Guys, I’m sad. Really sad. About a month ago, I came across a small cabin for sale in South Lake Tahoe and for one glorious month I let myself dream of us (me and the fam, not you and me) weekending in the woods. Then about a week ago, as I was writing my “Tear down Tuesday” post, the cabin went pending. And just so we’re clear, and at the risk of stating the obvious, I was not the person who’d made it go pending.
So I’m mourning the life we could have had as the proud owners of a second home. *sniff*
We’re big skiers. Last season we logged 14 days on the slopes, and most of those days were day trips. It takes us 3 hour to drive to our ski resort and about 4 to drive home (with a quick stop at In-n-Out for dinner, of course). The drive home can be pretty stressful because we’re trying to get back before the dogs poop in the house. Plus, we have to spend an hour packing and unpacking the car. Having a cabin in Tahoe would make trips so much easier on us and our poor dogs.
There are a million houses for sale in Tahoe but I can’t afford 99.9% of them. (If we’re being honest, I couldn’t really afford this one either. But let’s not get tripped up on details.)
The cabin-that-got-away was perfect because it was soooo cheap, plus we could have walked to one of the chair lifts to our ski resort. I mean, this cabin could not have been more perfect…
Weeeelllll, it could have been more perfect. As you’ll see, the cabin is pretty, basic. And by “basic” I mean, crappy.
And it’s tiny. So small in fact it may actually qualify as a “tiny house”. Which is super on trend now but coming in at 500 sq. ft with two bedrooms and one bathroom this house would have been a tight squeeze for the four of us, and since it’s not mobile like the trendy tiny homes are, we’d be stuck there. Forever.
Still, I saw a lot of potential. Imagine all the wall paneling painted white, with light airy furniture. It would be great. Like in the picture below.
The tiny kitchen would have gotten the same treatment and kicked ass. And since there’s probably one 2 feet of counter, I could have replaced it with the priciest natural stone material and still come in under $1000 for the whole kitchen re-do.
From what I can tell, the bedrooms are less “roomy” and more “closety”.
If you can believe it, there’s also a loft area that could be used as a 3rd “bedroom”. It’s above the TV in the living room, just under the old-timey snow shoes.
The bathroom…well…let’s let the picture do the talking.
For the last week, I’ve been having a silent pity party for myself. Two days ago, I got sick of myself and went in search of a reason to console myself over losing out on this one, I called the listing agent. After she said “Hello?”, I prattled on about how I’d been watching this cabin for a month, and how I’d imagined it as our cabin and was so sad that it went pending. And would she please tell me something about the house that would make me feel better over losing out on it (especially since I never really tried going after it). Heidi was very kind and indulged me. Apparently, the cabin is an old Forest Service cabin, which means that it’s on National Forest Land. This means a couple of things:
- You can’t have the road to the cabin plowed during winter.
- The nearest, plowed road is 300 ft away.
- The water is turned off in the winter. (Hence the jugs of water sitting on the kitchen counter.)
Plus, Mr. Man was pretty convinced we’d die in our sleeps at night during winter from hypothermia since the only source of heating is a small wood stove and the walls don’t look insulated.
To a rational person, I get how these could be compelling reasons against buying this cabin. All I can say is that…I’m still sad I lost our cabin. *sniff*