The good citizens of Sequim are entirely justified in mourning the demise of SARC. It encouraged fitness. It provided healthy activities for kids. It offered succor to the infirm. It was a convenient place to get together with active, like-minded people. Briefly, it was an invaluable asset.

Unfortunately, this view of SARC is preposterous. The literal definition of “preposterous” describes anything that “has the hind end in front,” something that is contrary to common sense or reason. Instead of focusing on what SARC was, perhaps we should start envisioning what the critter called SARC could become.

SARC is not only an “invaluable asset” because of what it contributed to Sequim. It also is a tangible asset with significant monetary value.

If a problem is primarily financial, isn’t it logical to seek a financial solution? Sell it! Use the proceeds to design and build a new SARC that exactly fulfills the needs of the community, that is energy efficient, and most importantly, that is manageable.

Admittedly, there isn’t much of a market for an undersubscribed, dead broke, not-for-profit recreational facility with skyrocketing energy expenditures on a lot mostly dedicated to parking. The fact that SARC appears to be unmanageable doesn’t add to its appeal.

However, let’s remember preposterousness. “Highest and best use” is a real estate term that describes the utilization of a property that produces the highest market value, regardless of its current use.

Hope in a high-rise

A multi-acre lot in the midst of Sequim’s “Avenue of Cures” with unparalleled views to the north/south/east/west offers site qualities that are ideal for a luxury, multi-story condominium development.

Of course, there would be a comfortable and generously scaled pool and exercise spa on the ground floor — available only to residents.

Strip away unnecessary structure and square footage, install heat pumps, then build a multi-story, varied floor plan, luxury condo on top of what is now SARC.

These would be very expensive residences housed within a structure built with the “greenest” energy conserving technology available. For guidance, the city and the site developer could reference Seattle’s Bullitt Foundation Center or the nearly completed Amazon Tower.

Dedicate an entire floor to parking; offer condominium offices to medical specialists; set aside a portion for senior residential care; hire a concierge. Make this a building that will throw off architectural sparks.

But who will buy these pricey condos? Target the top 1 percent of the worldwide wealthy — the same people who buy luxury occasional homes in New York, Monte Carlo, London, Paris, Portofino, Hong Kong, and yes, Seattle.

A Sequim hidey-hole would seem like a bargain to these folks.

Consider the penthouse on top of One Hyde Park in London: $227 million; the penthouse offered by 432 Park Ave., NYC: $95 million. A modest 400,000-square-foot residence in Mumbai: over $1 billion.

Dare we suggest that the Dungeness Plain has much to attract those seeking a retreat from the hurly-burly of wealthy life: a unique location and climate, access and activities on land, sea or air; anonymity; serenity; unparalleled food.

Here’s a strange twist. Most of these residences would probably only be occupied for a few months of the year.

There are high-end neighborhoods and condominium buildings in many world capitals and resorts that remain primarily dark for most of the year. (Apparently moneyed people don’t like to stay in one place very long.)

We could realize an increased tax base without significantly adding to our population. This would be like having a cake, eating that cake, selling the leftovers, baking another cake (the new SARC) then eating that cake into virtual perpetuity.

Perhaps one of Sequim’s Realtors can find the time to scratch down a few figures that test the viability of this idea.

Greg Madsen is a Sequim resident — and a former competitive swimmer and water polo enthusiast. Reach him at columnists@sequimgazette.com.