I had done a fair bit of reading about getting access to see Point Conception Lighthouse in August of 2007. Being a lighthouse at the end of a private Cojo Ranch, (about 50 miles west of Santa Barbara) I was not allowed to simply drive out there and see it.

I started emailing the Southern California Coast Guard on a weekly basis for a couple months. In early October, (see my Anticipation post) the officer in charge at Long Beach called me up and after asking me why I wanted to see the lighthouse, among other questions, said it would be difficult to see it. He mentioned I’d have to call the ranch and ask for permission to be on their land, be prepared to possibly meet the Coast Guard at a moment’s notice (assuming they’d even let me come with them), and that there was no guarantee they’d go anytime soon nor remember to include me in their trips out there.

Even though he laid down some pretty intimidating, non-reassuring, and tough rules, I could sense that a part of him wanted to help me out and let me see this place.

I ultimately dug up what seemed like a proper number for Cojo Ranch and called them. I spoke to a nice lady who couldn’t help me, but redirected me to someone who she thought was more qualified to assist. I called the next number and the lady there was also helpful but didn’t have authority to facilitate. She did, however, give me the number of the VP of development who seemed to be the guy in charge. This gentleman called me about half an hour after I left him a phone message. I have never spoken to a more impatient or angry person in my life! The guy kept saying “sorry, can’t help you, I have to go now” and every time, just before hanging up on me abruptly, I’d quickly think of yet another thing to say to get him to hang on a second longer and give me some hope.

Ultimately he told me he didn’t care what I did, didn’t want to know about it, but emphasized I would not be allowed on the land by myself. Doing some earlier research and talking to the Coast Guard officer, I got the impression that even the Coast Guard is not very welcome at Cojo Ranch, but that they have jurisdiction only over the lighthouse area itself, which is at the end of the ranch. This means that they are barely allowed to drive through the property themselves to just maintain the lighthouse and leave. The land, of course, is gate-locked very well and it is impossible to get in without the keys.

I wrote to David, the Coast Guard officer, relaying exactly what the VP had said. I had very little hope at this point, as the VP had all but told me there was no way I could see the lighthouse.

Two days after my email to him, David replied that he was glad I contacted the ranch and that the next step in the process was to accompany the Coast Guard on their next site visit. He reminded me that I needed to be flexible and that this trip would probably happen in late January. He further gave me a list of rules to keep in mind when meeting them and visiting the ranch. Finally, he asked me to email him at the beginning of the new year to remind him to include me on their trip plans.

Sure enough, I emailed David on the 1st of the New Year. A couple days later he sent out the ground rules for the visit, allowed an extra guest to accompany me, and told me where to meet (rain or shine) on Wednesday, January 23 at 10am. We were to be 4 core visitors and our potential guest each.

After working a full day on Tuesday (22), but starting work at 7am, I left the office at 4pm and with Tobia, left for Lompoc at around 5pm. It was raining viciously hard the entire drive down south. I was worried the Coast Guard would stand us up (as I had read has happened before), in large part because it was expected to rain fairly hard the entire week down in the area. With all this in mind, we drove 4.5 hours south, past San Luis Obispo, cutting west to Lompoc in the hard rain and dark. It was a bit frightening to drive under those conditions.

We reached Lompoc just before 10pm and while watching TV in our hotel room, we had a power outage and were forced to go to sleep. This had all the makings of a sure failure coming the next day. The rain was much too hard, nearby places were beginning to flood, and I figured the Coast Guard didn’t owe us anything, certainly not at the cost of endangering their work efforts. On top of it all, I was beginning to doubt I had mapped out correct directions to our meeting spot.

So we went to sleep. With an extremely uneasy mind, I began pondering how I’d at least get a remote glimpse of the lighthouse if the Coast Guard didn’t show up tomorrow morning.

The other day I listened to my phone messages after work. “Dear Mr. Ziklik,” the message started, “I’m with the US Coast Guard and I’m calling regarding your repeated requests to visit Point Conception Lighthouse.” The anticipation of possibly getting to see a beautiful private lighthouse overwhelmed me with joy and I couldn’t even focus on the rest of the message.

Anticipating such exciting events gives me an enormous thrill. I sometimes wonder, though, if I enjoy the time leading up to the event more than the event itself; treasuring the feeling of excitement and nervousness of the unknown. And when the unknown materializes and becomes reality, imagination is not as relevant any longer… and of course, anticipation all gone.

I’ve been interested in this concept of anticipating versus experiencing for a long time. Fortunately I was recently lucky enough to find a great book which addresses the question of: why we spend so much time and effort planning for our futures (to make them as good as possible) and yet we always find out that our tomorrow never turns out as we had imagined.

The book is called Stumbling on Happiness (by Daniel Gilbert) and I believe it will help me further explore these intriguing ideas.