Amazon.com: Customer Reviews: How To Be A Dirt-Smart Buyer of Country Property

6 of 8 people found the following review helpful:

5.0 out of 5 stars Getting smart about buying rural property, March 1, 2009

Curtis Seltzer - See all my reviews
(REAL NAME)

This review is from: How To Be A Dirt-Smart Buyer of Country Property (Paperback)

March 2, 2009

BOOK REVIEW: 'Dirt-Smart' Guide to Buying Country Property is Encyclopedic in Scope, Vital to Protect Your Wallet, Delightful to Read

By David M. Kinchen
Huntingtonnews.net Book Critic

Country property consultant and Highland County, Virginia landowner Curtis Seltzer has written perhaps the most comprehensive guide to buying land in the country with his "How To Be a Dirt-Smart Buyer of Country Property" (Infinity Publishing, 757 pages, $34.95).

The book was published almost exactly two years ago, but Seltzer -- who also writes a column for www.huntingtonews.net -- says the information contained in his tome is still relevant. At the request of this reviewer, he supplied an e-mail update, exclusive to Huntington News Network:

"As a whole, country property -- land, farms, second homes, retirement spots, recreational tracts, lifestyle farms -- have not tracked the steep decline in valuations and selling prices seen in much metropolitan housing for the last 18 months. Some ridiculously over-priced rural properties have, of course, been discounted to more sensible asking prices, often by 50 percent. That, in my opinion, is a retreat into reality, not unfair or economically unhealthy misfortune linked to subprime lending or lack of credit. These properties tend to be concentrated in high-end second homes and corn farms producing for the ethanol market.

"My sense of things is that sellers who need to sell are willing to negotiate even when they have not discounted their asking prices. Sales have slowed, and increasing inventory will force truer valuations and selling prices eventually. Credit is available through locally owned banks, credit unions and the federal system of agricultural credit cooperatives.

"Country property has held its value much better than stocks during this downturn and has produced better returns for more than 25 years.

"In this market, buyers should determine what a property is worth to them, given its assets and liabilities and their plans for it and their resources. That is the price that a buyer should pay. And that price has nothing to do with appraisal value, asking price, comparables and tax-assessed values."

Seltzer's breezy, anecdote laden writing style makes this gigantic paperbound book easy to read. That said, there are many pages of valuable technical details that will slow any reader down. Before you can become "dirt-smart" you'll have to become book smart if you're looking for a place of your own in the country.

Seltzer says his book "shows you the ways to learn the value and liabilities of rural real estate-second homes, farms, undeveloped land, timberland and investment property. This book is written for buyers, not sellers. It's designed to give you the knowledge to buy at the right price and avoid post-purchase surprises. Most decisions to buy or not buy are made impulsively within 30 minutes of the buyer's first visit. Dirt-Smart shows you how to use your brain to protect your pocketbook from your heart. This book will save you thousands upfront and make you money down the road."

That paragraph gives the prospective reader an idea of Seltzer's writing style (see his farm use truck excerpt below for more of his incomparable writing). I like the idea that he distinguishes between "needs" and "wants." Nobody "needs" a place in the country, but more and more urban dwellers want a place to get away from the stresses of the city, believing that the country lifestyle is a tonic for city folks.

As a person who grew up in a southwestern Michigan subsistence farm, I can assure everyone reading this review that rural life is far from stress free. Unless they can find reliable caretakers -- and can afford to pay them -- two very difficult achievements -- the full-time rural dweller is irrevocably tied to his piece of dirt.

"Dirt-Smart" shows you how to screen properties quickly and then research your target properties thoroughly and inexpensively. "Scoping" a target property takes a little time and money, Seltzer says, but it can save you thousands of dollars and spare you the nightmare of fixing unanticipated problems.

The book shows you how to find a local lawyer and other advisers, such as a consulting forester if you're buying land with marketable timber. He discusses the ins and outs of farm equipment, including choosing the right tractor for your property. He advises to buy a good used right-sized tractor, rather than rushing out and buying the biggest new one. Bigger isn't necessarily better when it comes to tractors. His comments on farm trucks are among the funniest parts of the book. He discusses the advantages of his own farm truck, a 1980 Toyota he calls The Cheetah. Here's how Seltzer described his truck in a column posted a few weeks ago on this site:

I don't romanticize farm trucks. Mine doesn't get Christmas presents like some do. And it's not allowed up on my bed, even with clean feet.

A farm truck never washes or changes its socks. It's comfortable being a bachelor.

I consider my 1980 4WD Toyota pickup with 260,000 miles a full-time farm laborer who has to earn his keep. He is known as "The Cheetah," because a scrap of factory-yellow paint is still visible on his rusty hood, between the open portholes.

In his prime, a solid 30 mph was within his reach. Today, I don't push him much beyond the low elevens.

The Cheetah has been adapted for farm and woods work. Our local genius welder, Steve Good, fabricated a roll bar that he attached to those parts of the truck's frame that were still visible to the naked eye. To the roll bar he welded old horseshoes to form a tool rack, along with an extension over the cab that holds the spare tire as if by magic. The Cheetah's belly is held up by a steel corset welded to whatever metal happened to still be in the area,

The Cheetah prefers to move at less than a snail's pace, growling along in 4WD.

Several months ago, The Cheetah challenged a low-slung, 2008 BMW Z4 Roadster to a one-mile time trial. The Z4 has a herd of about 300 stallions stuffed into its power plant. They are fed three tons of gasified organic oats a minute through either 17 or 18 newly designed "green" carburetors. It goes from zero to 300 mph in one second.

The Roadster's owner also had a few too many gas-and-air mixer-uppers under his hood. When I ran into him outside a restaurant, he was running full Hallelujah on low-octane fuel out of pop-top cans. He said he was involved in the "gaming industry," and I assumed from his reluctance to provide details that he ran a TARP bank.

So I put $1,000 even up on The Cheetah...with me picking the course. Mr. Roadster knew he could beat a Ferrari going backward. He'd never heard of a Cheetah, but he figured he'd win without leaving third
gear.

Mr. Roadster nearly laughed himself into oxygen depletion when I coaxed the challenger out of the barn, a sprig of hay hanging field-like from his side mirror.

Suddenly, Mr. Roadster accused me of hiding a "sucker engine" under the hood. To demonstrate my integrity, I said he didn't have to show me his, but I'd show him mine.

With that, I lifted The Cheetah's hood, taking care to prevent the rusted sheet metal from rupturing under the unfamiliar strain. There, as expected, were its four humble cylinders, most of whom, I said, rarely chose to have much to do with each other. I then put my $1,000 bill on the radiator cap, hoping that its weight wouldn't blow out the engine mounts.

Mr. Roadster's slightly less lubricated second finally had a thought. "Where's the track?" "Up there," I said, pointing into the woods. I figured the Z4 was good for at least 50 yards before my logging road would spring every horse in its stable.

They left, muttering about yokels trying to "slick urban innocents out of their hard-earned taxpayer bailout money."

Farm trucks, which are often renamed FARM USE to exempt them from inspection and tags, haul stuff around the farm--firewood, materials, hay, rocks, salt blocks, dogs, manure, children, grown-up children (in both senses), chainsaws and miscellaneous personnel, like unworthy suitors for your daughter.

FARM USE is always painted on, by hand or can. Professional lettering is social climbing.

In the almost 25 years of our relationship, The Cheetah has never rolled me over, gotten stuck, stopped climbing a hill half way up or not gotten a load home. Nothing fancy in this performance, just consistent effort.

I should mention one bad habit--he casts off apparently less-than-essential parts from time to time, and once, in a snit, threw a front wheel into a ditch. I don't read too much into this unpredictable disrobing. I don't think it's psychological like exhibitionism, though I admit he has many screws loose, which probably does have something to do with it.

The Cheetah has refused to open both his doors twice with me inside. I interpreted this as a sign of affection, though Pat, the mechanic, said it was just dirt clogging the gears. A video of me wiggling through the window would have made the network news.

Every FU pickup needs a complete set of tools and junk stored at all times on the floor on the passenger's side. A proper pile should reach the dash.

Long tools tend to hide behind the seat where they carry on with cans of brake fluid.

The FU truck's dashboard is properly understood as the evolutionary ancestor of the software recycle bin. All unwanted bits of old farm jobs are stored there for instant retrieval.

The most complete dashboard I ever saw was stacked five layers high with profoundly unusable nuts and bolts that lapped like beach surf around parts -- broken, paralyzed or spent. Here and there were old plugs that had lost their spark, new parts that hadn't fit, sockets that had never been put back, sockets that had been purchased to replace the ones that had never been put back, spent shell casings and a `68 Nixon campaign button with Agnew shot out.

The final essential element in a farm truck's bed is loose stuff, which has nowhere to go and gets in the way. Spare tires, for example, or tenured professors of linguistics out for a visit.

Truck manufacturers store spare tires under the bed, secured by a chain that rusts in place no later than your first oil change. Once embedded, the spare must be excavated with an acetylene cutting torch and the Jaws of Life.

Most farm-truck owners solve this problem by throwing the spare into the bed immediately upon purchase. There, however, it is promptly borrowed by someone whose own spare has become petrified in its original position.

If your spare has not been borrowed, you must do something with it every time you need the space in your bed. So you put it in the barn and run bare butt, which brings every nail on every secondary road in a 30-mile radius upright on high alert. It is a rule of country life that you will get a flat every time you "barn your spare."

A farm truck is properly seen as a member of your team--neither family nor pet. You expect it to do what it's capable of doing, and occasionally, you ask a little more.

It's not a hot rod or trailer queen, just a fellow worker.

The neighbor who sold me my farm truck offered this advice: "Never blame The Cheetah for your own stupidity."

This leaves only my wife available who, like The Cheetah, has been known to throw a shoe at authority even before it became popular at press conferences.

* * *

"Dirt-Smart" is aimed at the first-time buyer of country property, as well as those who want to avoid costly mistakes the second and third times.

The book is available from Amazon.com at a discounted price, of course. I recommend it without reservation, based on my experience dating back to 1970 covering real estate for The Milwaukee Sentinel, the Los Angeles Times, other media outlets and www.huntingtonnews.net. Even if you not presently in the market for country property, pick up a copy and enjoy the easy flow of Seltzer's prose.

About the Author

Curtis Seltzer, 63, graduated from Pittsburgh's Peabody High School where his classmates voted him second funniest. He earned a B.A. from Oberlin College, and an M.Phil. and Ph.D. from Columbia University. He's owned land in Pennsylvania, Colorado, Florida, Tennessee, Massachusetts, West Virginia and Virginia. Since 1983, he's lived on a grazing farm in Blue Grass, Virginia, just past the border of Pendleton County, WV. He's discovered that words and cattle are equally unprofitable no matter how many pounds are produced per head. He's worked as a reporter, energy consultant, teacher, arbitrator and speechwriter for losing candidates. He's been consulting on land issues since the mid-1990s. His web site is: www.curtis-seltzer.com.

-30-

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Windows Live(tm) Contacts: Organize your contact list. Check it out.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Help other customers find the most helpful reviews

Was this review helpful to you? Yes No

Report abuse | Permalink

Comment Comment

Customer Reviews

How To Be A Dirt-Smart Buyer of Country Property

This product

Customer Reviews How To Be A Dirt-Smart Buyer of Country Property

This product

Customer Reviews

How To Be A Dirt-Smart Buyer of Country Property