Small Adventures in Asheville Real Estate

I decided, although I’m not sure why, to come down to Port City Java this morning. It’s a short ride – about 5 miles from where I live – but with long-range mountain views. Dripoleter is closer, but the guitarist was not there last week. Although not the only reason to go to Dripolater, the music did -hyphen- off a specific and special part of the week - the time to contemplate, to think, to observe other humans and life around me.

I recall the last time I drove here, I was struck by an unblemished blue sky with a bold, brash morning sun. Today, there is no blue to be found among the thick voluminous clouds, traveling with the strength of the wind. The ground looks spotty where some of the fuller clouds have decided to relieve themselves from their wet burdens.

There is a fireplace to my right, a window to outside world on my left. The music is awful, screaming men and guitars. Fortunately it is turned down low, so I can almost ignore it. A few people are beginning to walk in and order coffee to go, but none stay. Other than the barristers, I have the place to myself.

On January 1st, I celebrated my first two years here in Asheville. I remember how much of an adventure it was. I guess my definition of adventure is not knowing what’s coming next. There was little I was certain off – where would I live, where would I work, who would be my friends, what would I learn. So many of those questions are answered now. So, I guess the period I am entering now is a time of consolidating and expanding. The first two years were buying a better car, buying a house, and buying furniture. I have added to my life what I believe will be a rich and endearing friendships. I have a routine now – I plan my social time not in hours but in months.

So now, I plan to financially plan. I’m also looking for the right real estate investment. I am also starting to finish out the second story of my house. It looks like this area is going to continue to grow. I heard from a realtor that housing grew 9% in Asheville this past year. I read in the paper that North Carolina is now the 10th most populous state, edging out New Jersey. I hope that the local governments can guide the growth with sustainable practices. Certainly Asheville seems to be on track with that. There is only one republican on board, the rest being either Green or at least Democrats. I don’t go to the public meetings, but I do read the reports about them in both the Mountain Xpress (great coverage, by the way) and the Asheville Citizen Times. The Buncombe County Commission has decided to go ahead and enact zoning laws without a referendum. I’m all for zoning and control over developers who bulldoze mountaintops and slopes to build upscale homes for wealthy retirees and 2nd homeowners. There are a few celebrities among us, most notably, Andie McDowell.

So, as the mountains get dusted with homes, we are also losing farmland at an astonishing rate each year. My own real estate ambitions remain fluid. I started with finishing out a small apartment for myself upstairs and buy land in the country – as far away as Mars Hill. Then a friend expressed interest in buy 15 acres or more, and splitting off part for a second home and keeping the rest undeveloped. Then I became aware that the .8 acres with a very small, dilapidated house was with a developer, but the deal was not closing. Mary and I made a back up offer. With its gentle south sloping surface, it offers a long-range view toward the Biltmore property. We dreamed of a gazebo and lots of veggies growing on it. A little nervous about the work and the level of my own skills, I called on Bountiful Cities Project. Darcel Eddins, one of the founders, came out and looked at the house, and wandered the land. Her dreams for the space were even more ambitious than mine. She could see the house being restored using green materials and volunteers. She could see a bedroom for an exchange student intern, a canning kitchen and a stall for the 2 goats city regulations allow. But after much stalling and aggravation, it became clear that the developer would eventually get what he wanted.

I begin to look at other land and found one 12 minutes from downtown that I feel in love with it. The heading of the small classified ad said “Gardeners Paradise.” And for the first time in my experience, the realtor wrote an actual accounting of the space. It was a farm-style home built 20 ago on 2 acres bordered on two sides by Lee’s Creek. As a bonus, the land was sitting inside a small cove with a few other homes, with fruit trees and bushes with a few years of growth on them and a greenhouse. The house was slightly roomier than my present living space. It would need some work – like a new heat pump and roof – but it was priced low enough that the repairs would not stop me.

Unfortunately, just as I was ready to make an offer, someone else beat me to it: two men, one who works for one of the local green grocers. Their dream is to grow and sell organic vegetables to the local stores and restaurants. I am still, after a couple of weeks, feeling the disappointment of missing out on this particular house and land.

So, back to the drawing board. Literally. I’ve been drawing the plans for the upstairs. I know that renovations are difficult – workers coming and going, disruptions in my plans and life, and can be expensive. But at this point, it feels like an adventure. The point before I really know what is going to happen next. The place I sometimes think I most like to be.