“Wonder of wonders, miracle of miracles -
God took the Rover by the hand.
Turned him around and, miracle of miracles,
Led him to the promised land!”
[Taken and tweaked from “Fiddler on the Roof”]
This blog post is somewhere between the historical
recounting of how we acquired our beautiful plot of Washingtonian of land –
and, quite frankly, a fairytale. Having
looked at over a dozen lots, all within a 30-minute radius from Microsoft, I
can honestly say that no undeveloped plot of land came even close to this level
of perfect. Six acres of land; a
beautiful, gurgling creek running through the property; a building site nestled
serenely in the trees. Seriously, Bill
Gates missed out… but I guess he must have been looking in the wrong price
range…
This is the story of perseverance. Of going against the current. Of latching onto a dream like a barnacle, and
not letting go.
And (hopefully), this is but the beginning of the story, to
be continued with:
- Summer 2013 [Whoops, it ended up being December!]: In which the Rambling Rover and Roveress finalize their plans and submit their building permits.
- April 2014: In which the Rambling Rover and Roveress dig a well, and find the purest water in North America, at a mere 120ft below ground. (i.e. NOT find water with arsenic, or have to dig some 300+ ft, like some of our neighbors!)
- September 2014: In which the Rambling Rover and Roveress finish the exterior framing of their home before the rainy weather sets in... (Or learn to deal with mold).
- December 2014: In which the Rambling Rover and Roveress move in to their new home, to greet calendar year 2015 on their own land (even if it just means living in a tent).
- January - March 2015: In which the Rambling Rover (and the Roveress, ever more so) spends their evenings, nights, weekends, and vacation days putting in cabinets, helping tile, and otherwise bring the house to full interior perfection. (Hmmm, do I hear “grad school and remodeling our house in Indiana” all over again? I hope I enjoy being a weekend warrior a whole lot more this time around!)
- April 2015: In which the Rambling Roveress embarks on an ambitious gardening project way over her head. (This is actually quite likely to happen!)
- June 2015: In which the Rambling Rover comes to her rescue, takes the remainder of his vacation balance, and learns to operate heavy gardening machinery. (Or at least hires out the work – wait, never mind, we won’t have any extra money by then!)
- September 2015: In which the spring flowers and trees are finally fully (albeit belatedly) planted, and Katrina learns to scale down her dream of a massive botanical garden.
- Happily Ever After: In which the Rambling Rover, Roveress, and some number of littler Roverlings continue to enjoy their wondrous plot of land, swimming in the creek, eating organic fruits and vegetables from their garden, building a tree house, and acquiring a peacock for good measure. (Hang on, would our cats harm the peacocks? Possibly scratch that last one.)
Won’t that be fun?!
Did I mention there is a “Subscribe” / “Follow By Email” button on the
right top corner of this page?!
But back to the present story. Which begins, as all stories do, “a long time
ago”. In this case, we are set in
Bloomington, Indiana, in the fall of 2011, about a month after I’d
spectacularly failed my interview with Microsoft.
The fact that I failed the interview – and then still got
the job – is another story in perseverance, but I’ll spare the long story. The short version of it was that the campus
interviewer and I had a hard time connecting to each other, but I still felt
that Microsoft would be the right place for me, given the right team. So, after a month of feeling dejected, I
emailed a couple of people at Microsoft whose blogs I followed, and got put in
touch with the team I wanted to be on.
But our house-building story begins right in-between those two points: when I was done feeling dejected and had high
hopes for the future, but before I received any confirmation that Microsoft
would re-interview me, let alone hire me.
It was at this uncertain moment, when Katrina – being the eternally
grand planner – and me, the eternal optimist, decided it was the perfect time
to find out what sort of land we could buy in Washington.
The answer proved simple:
the expensive sort. Let me spare
you a search on Redfin/Zillow/Trulia, and describe the minimum prices you can
pay near Redmond, WA (Redmond being Microsoft’s headquarters, on the outskirts of
Seattle):
- Undeveloped plots anywhere near Redmond: 0.5 to 1.5 acres, $200-350k (and up, into the couple-of-millions – for land alone!).
- Undeveloped plots further out of Redmond: 1-3 acres, generally still in the $150-250k price range minimum (and again, easily up into the 750k). Descriptions generally focus on suburban utopia and “host BBQs in your spacious back yard”, though – for the cheaper plots, anyway – we’ve found those yards to be within seeing and hearing range of roads and tall power-lines.
- Undeveloped plots way the heck out Redmond (i.e., an hour or more away): 3-10 acres, still with the same $150-250k price tag. This time, descriptions change to “perfect for horse lovers” or “weekend getaway retreat”. All very true, but rather out of range for commuting to work to Redmond every day.
Given that our Bloomington home – land, house, and workshop – was worth just over $100k, this all seemed a bit grim, even with the far-off prospect of a Microsoft salary. But there was one alluring plot: 6 acres, with a creek running through it, at $70k. It was love at first sight.
Sadly, by the time I got the job at Microsoft in March of
2012, the land was no longer turning up on a Zillow search. We were vaguely disappointed, but not
altogether surprised – and too busy with settling into our new life in
Washington. But then, in May or June,
Katrina decided to do another land search, just to probe the waters – and the
same plot was back in the search results!
Its previous listing must have expired, but a renewed listing was back
up again.
* * *
That very weekend, we drove out to look at the property and
a handful of others. Driving east from
Redmond, and then on a small picturesque road that connects Fall City and
Duvall, we turned east onto a one-lane road.
We drove by a number of horse ranches, under an old railway trestle, and
then onto a rustic (if slightly the worse for wear) gravel road surrounded by
trees, and with copious amounts of moss hanging overhead. As a quintessence of rustic Washington
countryside, we passed by a beautiful log home right on a creek, with large
white geese plodding industriously across its yard. And then, quite suddenly, we arrived at the
site of our future property.
Actually, at the time, we had no idea whether we had arrived
at the right place at all. What we
arrived at was a split in the road, and a location that roughly corresponded to
the map on Zillow. There was no “For
Sale” sign, no tape markings of any kind, and no indication of where a building
site would be. There was, however, a
gurgling creek, so we jumped out of the car and looked around. It certainly was scenic. But wherever the 6 acres were, and if we were
at the right place at all, it was unclear where they lay, and if any of the
land was actually buildable. From where
we stood, all we could see was a creek and fairly steep topography on either
side, with hardly room enough for a home.
After pondering and scratching our head for a minute
(Katrina did the former, my dog and I did the latter), we took one last look at
the creek and got back in the car to look at other properties. But as we passed again by the beautiful log
home – and paused to let the squawking procession of geese cross the road
towards the house – it struck me that if land truly was for sale here,
surely the next-door neighbor would know.
So, getting in queue behind the geese, I too crossed the road, and
knocked on the front door.
The neighbor – presently occupied with installing cabinets
in his kitchen – came out to greet me.
He confirmed that there was indeed a plot of land nearby for sale, maybe
even bordering his property – he wasn’t quite sure. But the buildable site would be somewhere up the
hill, past and around the fork in the road and the “Private Road/No
Trespassing” sign where we had stopped short last time. I asked whether we’d be allowed to
proceed. He smiled: “That sign has been there for a long time,
but it didn’t stop the rest of those folks from buying those properties and
building their homes. All of us were
newcomers once”. So, encouraged by his
friendliness and the knowledge that a for-sale property was indeed in the area,
we turned back around and drove up the foreboding hill – foreboding both by its
inhospitable sign, and a pretty serious incline that stretched high onto the
hillside.
* * *
At the top, having successfully braved the precarious slope, the scenery felt once again like pleasant
countryside. Five or six houses rose
above us, with tall Washingtonian trees standing sentinel behind them. We drove to the house at the end of the road,
closest to where we assumed the property must be. As it happened, the owner of that house was
doing some yard work outside; seeing us stop and look around inquisitively, he
waved us down and asked if he could help.
We told him he could – and help he did.
He and his wife had looked at buying this very property a dozen years
earlier, before deciding to buy the two adjacent lots instead. Their southern lot is where they had built
their current home, keeping the northern lot undeveloped for now, with a vague
plan to build a barn and maybe a larger log house in the future. The 6-acre plot that we were interested in
lay just on the other side of their undeveloped lot.
Here is what our prospective neighbor told us, in a
nutshell:
- The good: The land sits amidst the most beautiful, quiet, and untouched area that he and his wife found after searching everywhere within a 30-minute radius of Microsoft (surpise-surpise: he – and half our neighbors – turned out to Microsofties). The only sound you can hear outside is the chirping of birds above and the gurgling of the creek below. The only light you can see at night is the porch lights or campfires outside and the Milky Way above.
- The so-so: Water can be a hit or miss. On the “hit” side, one of the further neighbors hit an aquifer, and now has a near-unlimited supply of some of the purest water in North America (shared between three houses, actually!). A closer neighbor hit a so-so water supply: silty and moderately low pressure, requiring a large storage tank outside, but not terrible. He, our neighbor, hit arsenic – and subsequently spent $20k on a water purifying system that could rival that of the International Space Station…
- The downright not peachy: Road access. The current road and road easement ends at his property line… and both he and the rest of the neighbors want to see it stay that way. It’s nothing personal – but more traffic means more road maintenance, more noise, more trucks going up and down for construction, and more two-way traffic converging on the steep part of the hill. Without the road easement from neighbors, our only viable option would be to plow our own road up on our own property, following an abandoned logging trail. This, however, would be an even steeper road than the one we drove up on: 35% grade for a horizontal distance of over 300ft long. Such a driveway would require extra permitting and geological studies, extra construction costs, extra safety precautions… and it would still border on being too steep both for construction trucks and for day-to-day living.
Having told us all this, and having chatted with us about
our plans and what it is that we’re looking for, our prospective neighbor
wished us the best of luck and told us he actually thought we’d fit right in –
if somehow we could make the road situation work. And with that we departed.
* * *
For the rest of that day, and a subsequent weekend or two,
we drove to another dozen properties.
Only one lot was attractive – also with a creek running through it, and
with a bunch of flowering blackberry bushes arching above it. However, the creek crossed unavoidably close
to the house site – and we were told by a prospective neighbor that it took him
three years to get building-permit approval, due to a “wetland” risk. The area also lacked the sense of an [albeit
small] community, like we sensed at the Griffin Creek property. And so, having done an exhaustive search, we
came to the conclusion that “our” property was indeed our one true choice, and
not just because we were enamored with the very first property we saw. Now the only question remained: what do we do about the road?
This question remained unsolved for a surprisingly long time
– for the better part of a year, actually.
We negotiated with the seller to get a Critical Areas survey done of the
land… but with inconclusive results about whether the road would be
permitted. We also called a couple of
road contractors, and got somewhat contradictory results – one contractor
saying that the road would be steep but doable, another saying that he’s done all
sorts of roads in his 25-year career, and that a hill like this is about as bad
as it gets. And from a variety of
internet searches and solicited (and unsolicited) family advice, the general
conclusion was: even if officially
permissible, the driveway would be dang steep.
We then spent hours poring over topographic maps of the
area. Could the road be adjusted to be
less steep? Not really. Or at least not
cheaply. Could we get access from some
other way, since our prospective southern neighbor said he wouldn’t want to
give easement through his properties?
Possibly. There was one other
road offshoot that climbed the hill and led to the properties of two distant
neighbors further to the north. Would it
be possible to get easement through their properties and extend the road to the
back of “our” property? We walked the distance:
no, it was too far. The stretch
would be over a half-mile long, and would cross at least four other properties
that we’d also need to get easement from.
And so we began the long and intricate process of negotiating
for a road easement, that would allow us to drive up just the way we came up
when we first saw the property.
Initially we thought it was just the one neighbor that we talked to on
the first day that we’d need to convince, even if that seemed like a difficult
task in its own right. But as we soon
learned, the road and its maintenance bills have been a sore spot for the
neighborhood for years: so much so, that
it’s been the subject of two lawsuits within the past decade! The latter
resulted in a 26-page legal agreement between the six neighbors at the top of
the hill, with a clause stating that any amendments or extensions of the
easement would require the consent of all six parties (even if not all would be
impacted by our house site). We searched
desperately for any loopholes in this document, or any contradiction with
earlier easements, or any “fairness” clauses stating that if those neighbors
were passing through our lower portion of the property, we’d be somehow
entitled to build our road at the top of theirs. In a span of a month, Katrina became an
expert in legal jargon, and all the cryptic verbiage of “the north half of the
south half of the north half of the southwest quarter of the northeast quarter
of section 34, township 25 North, Range 7 east, Willamette meridian, in King
County, Washington” (that’s our property, by the way – plug it in to your GPS,
why don’t you?). But no, if we were to
get an easement, we would need to convince all six families to agree to it –
with nothing but our charm and wit (and my newfound Microsoft salary) to help
us.
Enter Michael, Rambling Rover turned Diplomatic
Negotiator. Meeting one-by-one with each of our neighbors, Katrina and I talked to them about our plans, and discussed the concerns they had over granting easement. For some, it was concern over construction inconvenience; for others, the overall increase in traffic. But with some creativity, a bit of charm, and some good ol' American cash, all six neighbors eventually came on-board with granting us an easement.
* * *
With our preliminary negotiations complete, Katrina and I
set out to legalize the agreement.
Lawyer services, it turned out, are very expensive… but grad school, and
the accompanying research skills, had done Katrina some good. For the next three weeks, all I saw of my
wife was her head sticking up above the laptop, eyes glazed with legal
verbiage. But at the completion, we had
a 31-page “Common” legal document modeled after the previous easement
agreement, along with short individual agreements for each of the six families.
Having drafted all of the easement agreements, the seller
agreement, and the complex interaction between the two (each of the agreements
was effectively contingent on all of the other agreements getting signed), we
sent out the paperwork to our neighbors to review. In parallel, we sent it to our relatives,
with clear and precise instructions to be duly impressed by Katrina’s work. Inspired by the legal formalities, my father
wrote back:
DOCUMENT TITLE: 2013 EXPRESSION
OF ADMIRATION
GRANTEES: Michael and Katrina
Zlatkovsky
GRANTORS: Alexander Zlatkovski,
Era Zlatkovskaya
This EXPRESSION OF ADMIRATION is entered into this __ day of March
2013, by and
between Michael and Katrina Zlatkovsky, husband and wife, and the
parties specified
herein under “Recitals: B.
Grantors”.
RECITALS
A. Grantees and Purpose:
Michael and Katrina Zlatkovsky,
husband and wife, seek an admiration of
their newly acquired
lawyer skills (see “Recitals:
D. Description of skills” hereinbelow) that surpass all understanding of
Grantors (see “Recitals: B.
Grantors” hereinbelow). In order to obtain admiration, Michael and Katrina
Zlatkovsky must finally close
on their parcel of land described hereinbelow under “Recitals: C. Description
of
Property”.
* * *
The subsequent weeks were busy, but the details are largely
irrelevant from the story’s perspective.
We talked with each of the neighbors; we received their notarized
paperwork back, and notarized our own; we spent $700 on document-filing fees
(who knew that government scanners were that expensive to operate?!). But the important part, ladies and gentlemen,
is that – almost a year after we first saw it in person – we became proud
owners of our beautiful property! And
that – you just wait! – a magnificent castle-inspired home will soon stand tall
and proud on a hill above Griffin Creek.
That’s all for
now. Here’s to a successful, eventful,
and house-blog-filled 2014!
2 comments:
Thank you so much for sharing. What a journey, and although I was just one bit of information in your education..you two are always my inspiration. Thank you.
Rich the Realtor....
Let's hope this next year is a little bit easier for you than last year! Here's to a beautiful Castle Zlatkovsky!
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