HOA Banned Snowmobiles On My Trail, So I Closed The Only Route To Their Ski Resort…
The HOA president told me I had 48 hours to stop using snowmobiles on my own land. And I knew right then that Susan Mitchell had finally lost whatever was left of her mind. I’m Nathan Archer and I own 200 acres of prime mountain property in northern Vermont just outside of Stow. My greatgrandfather bought this land back in 1947 for next to nothing, and it’s been in my family ever since.
The property includes a gorgeous stretch of forest, a small frozen lake, and most importantly, a private trail that cuts through the mountainside. That trail has been my family’s snowmobile route for three generations. Every winter, my dad and I would ride those machines through fresh powder, checking the property lines, enjoying the silence of the woods broken only by the roar of our engines.
But here’s the thing about my property that makes it special, or rather makes it valuable to certain people. That trail I mentioned, it happens to be the only practical vehicle access route to Pine Summit Ski Resort. The resort sits on the other side of the mountain and while they own their lodge and slopes, they don’t own the access road. I do.
Well, technically, it’s an easement agreement that my grandfather signed with the resort’s original owners back in 1965, granting them access through my land to reach their property. In exchange, my family got free lifetime ski passes and a small annual payment that adjusted for inflation now amounts to about $3,000 a year.
The resort changed hands 5 years ago. A big development company bought it and decided to build luxury condos around the base of the mountain. They called it Pine Summit Village and marketed it as an exclusive mountain retreat community. That’s when the HOA came into existence. Susan Mitchell, a 52-year-old woman from Connecticut with too much money and too much free time, bought one of the first condos and immediately positioned herself to become HOA president.
I’d met her exactly twice before the snowmobile incident. both times at town meetings about snow removal on the county roads. She showed up at my door on a Friday afternoon in January. Her blonde hair pulled back so tight it probably gave her a headache, wearing a cream colored parka that probably cost more than my truck.
Two other HOA board members stood behind her like centuries. Patricia Donavan and Margaret Hayes, both cut from the same cloth as Susan. Mr. Archer, we need to discuss your recreational vehicle usage, Susan said, not even bothering with a greeting. I’d been splitting firewood and wasn’t in the mood for whatever nonsense she was pedling. My what? Your snowmobiles.
The noise is absolutely unacceptable. Our residents purchased their homes expecting peace and tranquility, and your machines are disrupting that. I leaned the axe against the wood pile. Susan, my property is half a mile from your nearest condo. There’s no way you can even hear my snowmobiles. We absolutely can.
The sound carries through the mountain valley. It’s disruptive. It’s disturbing the wildlife. And frankly, it’s dangerous. What if you hit a skier who wandered onto your trail? My trail is clearly marked as private property and I’ve been riding snowmobiles on this land for 30 years. My family’s been doing it for 70. You’ve been here 5 minutes.
Patricia stepped forward. The HOA has rules about noise pollution and recreational vehicle usage. Your hoa, I said slowly, has no jurisdiction over my property. I don’t live in your little community. I own private land that predates your development by decades.” Susan’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Mr.
Archer, we’re trying to be reasonable here. We’re simply asking you to cease using snowmobiles on the trail that runs adjacent to our property. Surely that’s not too much to ask in the interest of being a good neighbor. The trail doesn’t run adjacent to your property. It runs through mine. The easement road, Margaret chimed in, is used by all of our residents to access the ski resort.
We have a vested interest in the safety and tranquility of that route. Now I was starting to understand. The main road through my property, the one covered by the easement, ran parallel to my snowmobile trail for about a/4 mile. They were probably about 50 ft apart at the closest point. The HOA members driving their Range Rovers and Teslas to the ski resort could see me riding my snowmobile through the trees.
“Let me get this straight,” I said. You’re upset because you can see me enjoying my own property while you’re driving through it. We’re upset, Susan said is because you’re creating a nuisance. The HOA has voted and we’re formally requesting that you see snowmobile operation on your property, specifically on the trail visible from the easement road.
And if I don’t, then we’ll take legal action. will sue for nuisance, for breach of peaceful enjoyment, for any violation we can document. She pulled out a folded document from her parka. This is your official notice. You have 48 hours tocomply. I didn’t take the paper. Get off my property. Mr. Archer, you’re being unreasonable.
I’m being unreasonable. You come to my home, tell me I can’t use my own land the way my families used it for generations. Threaten me with lawsuits and I’m the unreasonable one. I picked up the axe again, not threateningly, just to continue my work. Leave now. They left, but Susan made sure to turn back and say, “You’ll be hearing from our attorney.
” I watched their Mercedes SUV disappear down my driveway and went inside to call my own lawyer. Gerald Porter had handled my family’s legal affairs since I was a kid. He’d helped with the land taxes, the easement agreement updates, and my father’s estate when he passed 3 years ago. Nathan, slow down, Gerald said after I’d rapid fired the whole story at him.
They can’t tell you what to do on your property. The easement agreement gives them access rights, nothing more. It doesn’t grant them any control over how you use the rest of your land. That’s what I thought. So, they’re bluffing probably. But Susan Mitchell’s HOA has money and they can make your life difficult even if they can’t win. Nuisance lawsuits cost money to defend, even when they’re frivolous.
So, what do I do? Keep riding your snowmobile. Document every ride with timestamps and photos. If they sue, we’ll fight it. But Nathan, there’s something else you should consider. What? That easement agreement? It’s pretty old. When’s the last time you looked at the actual terms? I hadn’t looked at it in years.
My dad had kept a copy in his filing cabinet, and I’d inherited that cabinet along with everything else. Why? because easements can be terminated under certain conditions. If they’re going to come after you, you might want to review what rights you have regarding that access road. After hanging up, I dug through the filing cabinet until I found the original easement agreement from 1965.
It was typed on an actual typewriter slightly yellowed with age. I read through the legal language carefully. The agreement granted perpetual access rights to the resort owners and their guests for the purpose of reaching the ski resort property. In exchange, my family received the ski passes and annual payment, but there were conditions.
The access was specifically for peaceful transit to and from the resort property and required the resort owners to maintain the road in good condition, suitable for vehicle passage. More importantly, there was a clause about termination. Either party could terminate the agreement with 180 days written notice if the other party violated the terms.
Violations included failure to maintain the road, use of the access for purposes other than resort access, or legal action taken by either party that interfered with the peaceful use and enjoyment of the respective properties. I read that clause three times. Legal action interfering with peaceful use and enjoyment.
Susan Mitchell’s HOA was about to sue me for using my own property. That seemed like it qualified. I called Gerald back. I found something. After I read him the termination clause, he was quiet for a long moment. Nathan, are you sure you want to go down this road? If you terminate the easement, you cut off the only vehicle access to that resort.
They’re suing me for riding a snowmobile on my own land. They’re threatening to sue. They haven’t filed yet, but they will. Susan Mitchell doesn’t make empty threats. She’s the type who needs to win. If you do this, you’ll make an enemy of the entire HOA, the resort owners, probably half the town. The resort employs a lot of people.
Gerald, my family’s been good neighbors for 70 years. We granted that easement when we didn’t have to. We’ve maintained good relationships with everyone. And this HOA comes in and immediately tries to bully me off my own property. I could feel my anger rising. I’m not doing anything wrong. I’m not harming anyone, and I’m not going to let them push me around.
All right, let me review the agreement more carefully. Don’t do anything yet. Wait to see if they actually file a lawsuit. I didn’t have to wait long. The following Tuesday, I was served with papers. The Pine Summit Village HOA was suing me for private nuisance, claiming my snowmobile use created excessive noise, disturbed wildlife, created safety hazards, and diminished their property values.
They were seeking an injunction to prohibit snowmobile use on my property within half a mile of the easement road, plus monetary damages for the harm already caused. The lawsuit was 23 pages of legal nonsense. They’d included witness statements from a dozen HOA residents, all claiming they’d been disturbed by my snowmobile noise.
Some claimed they’d seen me riding recklessly near the road. One statement claimed I’d nearly caused an accident by startling a driver, though no accident report existed, and I’d never ridden that close to the road. They were lying. Most of it was exaggeration or complete fabrication.But there it was in official legal documents filed with the county court.
I called Gerald. They filed I saw I got courtesy notice from their attorney this morning. Nathan, this is a nuisance suit in more ways than one. It’s not going to succeed on the merits. How much is it going to cost me to fight? He sighed. Probably 15,000, maybe more if it goes to trial. I can give you a discount, but I can’t work for free.
$15,000 to defend my right to use my own property. money I didn’t really have. I made a decent living as a freelance software developer, but I wasn’t rich. Most of my money went to property taxes, maintenance, and repairs on a 70-year-old house. Or I said, I could invoke the termination clause. Nathan, think about this carefully.
This is going to get ugly. It’s already ugly. They made it ugly. I’m just responding. All right, I’ll draft the termination notice. You’re sure? I’m sure. It took Gerald 3 days to prepare the termination notice. It was a formal legal document that cited the lawsuit as a violation of the easement agreement’s terms, specifically the provision about legal action interfering with peaceful use and enjoyment of the properties.
The notice stated that in accordance with the agreement’s terms, the easement would be terminated 180 days from receipt of the notice. I hand delivered copies to the resort’s corporate offices, the HOA’s management company, and Susan Mitchell’s condo. I also sent certified copies via mail for legal proof of delivery.
The reaction was immediate and explosive. Susan called my phone 12 times that afternoon. I didn’t answer. She left increasingly frantic voicemails, starting with attempts at negotiation and ending with barely coherent threats. The resort’s general manager, a man named Todd Brennan, showed up at my door that evening. “Mr.
Archer, surely we can discuss this,” he said. Todd was younger than me, maybe 35, wearing an expensive suit and a desperate expression. There’s nothing to discuss. Your HOA sued me. The easement agreement is clear about the consequences. The resort didn’t sue you. The HOA did. We’re separate entities.
The HOA represents your condo owners, who are your guests and customers. The agreement covers resort owners and their guests. Your lawyers can sort out the semantics. Mr. Archer, Nathan, please. We employ 70 people. We’ve got seasoned passholders, guests with reservations, contracts with ski schools. You’re talking about destroying a business.
I’m talking about protecting my property rights. Maybe you should have thought about the consequences before the HOA decided to sue me. I didn’t even know about the lawsuit until after they filed it. Susan Mitchell doesn’t exactly consult with resort management on HOA decisions. I almost felt sorry for Todd. He was caught in the middle of something that wasn’t his fault.
Then maybe you should talk to Susan about dropping the lawsuit. I tried. She’s refusing. She says the HOA won’t be bullied by threats. Then I guess we’re at an impass. There has to be another solution. What if we paid you? We could increase the easement payments significantly. This isn’t about money. Everyone says that, but it’s always about money eventually.
That pissed me off. Get off my property. You’ve got 177 days to figure out alternative access. Todd left, but the visitors didn’t stop. Over the next week, I received visits from three different HOA board members, two resort executives, a commercial real estate developer, and the mayor of Stowe. Everyone wanted me to reconsider.
Everyone offered different solutions, more money, different easement terms, even offers to buy my property outright for way more than it was worth. I said no to all of it. The principle mattered more than the money. The Hoa, meanwhile, proceeded with their lawsuit despite everything. Susan Mitchell gave an interview to the local newspaper, painting me as a selfish property owner who was holding an entire community hostage over his right to make noise.
She conveniently left out the part where her lawsuit started the whole thing. Social media picked up the story. I got death threats from strangers who thought I was destroying local jobs out of spite. I also got supportive messages from property rights advocates who saw this as an important case about HOA overreach. The local news ran the story and suddenly I was getting calls from reporters in Burlington, Boston, even a producer from a national morning show.
I declined all interview requests. I wasn’t interested in making this a media circus. What I was interested in was the research I’d been doing on alternative access to the resort. From what I could tell, there wasn’t any. The resort sat on the mountain side in a position that was only practically accessible via my land.
Technically, there was an old logging road on the opposite side of the mountain that connected to state land, but it hadn’t been maintained in decades and would require cutting through about2 mi of forest to make it suitable for vehicles. The cost would be enormous, and they’d need state permits to build a road through protected forest land.
That could take years. The only other option was a helicopter, which was absurd for regular resort operations. As the weeks passed and the legal deadlines approached, the pressure intensified. The resort filed an emergency motion in court, arguing that I couldn’t terminate the easement because doing so would cause irreparable harm to their business.
My lawyer filed a response arguing that the termination clause was clear and legal and that the resort’s business difficulties weren’t my problem. The judge, a woman named Patricia Ramsay, scheduled a hearing for early March. That would be cutting it close to the termination date, which fell on March 15th.
In the meantime, the HOA’s nuisance lawsuit continued its slow march through the legal system. Discovery demands were exchanged. They wanted to depose me, examine my snowmobiles, inspect my property. Gerald fought most of it, but we had to comply with some requests. The deposition was particularly unpleasant. The HOA’s attorney, a shark named Richard Voss, spent 4 hours asking me increasingly absurd questions about my snowmobile usage.
How many decb does your snowmobile produce at full throttle? I have no idea. You’ve never measured it. Why would I measure it? It’s a snowmobile. It makes noise. I’m on my own property. So, you admit you’re making noise. I admit I’m riding a snowmobile. That’s not a crime. You ride your snowmobile to harass the HOA residents.
No, you derive pleasure from knowing your noise disturbs them. I derive pleasure from riding my snowmobile through beautiful mountain property that’s been in my family for three generations. What the HOA thinks about it is irrelevant to me. So you don’t care that you’re disturbing people. I don’t care that people who moved in 5 years ago and immediately tried to tell me what to do on my own land are upset.
No, it went on like that. Voss was trying to paint me as some kind of vindictive neighbor who got joy from annoying people. The truth was simpler. I just wanted to be left alone. The hearing on the easement termination came on March 8th. The courtroom was packed. The resort had hired a big law firm from Burlington and they brought three attorneys.
The HOA sent two of their attorneys, including Vas. Various interested parties filled the gallery. Resort employees worried about their jobs. HOA residents, local business owners, reporters. Gerald and I sat at our table, just the two of us, against an army. The resort’s lead attorney, a man named Christopher Wells, argued first.
He was polished and persuasive, painting a picture of devastating economic consequences if I was allowed to terminate the easement. He talked about the 70 employees who would lose jobs, the hundreds of thousands of dollars in lost revenue, the families who had booked ski vacations, the impact on the local economy. Your honor, he concluded, this isn’t about a property dispute.
This is about one man using a legal technicality to hold an entire business and community hostage because he’s upset about a civil lawsuit. The harm that would result from allowing this termination is disproportionate to any harm Mr. Archer has suffered. We ask the court to find that the termination is invalid or at minimum to impose a reasonable delay to allow the resort to develop alternative access.
Judge Ramsay turned to Gerald. Mr. Porter, your response. Gerald stood. He wasn’t flashy like Wells, but he was thorough. Your honor, the easement agreement is a contract. It has clear terms negotiated and agreed upon by both parties. One of those terms allows for termination under specific conditions.
Those conditions have been met. The plaintiff is attempting to rewrite the contract after the fact because they don’t like the consequences of their own actions. The lawsuit mentioned in the termination notice was filed by the HOA, not the resort, Wells interjected. The HOA represents condominium owners who are guests of the resort under the terms of the easement agreement.
The agreement doesn’t distinguish between the resort and its guests when it comes to legal obligations. Furthermore, the resort has failed to maintain the access road as required by the agreement. That was a new argument. Wells looked surprised. What do you mean failed to maintain? Gerald pulled out a stack of photographs.
Over the past 5 years, since the resort changed ownership, the road has deteriorated significantly. Mr. Archer has documented numerous potholes, washouts, and areas where winter maintenance has been inadequate. The agreement specifically requires the resort to maintain the road in good condition. They haven’t. The judge examined the photos. Mr.
Wells, do you have a response? Wells conferred with his team. Your honor, normal wear and tear isn’t a maintenance failure. The road is passable. The agreement says good conditionssuitable for vehicle passage, not merely passable, Gerald countered. Mr. Archer has been patient about the declining road conditions, but combined with the HOA’s lawsuit, it’s clear the resort and its associated entities are not upholding their end of the agreement. Judge Ramsay looked tired.
Gentlemen, here’s my problem. Mr. Porter, you’re technically correct about the contract terms. The termination clause is clear and appears to have been properly invoked. However, Mr. Wells is also correct that the consequences are severe and disproportionate. With respect, your honor, the consequences being severe isn’t a reason to invalidate a valid contract term.
Gerald said the parties negotiated this agreement. They could have negotiated different termination provisions. They didn’t. The agreement was signed in 1965. Wells argued, “The parties couldn’t have anticipated today’s circumstances. The parties anticipated that disagreements might occur and included a termination clause to address them,” Gerald shot back.
“That’s exactly what termination clauses are for.” “The judge spent several minutes reading through the easement agreement. The courtroom was silent except for the rustling of papers and the occasional whisper from the gallery. Finally, she looked up. Here’s my ruling. The termination notice is valid under the terms of the agreement.
However, I’m going to extend the termination period from 180 days to 365 days from the date of the original notice. This gives the resort time to develop alternative access or to negotiate a new agreement with Mr. Archer. Your honor, Gerald protested, the agreement specifies 180 days, and the court has discretion to fashion equitable remedies when strict adherence to contract terms would create undue hardship. The resort has one year.
If they can’t arrange alternative access or a new agreement in that time, the easement terminates. She banged her gavvel. We’re adjourned. It was a split decision. The resort had one additional time, but I’d won the main point. The termination was valid. They would lose their access eventually unless something changed.
Outside the courthouse, reporters swarmed us. Gerald made a brief statement about respecting the court’s decision. Wells made a statement about the resort’s commitment to finding a solution. Susan Mitchell, who’d attended the hearing, approached me directly. I hope you’re proud of yourself, she said. You’re going to put dozens of people out of work.
I’m going to protect my property rights. You’re the one who started this. All we asked was for you to stop making noise. Such a simple thing. You asked me to stop using my own property in a way my family’s used it for 70 years. That’s not simple. That’s outrageous. We could have worked something out. You sued me before trying to work anything out because you were being unreasonable.
I walked away. There was no point arguing with her. Susan Mitchell lived in a world where she was always right and everyone else was always wrong. Nothing I said would change that. The extended timeline meant I had about 10 more months before the easement termination took effect. The resort immediately began exploring options for alternative access.
I heard through the grapevine that they had hired engineers to survey the old logging road route and had begun the permit application process with the state. The permit process was going to be the problem. Vermont has strict environmental regulations, especially for construction in forested areas. The route would require cutting through mature forest, potentially disturbing wildlife habitats, and crossing several streams.
The state environmental agency would need to conduct impact studies. The public would have opportunities to comment. Environmental groups would probably oppose it. This could take years, not months. Meanwhile, the HOA’s nuisance lawsuit trudged forward. We were scheduled for trial in June. Gerald was confident we’d win, but it was still costing me money and stress.
Then, in April, something interesting happened. The resort’s corporate parent company announced it was suing the Pine Summit Village HOA for torchious interference with business relations. They argued that the HOA’s lawsuit against me had directly caused the easement termination crisis and the resulting business losses.
Essentially, the resort was blaming the HOA for this entire mess. I couldn’t help but feel some satisfaction about that. Finally, someone else was calling out Susan Mitchell and her board for their ridiculous overreach. The HOA’s response was to double down. They filed a counter suit against the resort for failing to control access to the easement road and for allowing the road conditions to deteriorate, which they claimed had decreased their property values.
Now, everyone was suing everyone. It was a legal circus. My phone rang one evening in late April. It was Todd Brennan, the resort manager. Nathan, I know you probably don’t wantto talk to me, but I have a proposition. I’m listening. What if we could make this go away? All of it. The HOA lawsuit, the easement termination, everything.
How? The resort’s corporate office is forcing the HOA to drop their lawsuit against you. It’s a condition of settling our lawsuit against them. If they drop their case, would you be willing to withdraw the easement termination notice? I thought about it. What about the road maintenance? We’ll fix the road, fully repave it, bring it up to modern standards.
We should have done that years ago anyway. And what guarantees do I have that the HOA won’t just sue me again next year? We’re putting new rules in the HOA governing documents. They won’t be able to take legal action related to your property without resort approval. Basically, we’re tying their hands. That sounds too good to be true.
It’s not altruism. We need that easement. The alternative access route is going to take at least 3 years and cost about $8 million, maybe more. It’s cheaper for us to fix our relationship with you and make sure the HOA never bothers you again. Let me think about it. There’s a deadline. The judge in our case with the HOA wants to see progress towards settlement by May 1st. That’s 3 days from now.
I called Gerald after hanging up with Todd. What do you think? I think they’re desperate. The resort’s entire business model depends on that access road. But Nathan, this could be a good deal for you. You get the lawsuit dropped, the road fixed, and protection against future HOA action. Susan Mitchell is going to hate this.
Susan Mitchell already hates you. At least this way. She can’t do anything about it. I spent a day thinking it over. Part of me wanted to stick to my guns, let the easement terminate, and watch the resort deal with the consequences of the HOA’s actions, but the more practical part of me recognized that this achieved what I actually wanted, to be left alone to enjoy my property.
I called Todd back. All right, but I want the agreement in writing and I want it ironclad. The road gets fully repaved within 6 months. The HOA drops their lawsuit with prejudice and agrees never to file any legal action related to my property or its usage, and I want the easement payment tripled. Tripled? Nathan, come on.
You’re about to spend $8 million on an alternative road. I’m saving you that money and three years of headaches. Triple the payment or no deal. Todd was silent for a moment. Let me talk to corporate. I’ll call you back. He called back 2 hours later. Deal. We’ll draw up the paperwork. It took 3 weeks to finalize all the legal documents.
There were contracts, amendments to the easement agreement, settlement agreements for the various lawsuits, and new HOA governing documents. Gerald reviewed everything carefully before I signed. The final settlement meeting was held in a conference room at the resort. Present were myself and Gerald, Todd and two resort executives, Susan Mitchell and two HOA board members, and both sides attorneys. The atmosphere was tense.
Susan hadn’t said a word to me when we arrived. She sat at the opposite end of the table, her expression suggesting she’d been forced to eat something unpleasant. I suppose in a way she had. The resort’s attorney explained the terms of the settlement to make sure everyone understood. The HOA would dismiss their lawsuit against me with prejudice, meaning they couldn’t refile it.
The HOA’s governing documents would be amended to prohibit legal action related to my property without unanimous board approval and resort consent. The resort would repave the access road within 6 months. The easement agreement would continue with the increased payment of $9,000 annually. Any questions? The attorney asked.
Susan raised her hand like a school child. I want it noted that the HOA board is signing this under Dores. The resort threatened us with continued litigation if we didn’t agree. Noted, the attorney said dryly, though I’ll point out that you were already in litigation that you started. Anything else? Silence.
Then let’s sign. We all signed our respective documents. I signed my name on the amended easement agreement, feeling a strange mix of relief and anticlimax. Months of conflict, thousands in legal fees, countless hours of stress, all ending with signatures on paper. As we were gathering our materials to leave, Susan approached me.
You think you’ve won, but you haven’t. You’ve shown everyone what kind of person you are. And what kind is that? selfish, vindictive, willing to hurt innocent people to get your way.” I looked at her for a long moment. “Susan, you sued me for riding a snowmobile on my own property. You threatened to take away something my family has done for generations because you didn’t like the noise.
You lied in your legal filings, made up stories about reckless behavior and safety hazards that never happened. And when I defended myself using legal means available to me, you acted like Iwas the villain. I picked up my briefcase. I’m not the one who needs to look in the mirror here. I walked out before she could respond.
Outside, Todd caught up with me. Nathan, I want you to know I appreciate you being willing to settle this. I know it wasn’t easy. It was necessary. I don’t actually want to see people lose their jobs. I also want to apologize. The resort should have dealt with the HOA situation earlier. We knew Susan was difficult, but we didn’t think she’d do something this extreme.
You might want to consider who you allow to have power in that organization. We’re working on it. There’s already a movement among the other HOA residents to remove her as president. Turns out a lot of them weren’t happy about the lawsuit or the attention it brought. That was good to hear. Well, good luck with that. Listen, your new ski passes are waiting at the lodge desk whenever you want to pick them up, and if you ever need anything, call me directly.
He handed me his business card. I thanked him and left. The next few months were refreshingly quiet. The HOA lawsuit was formally dismissed in early June. The resort started road repairs in July, and true to their word, they did a complete job. They didn’t just patch potholes. They fully repaved the entire 2m stretch through my property, added proper drainage, and even installed new guard rails in a few spots that probably needed them.
I rode my snowmobile whenever I wanted, which honestly wasn’t even that often, maybe once or twice a week. The whole conflict had been about principle, not frequency of use. In August, the HOA held elections for their board positions. Susan Mitchell was voted out as president and didn’t even retain a board seat. I heard through local gossip that she’d become so unpopular in the community that people were actively avoiding her at social events.
The new HOA president was a man named Robert Chen, a retired engineer who seemed to have a much more reasonable temperament. Robert actually stopped by my property in September to introduce himself. Mr. Archer, I wanted to apologize on behalf of the HOA for everything that happened. The previous board acted improperly and it won’t happen again.
I appreciate that. I also wanted you to know that we’ve implemented new procedures for any issues that arise with neighboring properties. Before taking any legal action, we’re required to attempt direct negotiation and mediation. The lawsuit approach was hostile and counterproductive. That sounds much more sensible.
If you ever have any issues with HOA residents or the resort, please contact me directly. I’d rather solve problems through communication than litigation. He gave me his contact information. We actually had a pleasant conversation. Robert was interested in the history of my property and I told him about my greatgrandfather buying the land and building the original cabin.
He shared stories about his career and why he’d chosen to retire in Vermont. It was the kind of neighborly interaction that should have happened from the beginning. As fall turned to winter and the first snows came, I took my snowmobile out on the trail for the first time since the settlement, the machine roared to life, and I guided it through fresh powder along the route my father and grandfather had taken before me.
The trees were heavy with snow, the air crisp and clean, the mountain beautiful and silent except for the sound of my engine. I rode past the section where the trail ran parallel to the access road. A few cars were heading up to the resort, probably early season skiers eager for the fresh snow. I wondered if any of them knew the story of what had happened or if they just saw a guy on a snowmobile and thought nothing of it.
It didn’t matter either way. This was my land, my trail, my right, and I’d fought to keep it. When I got back to the cabin, I found a letter in my mailbox. It was from the Vermont Property Rights Association thanking me for standing up against HOA overreach and inviting me to speak at their annual conference. Apparently, my case had become something of a cause sale in property rights circles. I declined the invitation.
I wasn’t interested in being a poster child for any movement. I just wanted to be left alone. But the letter made me think about the broader implications of what had happened. HOAs have incredible power, often with very little oversight. They can make rules, assess fees, and file lawsuits, all while operating as private organizations that don’t have to answer to voters or follow the same transparency requirements as government entities.
For people who live within HOA controlled communities, this means their property rights are significantly restricted in ways they might not fully understand when they buy their homes. Susan Mitchell had genuinely believed she had the right to tell me what to do on my property, even though I wasn’t part of her HOA.
She’d been so accustomed to exercising control withinher community that she couldn’t comprehend the limits of that control. It was a kind of bureaucratic overreach born from a combination of petty tyranny and genuine obliviousness to other people’s rights. The whole situation could have been avoided with a simple conversation.
If Susan had come to my door, introduced herself as a neighbor, and politely asked if there was anything I could do about the snowmobile noise, we might have worked something out. Maybe I would have agreed to ride at certain times of day, or to avoid the section of trail closest to the road during peak traffic hours, or something else that represented a reasonable compromise.
Instead, she’d come with demands and threats, and I’d responded by exercising the full extent of my legal rights. We’d both escalated a minor issue into a major conflict, though I firmly believed she’d thrown the first punch. That winter was one of the best in recent memory. Vermont got heavy snowfall, and the skiing was excellent.
The resort had a successful season, which I was genuinely happy about. I used my ski passes a few times, and the staff at the lodge was always friendly. If they knew who I was or about the conflict, they never mentioned it. I saw Susan Mitchell once at a grocery store in Stow in January. We made eye contact across the produce section.
She quickly turned away and left her shopping cart to exit through another aisle. I found it sad in a way. This woman had moved to Vermont to enjoy mountain living, but she’d made herself so miserable through her own actions that she couldn’t even buy groceries without feeling uncomfortable. In February, I received my first increased easement payment from the resort.
$9,000 right on schedule. I deposited it and used part of the money to replace some aging equipment in my garage. The HOA under Robert Chen’s leadership seemed to be functioning much better. I heard fewer complaints from locals about ridiculous rules or heavy-handed enforcement. Robert took a collaborative approach to community management, focusing on actual issues like snow removal and maintenance rather than trying to control every aspect of residents lives.
Spring came early that year. By mid-March, the snow was melting and the trails were turning to mud. I put my snowmobile away for the season and started thinking about other projects. The cabin needed a new roof and I wanted to clear some dead trees from the eastern property line. In April, I got an unexpected call from Richard Voss, the HOA’s attorney from the lawsuit.
Mr. Archer, I wanted to reach out to you with an unusual request. What kind of request? I’m working with a different HOA in New Hampshire and they’re considering taking action against a property owner over a similar issue. I’ve advised them not to using your case as an example of how badly these things can go.
Would you be willing to speak with their board about your experience? I was surprised. You want me to talk them out of suing someone? I want you to help them understand the potential consequences of aggressive action against neighboring property owners. Sometimes hearing from someone who’s actually been through the conflict is more effective than hearing from an attorney.
What’s the issue? The property owner has a small shooting range on his land. The HOA wants him to shut it down. That sounded familiar. Another case of an HOA trying to control property they didn’t own. What does the property owner want to do? He’s talking about blocking the HOA’s access to a shared road. Sound familiar? I laughed.
All right, I’ll talk to them, but I’m not going to tell them what to do. I’m just going to explain what happened to me and let them draw their own conclusions. That’s all I’m asking. I ended up having a video call with the New Hampshire HOA board. There were six people on the call, all looking nervous.
I told them the story of Susan Mitchell and the snowmobile ban, the lawsuit, the easement termination, and how it had all eventually been resolved. I didn’t editorialize much. I just laid out the facts. When I finished, one of the board members asked, “Do you think we should just let him keep the shooting range?” I think you should ask yourself what you’re really trying to accomplish and whether it’s worth the potential consequences.
Is the shooting range actually causing harm, or is it just something you don’t like? If it’s causing harm, there might be legal options that don’t involve directly confronting the property owner. If it’s just something you don’t like, maybe learn to live with it. Another board member said, “But property values might go down, might not.
” You know what definitely hurts property values? National news coverage of an HOA conflict that makes your community look like it’s run by tyrants. That happened to Pine Summit Village. They’re still recovering from the bad publicity. The board ended up voting not to take action against the property owner. Voss called me afterward to thankme.
You probably just saved everyone involved a lot of money and headaches. I wish someone had done that for me and Susan Mitchell. In June, I attended the town’s summer festival, an annual event that brings together locals and tourists for food, music, and various activities. I was walking through the craft vendors when I ran into Patricia Donavan, one of the former HOA board members who’d accompanied Susan to my door that first day.
Nathan, can I talk to you for a minute? She asked. Sure. We stepped away from the crowd. Patricia looked uncomfortable. I wanted to apologize for my part in what happened last year. Susan convinced us that you were being a nuisance and I went along with it without really thinking about whether it was right. I appreciate that.
I also wanted you to know that a lot of us are embarrassed about how the HOA behaved. Susan had a way of making everything seem like an emergency that required immediate action. She’d work people up at meetings until everyone was angry about whatever issue she was focused on. She’s a very effective agitator. She’s moved actually.
Sold her condo in March and moved back to Connecticut. I think the social isolation got to her. I wasn’t surprised, but I was a little sorry to hear it. I hadn’t wanted to drive anyone out of their home. That’s unfortunate. Is it though? She made life difficult for a lot of people, not just you.
The new HOA board is so much more reasonable. Patricia smiled. Anyway, I just wanted to say I’m sorry. You were right to stand your ground. Over the following year, life settled into a comfortable routine. I worked on my software projects, maintained my property, and enjoyed the mountain. The easement road stayed in good condition, and the resort continued to thrive.
I never had any further conflicts with the HOA. I did occasionally think about Susan Mitchell and wonder if she’d learned anything from the experience. Probably not. People like that rarely do. They just move to a new place and create the same problem somewhere else. But that wasn’t my concern anymore. What I had learned was the importance of understanding your rights and being willing to defend them.
Property ownership comes with both privileges and responsibilities. And sometimes those rights are challenged by people or organizations that overstep their authority. When that happens, you have to be prepared to stand firm even when it’s difficult or expensive. I also learned that most conflicts can be resolved through reasonable negotiation if both parties approach the situation in good faith.
The tragedy of my situation with the HOA was that it never had to escalate the way it did. A little respect, a little communication, and a willingness to compromise could have solved everything. But when one party acts unreasonably, the other party has to be prepared to respond. That’s exactly what I’d done.
On the one-year anniversary of signing the settlement agreement, I took my snowmobile out for a ride. Even though it was May and there wasn’t any snow, I just fired it up in my garage, listening to the engine, remembering everything that had happened. The machine was more than just a recreational vehicle now.
It had become a symbol of my determination to protect what was mine. I turned off the engine and looked out at the mountain. My greatgrandfather had bought this land with the dream of creating something that would last, something he could pass down to his children and grandchildren. My grandfather had maintained it and eventually granted the easement to help a business while protecting his family’s interests.
My father had loved this property and taught me to love it, too. and I had defended it against an HOA that didn’t understand boundaries, against a legal system that sometimes favors the wealthy and connected, against social pressure to just give in and make things easier for everyone else. I defended it and I’d won.
The property was secure. The trails were mine and the snowmobiles would keep running for generations to come, just as they always had. That evening, I sat on my porch, watching the sunset paint the mountains in shades of orange and purple. The access road below carried a few cars heading home from the resort, their headlights cutting through the growing darkness. The resort was doing well.
The HOA was functioning properly, and I was at peace on my property. Everything had worked out exactly as it should have. Not easily, not quickly, but correctly. I raised a beer toward the mountain, a silent toast to my greatgrandfather, my grandfather, and my father. They’d trusted me to protect what they’d built and I had.
The land was safe, the trails were clear, and nobody was telling me what I could or couldn’t do on my own property. That was all I’d ever wanted.
