No Location San Vicente View and 3610 Eagle Pass

First a bit of housekeeping.  I know that some of us never succeeded in getting the feedburner email alert for new posts working on this blog.  Which stinks.  But for those of us who do have it working, apparently it's going away in July and won't be functioning anymore.  *sigh*  

I feel like this is a metaphor for my life.  I carefully select something because it has the features I desire, and then find out after the fact that it actually doesn't, or simply that the features don't work or are going away.  If I believed in superstition, I'd be worried about what this means for the home search we're doing.  But it's been difficult enough to find anything close to what we're looking for that I can't think it would be much worse with this added hurdle.

We looked at two properties this week, one at the generalized address: 0 San Vicente View in Ramona, the other at an actual address, 3610 Eagle Pass in Alpine.  We went to see the land alone as it's easier to schedule.  

0 San Vicente turns out to be just a jot down the street from some land we looked at months ago.  We recognized it for lacking the ominous No Trespassing sign that had been present the first time and the neighbor's home that we skillfully avoided the No Trespassing sign by driving upon last time.  Unlike last time, we actually thought this land would work out just fine for us.

I drove us down the quite steep dirt road that had at least one rock that was certainly invisible since I scraped the bottom of the car on it both coming and going.  There were also two very sizable humps in the road that might have been culverts under the thing, except they were on a section going downhill and I don't know that you so much need a culvert on a downhill grade.  Upon one of those incredibly steep hills where you can't see the road as you approach the top because you're tilted back so far, we decided to just stop and walk the rest of the way.  We were right next to the land anyway.

We stopped just over the crest

Leaving the car in the middle of the road (because who else would be coming out here?) we went back a smidge and entered the land right next this this monstrous power pole. 

These lines went along the whole dirt road, were quite ugly, and apparently can't be used for home power, though I'm unsure why.  The good news, however, is that the view to the south is lovely, and we'd be facing away from these lines!

Here you can see some of the flat area we'd plan to build on

The flat area helpfully started just a little back from the road and faces the correct direction!  It seems big enough for us to have pretty much what we want.  We might have to rethink some things, but this is the closest I've seen to what we're looking for with the possible exception of that site in Alpine right near the beginning that oddly had three wells and a lot of trash about it.

The area was covered in the usual coastal scrub, but had really useful areas of no plants through which we could wend our way.  We started going down towards what might have been a seasonal stream bed based on the grooved look in the foliage and the large trees bordering it at intervals when I heard a vehicle.  

Me, having driven, tried to hot foot it back to the car in my stiltingly middle aged manner, before someone decided to get really irritated.  When I got to the car, no one was there.  Looking across the way to the neighboring home, it seemed more likely that he'd gotten his tractor out and that's what I was hearing.  Feeling silly for not seeing it before, I moved the car into the empty space next to the monstrous power pole.

We went back down the hill, me hoping to get a view of some trickling water.  About half way down, Chris called the dog off from something he was sniffing in a lusty manner.  We surely didn't need to deal with the dog having the runs while we camped this weekend.

Always difficult to see but that bushy green tree goes down where I think the furrow might indicate a seasonal stream bed

The dog securely back amongst the safe sage and relatively safe grasses, Chris decided to figure out what he'd been so consumed by, which looked maybe like the whitish belly of a dead rodent or such.  He went to look, made a quick succession of faces from curious, to enlightened, to hesitant, to regretful on the verge of pain...

He came back and haltingly said, "Well... it's... um... you see, it's... a thing..." at which point I understood that he was trying very delicately and carefully to tell me that it was something related to an ophidiophobe's worst nightmare (do not look at that link if you have distinct creature fears).  I tried hard to keep my toes from receding up into my anus, which is what happens when you're trying desperately to get all parts of yourself away from any potential ground dwelling creature that terrifies you and succeeded enough to wait perhaps 30 whole seconds before attempting to mildly say that perhaps I didn't need to go all the way down to the bottom of the hill and might just maybe start heading back to the car.

Turns out it was a snakeskin, which Chris thought largely would be a comfort to me over a dead snake.  And in some ways he's right because the actual creature, alive or dead, wasn't right there.  Except for the sneaky fact that a skin meant that a live snake was actually still in the general vicinity and that was not acceptable.

Chris asked how it was preferable for me to proceed, meaning, should he lead or follow.  I opted for holding onto the dog so he'd go first and having Chris follow me.  It actually makes far less sense this way if a snake was actually seen (I know this from experience), but I also knew that the chances I would see a snake were low and this made me feel best in the situation of not seeing one.

We stopped on the way out to talk with the neighbor who'd gotten out his tractor.  I carefully approached him as his back was to us, not wanting to startle.  I keep forgetting that most men do not have the startle reaction of many women.  (This is not to say it doesn't exist nor that man/woman are the only options out there.)  He stopped his tractor and happily told us all about the neighborhood (it's a street really).  

He revealed to us that the next person who was going to ask for a permit to build out there would be tasked by the town to pave the whole dang road.  He said his place had burned down some time prior and they'd tried to stick him with the job and he had to fight in court to not have to do so.  He talked about a guy from Minnesota who wants to buy the land in the other direction to the land we were looking at but wasn't at this time because of the paving debacle.  He also showed us where he had his fire hydrant, which is now required by the powers that be, so we knew we'd have to have one too. ($$)

I mentioned as how the thing to really do was to get everyone together who wanted to buy and who lived on the street and see if everyone could pitch in to pave the road.  It would be a benefit to everyone after all.  Friendly neighbor dude said that he felt everyone on the street would pitch in, "except for that guy who lives over there.  He's a mean... he wouldn't give you the sweat off 'is balls!  Everyone on this street hates his guts!"  We found this amusing, but I also wondered if the fire department would accept a road that was paved excepting the property lines of this particular guy's land.

So, the land seems really great.  It's $159K, which isn't amazing but isn't horrible either, especially for 18 acres.  It has a well down by the furrow (says friendly neighbor guy) but no one knows if it works.  Lot's of research would need to be done.  Like, would Ramona require us to keep all 18 acres cleared so that fire couldn't spread?  Not that we want our land to burn, but clearing 18 acres on a hill frequently is a lot of work.  (Goats.  We'd have goats.)  And we'd need to figure out if there's protected sage scrub, and spotted butterflies, and one horned emus with eye patches... I know it sounds like I'm making fun of the environmental precautions, but I really do believe in them so much as they do actually make sense (some of the regs make less sense than others).  

We'd need to negotiate the whole paving thing.  I have no idea if you're ever allowed to pave your own public road.  We measured it with the odometer upon leaving and it's about 0.2 miles (0.32km).  That sounds really short, but I did a bit of poking around for paving prices a while ago and that number of feet might cost $50.5K-$67.5K.   Idk about you but... I don't have that much hanging around in my bank account and certainly not enough to pave some guy's street who won't help or pitch in.  Not that any of us have that kind of money necessarily, but there could be things to offer other than money?  Idk.  

And then there would be the need for the fire hydrant and likely a certain size water tank to feed it.  The hydrant alone might be $25K.  So if we started at $159K, which is nearly comfortable especially if we could get a land loan, then had to add $100K on top of it before we could even try to ask to build something, that isn't feasible as we'd have nothing left with which to build.  So... research is needed to be done in our spare spare time.

Then we went to see 3610 Eagle Pass up in Alpine.  It's a manufactured home for $450K, which feels like a lot until you start adding up the costs of having to do all that work for rural land.  The drive there went up a pretty steep hill with terrible road conditions, and it was beautiful!  It was so high, I suspect they get snow now and again.  

The home itself sits on three acres of cleared, dirt, gravel and some rocks.  It begs for landscaping, but then, you'd have to pay more.  There were maybe 8 cars there when we arrived.  This was a popular viewing...

This home already has its rural fire hydrant installed

The home itself is fugly.  At least, from the outside.  But it was fairly clear that this wasn't meant to be our forever home, so no big deal.  To enter the home you had to get up on this thin deck.

But the inside of the home is really lovely and spacious.  It probably has enough space for me and Chris.  Sure, there are details I disliked, but the home itself is good.  Although it was a bit odd that immediately as you enter was the laundry alcove...

The door is immediately to my right so... awkward

But it all let out into this beautiful living/kitchen area.  Here it is from two angles.

Yes, I hate tile floors but these were really well done and it's not like there's anything wrong with tile

Beyond the kitchen was a dining area that would actually fit our table!  I was going to turn from the previous spot and take a picture but there was this sappy art saying on the wall there that disgusted me, so I took the picture from the other side.

But then I took a picture of the sappy art saying just so you could see it.

I'm not anti-love.  I'm fortunate to have a  lot of love in my life.  It's more that I find this kind of saying (and this specific saying) as clearly false as if someone had put up a picture of a jackalope, except at least that would be amusing.

Love is many things.  And many of the many things are positive and help you feel good.  But it seems to me that the kind of falsehood represented in this art leads people who have a different experience to feel badly about themselves because it's supposed to be the way the saying says it.  And that leads to all kinds of awful things that people go through because they think their experience is wrong somehow.

Perhaps I also find it off putting because I've had a different experience.  I almost can't conceive of a person who's only experience of love is what's said above, but frankly, it does sound wonderful if it's possible.  But as it is, it simply reminds me of 1. people to whom I just can't relate on things that feel important, 2. people who use toxic positivity to try to negate my experiences, 3. gaslighting.  

But the home... it's great.  It's oddly got two master bedroom suites.  Here's the first with a really nice bathroom.  Not my style, but it's really nice.

And then there was a nursery with another sappy art piece, which... well, good for folks who need a nursery.

Can you say home office?

A bathroom off the other side of the hallway...

Then an odd little hall station in which I think maybe you're supposed to put bathroom towels or toilet paper or something.

Then the final master bedroom suite.

Accidentally found where they hid their stuff

The backside of the home had a deck with a little wood-rot (said Melissa who's smart about such things) but was very nice and looked out over the view.

We generally stood about after viewing the house and talked dogs and power lines and jobs but we knew this was a good-for-now home.  We wondered dubiously about how many offers had already been made and if they were again over the asking price.  We might be pre-approved for a loan up to $550K, but we can't really afford that.  I'd done the math from what our loan person had given us for prior offers and getting a $450K loan with 20% down would be ~$2300 a month.  Ouch.  For us, that's high.  So I didn't really feel we could offer more than the asking price.

Upon leaving we saw a big fun rock towering over the road that looked just like a smiling turtle head.  I was driving so I couldn't get a picture :(

Indeed, we went on to some camping after that and got a text from Melissa that several offers over the asking price had already been received.  So... this home won't be ours.