As of last Thursday, February 28th, I can say I'm a property owner. I closed last week on a third of an acre nestle in the Braintree Mountain Forest Area. Although I only own a small parcel, I'm surrounded by over 1,500 acres of preserved forest (For that story: VPR: Conserving Braintree Mountain Forest). I'd been looking at property to purchase for the last year, and one of the major considerations was being able to ski and hike out my front door. This one fit the bill for sure.
You might wonder how I happened upon such an opportunity. I give the credit to my mother for finding this for me. She was scrolling deep in the hollows of Facebook Marketplace in property listings and found a listing with no pictures for a hunting camp 'as-is' in Braintree. A women from New Jersey was selling a hunting camp that was her husband's and his father's before, both now passed on. My mom sent me the listing, and I had to go check it out. It was mid-December, after work, and I took a drive to see if I could get out to the place. I couldn't believe I had never seen it before, having spent so much time in that area over the years. It's the type of place on a back road that you don't know is there unless you know it's there.
The driveway hadn't been plowed all winter, so I hiked in what seemed to be the right way. As I came up over the little knoll of the drive I was still surprised I had never known this place was out there. I found a window on the kitchen side that was open and let myself in. The previous tenants left lots of belongings and the mice had obviously made themselves comfortable in the warmers months, leaving signs on most table surfaces. Beyond the mess left behind, it was the perfect amount of space. I looked across the room to an empty stovepipe coming out of the wall. The wood stove was gone. All I could think was what a cozy space it would be with a wood stove, and what a fine place to warm my toes after a ski.
After visiting the property, I knew it was an opportunity I had to pursue. I had my mother connect me with the seller, and we made a plan to meet at the property a couple weeks later. In those weeks I started my research. I got information from the Braintree Lister, talked to folks I knew in the area that might know some history of the property, and tried not to get too attached in the process.
The time finally came to meet the owner at the property and get to know more about it as a potential buyer. I met her and her friend at the end of the un-plowed driveway. They had come up from New Jersey, and before showing it to me, she had not been there in years. We hiked up the snowy driveway and started to chat about my interest in the place and her knowledge of it. Her husband past two years ago and it wasn't something she could see herself keeping being so far away. As we talked more, I felt very comfortable around her and felt good about the prospect of buying, appreciating the sentimental value to her and her husband.
I told her about my connection to the area with recreation, as well being multiple generations on my mothers side raised in Central Vermont. She seemed to be as interested in the prospect of me buying as I was. But, there is always a 'but', she had another interested person coming from NJ in the afternoon, and was technically first on the list. She had to at least let him check the place out before she could definitely say she would sell to me, but felt as though our visit was 'the one'.
So for that afternoon, I waited for some long hours before I got a text that read "I don't think anyone would appreciate the property as much as you will. I am very happy to sell it to you!".
And from there I got to experience the ups and downs of closing on property. Many times I wondered if it was going to work out, mostly trying not to let myself get too invested in case something fell through. And now finally I can say it's mine.
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| First picture with the cabin. |
Friday, the day after closing, I cut out of work early to catch the last of the daylight shining on my parcel. My first task was to meet the neighbor. My third of an acre sits on a ten acre parcel landlocked from the road. I have a right-of-way that was established in the original deed when the parcel was separated and sold by Leon Wells in the '50s, a gentleman that owned many hundred acres of farm land around the camp. The land holding my driveway belongs to an older man that lives right up the road on the adjacent property. He was not fond of his previous neighbor. I had heard a range of things about my neighbor. Everything from "He wants to buy the cabin and burn it down" to "He's alright, just bring him a pie and tell him you're his new neighbor.".
When I drove up, he happened to be across the road from the cabin plowing the driveway of another house he owns and has for sale. I parked and got out. He continued to finish his plowing, not phased by my presence. He finally came to a stop and I approached. He opened the small door of the tractor and said nothing. I said "Hi, I'm Morgan. I just purchased the cabin there, and wanted to say hello.". He replied with a "Yep" and let his hand down to release the open door. I took the place of holding it open and kept up the conversation. I went on about the right of way, wondering if I could get the end plowed out, not by him of course, but with him being aware, and I hadn't paid attention to the drive in before the snowfall so I wondered what kind of shape the ground surface was in. Before I could get too far into keeping it friendly I was cut off as he went on about needing to talk to his attorney about my right-of-way, aired his grievances about the previous neighbor, said the spring that was dug was on his property and how it didn't work out when he tried to buy it. He even told me that his plan if he bought it was to get a can of kerosene and burn it down. I just listened and waited my turn to make sure we started off on the right foot.
I happened to notice that we were both wearing the same gloves, made in Randolph at the Green Mountain Glove Factory, an almost 100 year old business where my Great Grandmother Florence once worked. I said "Good gloves you've got, I've got the same.". That seemed to level the conversation some. He started to look around his tractor cab for his parcel map and seemed to take a breath. "Must not have one in this tractor." he said, "You'll have to come up to the house and we can take a look.". The conversation started to come to an end, and I asked "So what kind of pie do you like?". He tried not to smile through his beard as he replied "Tryin' to watch my weight.". We went on our ways and I wondered what he was thinking as he drove away, his tractor chains jingling up the hill.
My first plan of attack inside the cabin was to change the lock sets on the doors. I had no key given to me at closing, and I had no reason to being climbing through the window anymore. I happened to have a second-hand set in my collection of garage things to use for now. So I officially have a key to my cabin on my key ring. Another great milestone in property ownership.
The next day my mom and I loaded up her grandfather's old homemade grain sled into the back of my truck. We packed sap buckets, tools, food and water to go do some more preliminary work. We unloaded the contents for the day onto the old grain sled, strapped it all down and heaved it up over the plow embankment at the end of the driveway. She brought her dog Bristol, an 80 pound German Shepard built for fun. This winter I tried out Ski Joring for the first time with him and he's a sure is a natural at it. He doesn't quite know how to stop, but that's why those harnesses have a quick release. Anyways, as we started up the hill, Bristol went nuts, tugging my mom on the leash back towards me. So in the moment we decided to hook his leash to the handle of the sled, and before we knew it he was off in a flash. There was only one section, in the photo, that he had a hard time hauling up himself so I had to lend a hand. Otherwise he's pretty much ready for the Iditarod. We spent the afternoon sweeping, cleaning off surfaces and planning for the next phases. I grew up finding enjoyment in drawing floor plans and planning spaces. With the combination of attending VTC for Architectural Engineering Technology and my parent's backgrounds in Construction and Interior Design, we enjoy a good brainstorm together on a building project.
There is lots of work to look forward to in the coming months, and all of it excites me. I will continue to post as the seasons change and the projects progress. For now I'm cleaning up the remains of the previous tenant, inspecting the structure more closely, taking measurements, making plans, and skiing on the snow as I wait for it to melt. This weekend I am going to tap the few sugar maples closest to the house for some spring boiling and making a backyard evaporator out of a 55 gallon barrel. Another big mile-stone goal for this weekend is to get a wood stove back in the space. I have inspected the stovepipe and have a Vermont Castings Intrepid from my mother to drag up on the old grain wagon.
Many thanks to those involved in supporting me in this purchase, and I look forward to sharing the changes to come as the days go by.
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