produced brethren like Wayne Huizenga, Robert H. Dedman Sr., David H. Murdock, Jim Anthony, and Peter John de Savary. They all started life moneyless, feared poverty, and single-handedly, fought their way to great wealth.

An Optimal Lifestyle

I met with Blixseth, now only 53, at Porcupine Creek, a 240-acre family residence in urbane Rancho Mirage, a desert town 10 miles from Palm Springs, California.

Blixseth maintains two family residences; one in Big Sky, Montana, named Yellowstone Club, a private golf and ski club located on 13,500 prime, developmental acres of Montana’s breathtaking mountains; and Porcupine Creek in the desert of Rancho Mirage, California.

It is obvious that he carefully planned two different lifestyles, in two different climates, within two of America’s spectacular and contrasting locations—the desert and snowcapped mountains—for seasonal interchanges.

HOW"S THIS FOR A FOURSOME? Tim Blixseth, former President Gerald Ford, former Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, and former Vice President Dan Quayle.

Yellowstone Club was originally planned to be a private family retreat for golfing on an exquisite 18-hole championship course designed by Tom Weiskopf; and for skiing on several thousand skiable acres with one lift. It inevitably evolved into the world’s only private golf and ski community with lodge condos, mountain chalets, ranches, and custom residences. Two of his neighbors are Ted Turner and NBC anchor, Tom Brokaw. Despite the fact that its “grand opening” date has not yet been determined, sales are soaring. For example, The Lodge, an imposing, beautiful structure, is already sold out.

Porcupine Creek in Rancho Mirage, California—on the other hand—was also originally planned to become a family retreat and remained that way. Its guarded gateway opens to a magnificent driveway, lined with palm trees and rock outcroppings, that leads you up the mountain to his private 6,724 yard golf course complete with a clubhouse and pro shop with awesome views of the desert. The nearby family residence is off limits.

It was stunning to realize this secluded Shangri-la is all his. A private sole proprietorship. An invitation to Porcupine Creek is a hot ticket in the desert communities, enjoyed by dignitaries and celebrities Blixseth prefers not to have me mention.

Some Painful Early Memories

We met, talked, lounged, and lunched in his Porcupine Creek clubhouse. Blixseth listened, evaluated, and answered every question in precise language, a trait developed after decades of hard knocks and negotiations that led to success or failure by a choice of binding words in contractual agreements.

He is proud of his heritage. His parents were immigrants from Norway and settled in Roseburg, Oregon. He painfully recalled how the family was forced to live on welfare after his father became permanently disabled and unable to work.

“My dad was a product of the depression-era,” said Blixseth. “A lot of people were dirt poor just like he was and they turned to religion. He was a minister in an offbeat religion. They didn’t believe in insurance, forbade listening to music or watching television, and maintained that the good Lord would take care of all of their needs.

“I smuggled a one-ear transistor radio into my bedroom and would listen to rock ‘n’ roll music every night. I got hooked on music and thought I would become a singer or a songwriter,” he recalled.

“My dad got something called undulant fever. It’s derived from unpasteurized dairy pro-ducts and he darn near died,” winced Blixseth. “That’s why we ended up on welfare when I was born. He just really couldn’t work.”

“How large was the family?”

“There were five of us. I was the youngest with four sisters.”

“What was it like? It must have been hard on you, especially in your childhood.”

“That period seemed normal for me,” said Blixseth. “I thought that’s the way everybody lived. But, when I was about 12, I noticed there were people with nicer houses and cars. That’s when I became determined to get out of this quagmire and began building my own little business model.”

GROWING THE YELLOWSTONE CLUB: Tim Blixseth (left) and golf course designer Tom Weiskopf are pictured in the early planning stages of the world's only private golf and ski community.

“What was your first shot at business?”

“Well, I had jobs at first,” he said smiling and reminiscing about his early days. “I worked in grocery stores and lumber mills along the way. I worked the midnight to 8 A.M. shift and went to school during the day. It was difficult, but I was making more money than my teachers.”

“The start of an entrepreneur,” I joked.

“Right,” he laughed. “When I was about 13, my brother-in-law was a member of the Sheriff’s posse. I made a bridle out of a nylon rope and gave it to him for his horse. The whole posse liked it and bought one...I made a profit!...and I thought, ‘Wow, this is a lot better than welfare!’”

Blixseth had to take classes on Saturdays because of his midnight shift at the lumber mill, and at 18, graduated high school in 1968.

“I attended one hour of college at Umpqua Community College,” said Blixseth. “I sat in that class and decided this was not the route for me. The teacher talked about philosophy. I figured I didn’t need to learn about philosophy—I needed to learn how to make a living!”

He enlisted in the National Guard for a six-year hitch, with two weeks per year of active duty. He also commuted to Hollywood in pursuit of a career as a musician, singer, or songwriter with little success.

“When I got out of high school,” explained Blixseth, “I drove my little yellow Mazda back and forth from Roseburg to Hollywood. I’d spend a week in Hollywood and return home for a week, a 1,000-mile trip every other week.

“Most of my buddies in Hollywood made a living as session men for about $250 bucks per week. I couldn’t read music so I couldn’t make a living as a session guy. I could only play by ear.

“I commuted to Hollywood, worked nights for Southern Pacific Railroad, and tried entrepreneurial ideas at the same time. Frankly, Ed, I was starving to death. I ate Spam every which way,” he laughed.

The Wally Eichler Factor

A STUNNING VIEW of the Yellowstone Club's third hole. Tom Weiskopf's 18-hole championship course is touted to become one of the most celebrated mountaintop golf courses in the world.

Recalling those stressful early days didn’t seem to bother him. There was some lumber experience during the days of his Hollywood trips, so I asked how the lumber industry got into his life.

“Well, my little hometown of Roseburg, Oregon, was billed as the lumber capital of the world,” recalled Blixseth. “Anybody that had any success in Roseburg was tied to that business.

“There was a company called Roseburg Lumber Company, headed by Kenneth W. Ford. He was God. He was the king. He was at the helm of the largest private lumber company in the world. It turned out I had to deal with that company in the very near future.

“I got into the lumber business in a roundabout way while I was in high school. My shop class teacher, Wally Eichler, made a lifelong impact on me.

“One day Wally emotionally addressed the class with strong conviction saying, ‘I don’t care if you don’t learn anything about shop. All I want you to know is you can do anything you want to do and nobody can stop you!’

“A light bulb went on. I thought ‘wow, he’s right!’ Little did he know that he lit a spark in a young man who has carried that message the rest of his life.

“I don’t know where Wally Eichler is today. If he’s still alive, I’d love to talk with him.”

His First Transaction: A Donkey Sale

Blixseth took Eichler’s counsel to heart. He decided to use his wits to make money. He felt he could become a successful entrepreneur, at 18, and nobody could stop him. Hollywood would have to wait.

He was amused saying: “I’ll never forget my first real transaction. I scoured the want ads for items on sale and saw one advertising three donkeys for $25 each.

“I thought three donkeys for $75 was cheap. So, I borrowed a pickup from my brother-in-law and drove out to see the guy. We closed a deal for $75. But, I agreed to buy the donkeys only if they could be loaded into my pickup. We pushed them as hard as we could. They would not budge.... I was determined.... They were stubborn.... We had a battle. Finally, we had to get a motor-driven winch to lift them off the ground, one at a time, and place them onto the truck. They were three very unhappy donkeys.

“I took them to my brother-in-law’s pasture to stay until I could resell them. I tripled the price to $75 each, ran an ad in the paper, and got a call the very next day. The buyer came over to see the donkeys. He loved them, and agreed to pay $225 under the condition they would load into his truck.

“I thought, ‘Oh, my God!’

“The buyer swung his truck near the donkeys. I gloomily walked behind the truck, steeled myself for a battle, lowered the truck’s tailgate, and got the surprise of my life—all three donkeys, easily and quickly, jumped right up and into the guy’s truck unassisted!”

The 3-Donkey Springboard To Wealth

Blixseth was excited about tripling his investment in less than a month. He added the $225 to his life’s savings of $775, giving him $1,000 in total assets.

“So, I started looking at want ads for timberland,” he said. “Everybody with success in Roseburg was in timberland. The closest I ever got to it was getting slivers out of my hands in the lumber mill.”

Shortly after his first transaction, he saw an ad from C. H. Berg & Associates, a realtor nicknamed “Click” Berg, advertising 360 acres in Camas Valley, Oregon, for $90,000. He phoned Click Berg and expressed his interest. They got together the next day and drove out to Camas Valley for a meeting with owner, Hayden Taylor, an old logger.

Taylor suggested they tour the property. Click and Blixseth walked through only five acres and concluded they had no idea what the 360 acres were really worth. Blixseth decided to gamble. He walked over to Taylor and said, “I’ll take it.”

Astonished, Taylor replied: “Young man, have you got 90,000 bucks?”

“No, but I’ve got $1,000,” said Blixseth. “I’ll give you the $1,000 now, and the balance in thirty days.”

Now flabbergasted, Taylor admonished him. “I’m going to teach you not to gamble with your money,” he said, “so I’ll take it off the market and sign an earnest money agreement. When you lose your thousand, you’ll learn not to gamble.”

Blixseth gave Taylor the thousand in cash and drove back with Click. En route to Roseburg, he began to get concerned about why the neighbors hadn’t bought it.

When he discovered the Roseburg Lumber Company was the major owner around it, he lost no time visiting the Roseburg Lumber corporate headquarters. “I went up to the front desk,” said Blixseth, “and addressed a very prim and proper receptionist with gray hair. She was smartly dressed in a gray suit, and I asked to see Mr. Ford.”

“What’s your business with him?” she asked.

“I’d like to sell him some land,” said Blixseth.

Mr. Ford was unavailable, but his son, Allyn Ford, fresh out of Yale and new on the job, came out to talk. Blixseth made his pitch. Allyn Ford listened intently, asked Blixseth to remain seated, and went back to check the files. Ford returned shortly and asked Blixseth how much he wanted for it.

Surprised by the sudden turn of events, Blixseth’s mind raced. He felt if he could profit by $50,000 in cash, he could retire and not work for the rest of his life. The numbers danced in his mind. Payoff a $90,000 debt, add a $50,000 profit—ergo, $140,000.

“The price,” said Blixseth, “is $140,000.”

“Alright,” said Allyn, “we’ll take it.”

“Just like that?” I stammered.

“Yes,” said Blixseth. “I later learned that Hayden Taylor did not like Allyn’s father. The Taylor property had access to millions of dollars of Roseburg Lumber timber. Ford tried to buy it, but Taylor would not sell it to him. I just got lucky. My father thought I robbed a bank.”

A Meteoric Rise To Success!

The $50,000 did not lead to retirement. It was, instead, seed money to crank up more deals. “I practically lived in the courthouse going through public records, looking at aerial photos of timberland,” said Blixseth. “I went into a partnership with a maverick lawyer, who had some seed money of his own, and we started buying, selling, and making lots of money.

“Now that I had some money, I started going back and forth to Hollywood with no success. Because I needed to be on my own, my partner and I went our separate ways.

“I didn’t learn the lesson Hayden Taylor tried to teach me about not gambling. I bought and sold, bought and sold, bought and sold,” grimaced Blixseth.

By the late ‘70s, still in his 20s, Blixseth was doing million-dollar deals and owned two lumber mills. He did it by sticking to his “gambling formula” that worked so well in his first transaction with Hayden Taylor.

“I really didn’t need capital. I went back to the basics. If I found a deal, I would give the owner $5,000 in earnest money with 60 days to close,” he said. “Then I went to a lumber company that wanted the timber on that land and they would normally give me an advance. I used the advance to buy the land and sell it for a handsome profit.”

“Just like your first $90,000 deal.”

“Right. Same formula, same pattern. At 26, I started making millions of dollars and got too cocky for my own good. I got too risky, took too many chances, and later got into federal timber sales. I thought I was bulletproof. I even bid against Mr. Ford and his Roseburg Lumber Company and other big guys.”

A Major, Devastating Heartbreak

Tim Blixseth...concerned about his putt...he unhappily bogeys the hole...next day, same hole, he putts a par.

Blixseth was struck by a profound heartbreak at the peak of hissuccess. His father died suddenly in 1975 and it devastated him.

“I was overwhelmed because we didn’t have a great relationship. My dad was a tough Norwegian from the old school who couldn’t once tell me that he loved me. And, I guess if I have any regrets, I just wish he had lived long enough to say it,” agonized Blixseth.

“I took about nine months off and moved to Lake Tahoe—to cry and grieve—I tried to write music but it didn’t help. When I got back,” said Blixseth, “I worked harder than ever. I hired my first secretary, Corrine Murphy, who is still my secretary.”

What Goes Up, Also Goes Down

To offset a young whippersnapper from competing, lumber tycoons deliberately lost money on timber sales to bury him. It caused Blixseth to load up with a lot of high priced timber.

In 1981, when Blixseth was 31, interest rates soared to 22 percent, timber value dropped by 90 percent, and bonding companies seized assets. He went to the attorney of his bonding company and asked for five years to make it right.
“I’ll never forget the guy,” recalled Blixseth. “He said: ‘You know, I can pick a loser pretty well and I don’t think there’s any way you can make it happen.’

“They seized my assets, I lost everything, and had to go bankrupt.

“I woke up one day running around the house turning off all of the lights behind the kids. I got a second notice from the power company because I couldn’t pay the power bill.

“It was very sobering to find out you’re not as smart as you think you are. All of this cockiness, and thoughts of being bulletproof, at that young age, came home to roost.”

Collect Assets And Not Liabilities

“I thought about Hayden Taylor and the $90,000. I swore I was going to exclusively collect assets and not liabilities for the rest of my life. I swore never to take gambles I couldn’t back up, or that I couldn’t afford to lose. And, I’ve stuck with that ever since,” groused Blixseth.

“In fact, after sticking to those basics, I made a million dollars on my very first transaction.”

In 1988, he partnered with businessman Peter Stott in Portland. They each put in $500,000 as seed money and launched a company known as Crown Pacific. That same year, Crown Pacific bought 257,252 acres in northern Idaho and central Oregon for $67 million.

In 1989, Crown Pacific bought 194,000 acres from Scott Paper Company for $230 million.

In 1990, Blixseth wanted to extinguish some of the debt, now up around $400 million. “There were some of the 1979 telltale signs,” said Blixseth, “and I didn’t want to go broke again. I wanted to sell off all the debt and go debt free—or sell out.”

Blixseth and Stott each had 48 percent of the company and employees had the remaining four percent. “Stott, being a very mercurial kind of business guy,” said Blixseth, “got financed by a pension fund and bought me out.”

Edra and Tim Blixseth.

Retirement At 40 Was No Fun

“So I sat around for about a year. I was 40 and all of my friends were working. It was no fun to play golf during the week. I had a private jet and I’d phone my buddies and say, ‘Hey, let’s go here, let’s go there.’ But, they couldn’t. They were working. I’m sure I must have also driven my family nuts,” sighed Blixseth.

Later that year, Blixseth predictably emerged from retirement. “In keeping with my theory to collect assets and not liabilities, the McDoughal brothers (Norm and Mel) and I bought 164,000 acres of prime land in Montana from Burlington Northern called Plum Creek Land and Timber,” said Blixseth.

“Whoa!” I interrupted. “Isn’t that against your policy of no liabilities and no gambling?”

“No,” said Blixseth, “it wasn’t a liability. I sold off part of the assets simultaneously before we closed the transaction. We took on so little debt, we could’ve written a check for it.

Edra and Tim Blixseth.

“I had 50 percent, the McDoughal brothers had 25 percent each. We took on $7.5 million in debt on 164,000 acres. We then sold off additional assets and paid it off within a year,” he explained proudly.

“So, now you have 164,000 Montana acres in your retirement,” I joked.

“Well, Ed, we actually ended up with about 130,000 acres because we sold some of them.”

Dealing: From Hayden Taylor to U.S. Congress

In 1993, the Clinton Administration’s Forest Service decided they wanted 100,000 of his acres, adjacent to Yellowstone National Park, to protect wildlife habitat, and they were willing to pay cash for it.

“I told them I didn’t think the federal government, with a big budget deficit at the time, should be spending taxpayers money to buy land when they already had plenty of land,” argued Blixseth. “I proposed a land trade instead. But it required an act of Congress because anything above 10 square miles (6,400 acres) is subject to a National Environmental Protection Agency (NEPA) review and nobody can survive an NEPA review. They agreed.

“I testified before Congressional hearings and we passed the Gallatin Preservation Act of 1993. We had two Gallatin Bills through Acts of Congress; one in ‘93 and the other in ‘98. It was the largest environmental land save in the nation’s history. The Federal Forest Service got 100,000 acres of our land; the McDoughals got some timberland, and I took almost all of the development land,” said Blixseth.

“What is the difference between timberland and development land?”

“About $1 million an acre,” replied Blixseth.

“Some land,” explained Blixseth, “is pure timberland best used to grow trees. Some of the land I got was right next to a ski area.”

“What about your development land?” I asked.

“It had residential application.”

“So is that what gave you the idea to build Yellowstone Club in Big Sky, Montana?”

“Not really. My family and I had the old Hills Brothers Estate (the coffee family) built in the ‘20s on North Lake Tahoe. We loved spending summers there. Lake Tahoe population exploded in the ‘90s and we got tired of all the crowds. Since we owned all of this land in Montana, with no debt, I suggested we build a new road into Pioneer Mountain, build one house, put in one phone, and lock the gate. We had 22 square miles to ourselves.”

“You had your privacy.”

“We had our privacy and we started the process. It wasn’t any big vision of grandeur. I didn’t want any timber logged on those 22 square miles. We did cut a ski corridor thru logging and we planned to build a golf course, both for private family use.

“During our construction period, more and more people asked if we would cut out a lot for them. That kind of demand caused me to decide, in 1996, that the world needed a private ski resort and golf community. That’s how Yellowstone Club was conceived and is now well underway. Our Warren Miller lodges, for example, are already sold out.”

PORCUPINE CREEK, the residence of Tim and Edra Blixseth, in Rancho Mirage, California, is a 240-acre complex with a stunning view of the desert which includes a 6,724-yard golf course complete with a clubhouse maintained by golf professional Dave Evans.

The Hollywood Commute Pays Off

The love of music has always been and still remains an integral part of Blixseth’s life. On September 11, 2001, Tim and his wife, Edra, were drinking coffee in their Montana home and watched, in horror, as the second plane hit the World Trade Tower.

They wanted to do more than just write a check to victims’ families. As soon as the skies were cleared for aircraft, Blixseth flew to Hollywood for a meeting with his friend of 30 years, Grammy-nominated producer Rick Jarrord. Jarrord was asked to produce a song Blixseth composed during the Gulf War, titled Pray For Peace. He also recruited Scott Miller, winner of 17 Cleo Awards and an Academy Award nomination, to create the visual. Over 200 people contributed their time and talent in making the anthem. Kodak donated 35 mm film, Raleigh Studios and Sound Asylym Studios donated their studios. Sidney Poitier did the voice over video; and a record distribution deal was reached with BMG music. An alliance was formed with the American Red Cross and all money raised went to benefit the needs of the children and families of 9-11 victims. A new record company, Friday Records, has been recently formed with its product distributed by Warner Records.

Blixseth’s strong devotion to family was recently demonstrated with a $50,000 contribution to double the Montgomery County officials’ reward fund after hearing a 13-year-old boy was shot by snipers in Maryland.

It seems to me, Mr. Blixseth, that your early days of gambling paid off big. And the best is yet to come.

To reach Tim Blixseth, write him c/o The Blixseth Group, Inc., 71534 Sahara Rd., Rancho Mirage, California 92270; phone (760) 776-6622; or fax (760) 776-6626.

You may email Edward Pazdur at: edward@executivegolfermagazine.com