Home Inspection Day

In Norse mythology, Loki is a god who is sometimes helpful and sometimes mischievous.  Loki is also the name of our new-found neighbors' dog, a black lab dalmatian mix.  We introduced ourselves when Nick and Noki were tending the family garden waiting for Rachael to come home.  They were very friendly, showing us around the woods to the water.  It gives us peace of mind knowing we have full-time residents as neighbors.

The day of home inspection had a different rhythm than the rest of the day-trips my wife and I had taken to look at properties this summer.  We left home leisurely and hung around afterward to walk in the water without feeling pressure to leave.  The service at Earthdog Cafe was slow and the food was good, as usual.  We would enjoy ourselves here.

Tim, the home inspector, arrived before us, but did not know the combination of the lock-box.  LeeAnne, the real estate agent, arrived in short order to save us all.  We had been forewarned that, Roy, a local handyman, the kind who prides himself on caring for all the vacation homes in the region, would arrive to welcome us to the neighborhood and to offer his services, of course.  He showed up on time too and parked himself on a chair in the living room for the duration.

A home inspection is intended to uncover issues and defects that might dissuade a potential buyer from getting in over his head.  Nothing too noteworthy was uncovered during ours.  A section of flashing was not properly protecting a sheet of sub-flooring.  Some carriage bolts were absent on the stairs and in the shed.  A set of light fixtures were not rated for exterior use and could not be made to turn on.  The controls for the radiant floor heat were elusive.

Our only significant concern was the deck which appeared to be in desperate need of sealant.  To our surprise, turned out that Roy had been contracted by the owner to reseal the deck.  It may not happen quickly, but it sounded like there was a slim chance it would get done before our move-in.  Maybe if the god Loki was looking out for us.

Riverfront Lots

The very first listing I inquired about was a three-acre lot on River Road for $9000.  Nine thousand bucks was a substantial amount of money back in the days of my youth.  After inflation, it is not much money anymore.  Inflation is a tax caused by the Federal Reserve.  But, I digress.

Discovering that listing was exciting.  I queried co-workers to see if anyone wanted to go in halves on our own private campsite.  I spoke with a friend who knows the tree business about whether it may be suitable for growing.  I still think it was a bargain.  It could nearly be bought with a credit card and paid off before summer.  That I had no idea what to do with it did not matter.  Owning farmland looked better to me than owning cash.

The land was nearly on the Potomac River too.  True, there was a large right of way between it and the river.  Oh, and did I mention, the railroad runs through it.  How interesting it would have been to have, on our imagined camping trips, trains pass by.  Maybe I could hobo a train from my hometown to the property.  Maybe the train would become a means of escape.  I would have been content sitting by the tracks in a lawn chair and watching the trains pass.

Back to reality.

I learned from the listing agent that there are problems unique to owning riverfront property.  The state has a moratorium on all new wells and septic systems within the floodplain.  Any land that did not get a well and septic last year is not likely to have one until the ban is lifted.  Landowners in a floodplain are subjected to many laws about land use, including how structures are designed and built.  I'm not saying I would never own land in a floodplain.  Doing so seems consistent with my libertarian core values.  It's just that one must take into account the implications when government is involved.

Property Hunting

The idea of buying vacation property began as a way to dump dollars.  We had already converted rainy day cash into the obvious hedges against inflation.  Taking a modest loan now while interest rates were still historically low, and while the real estate market was down, seemed like a reasonable method of building equity over the next few years.  The notion of owing interest to the banksters does not bode well with me, but if we were lucky--and we had been lucky thus far during this great recession--we would pay it all back quickly.


Owning a piece of land in another state serves several purposes.  My boys could enjoy camping there anytime, we might someday add a trailer or build a vacation home there, we could sell the property when the kids go to college, or use it for retirement.  It was similar to a tactic my own father had employed with a small lot in Ocala, Florida. In the very worst scenario, having some property in another state might offer refuge if the pending Zombie Apocalypse ever materializes in our hometown.  At least in my head.


My wife was quick to come on board with the idea.  Our family had vacationed in the area at least four times.  In fact, it is likely that our youngest child was conceived on the first trip.  My wife is more the cabin camper than the tent camper, so my dream of owning a large parcel of land soon became our dream of owning a cabin or chalet.  I would have to stick to stick to my guns and insist on one with a wood stove.  Wood stoves will offer a sustainable means of heating and cooking during the Apocalypse.


I insisted too that the property be at least larger than a postage stamp and have few restrictions, if any.  I was not about to leave my primary residence in suburbia for a vacation destination with fewer freedoms.  That would grate on my libertarian side.  And who knew when economic conditions would compel us to hunt, forage, and grow food.


So began the search.  A great deal of credit must be given to the websites Zillow, Realtor.com, Sawbuck and Trulia, with extra praise to iPhone application of the latter.  From the comfort of home--often the comfort of our bed--we browsed hundreds of listings.  Over the summer we drove to the area five times to see more than two dozen places in person.  We saw big places, small places, high ones and low ones, old and new, dry and dank.


The experience brought us closer, at least my wife and myself.  Twice the kids came along.  I'm not sure they ever understood "hunting for a house".  From their perspective we kept finding houses and then looking again.  One son had the chance to test the roll of emergency toilet paper from the survival pack in my vehicle.  He returned with us two weeks later only to discover a bee hive at home home.  The other son finally admitted that it didn't really matter what the dwelling was like so long as he could play in the river.  Thankfully their grandmothers babysat during the other trips.


My wife favored properties with amenities and a view.  We narrowed in on homes with a scenic overlook or a water feature.  Since we had made the "mistake" of once vacationing on the river, and because scenic overlooks typically mean treacherous mountain roads, we began to narrow the search to places on the river, or with deeded river access.  Structures with expansive windows, modern appliances, and easy access to town began to bubble up the list fast.  If it were up to me, we'd have been fine buying a parcel for a tent in the middle of nowhere.