A New Life ON THE RIO GRANDE

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As it turned out, my property was a minuscule 60' x 180' spec on the lower left quadrant. There's an awful lot of desert out there, but by identifying hills, dirt roads and old highway signs, I got an idea of where it was. I spent day after day inching my way down two-lane ruts and up flood-scoured arroyos with whatever unlucky friend I could snag, looking for invisible 34-year-old wooden surveyor's stakes. Unsuccessful, I bought tile land anyway because I liked the view. it took three and a half years before I actually stood on what I carefully measured and determined was my little strip of mesa.

I was lucky. My property was not at the bottom of an arroyo or in the middle of a flash flood water course or, worse yet, next to anybody who had already built. It I had used any sense, I would have pinpointed my lot before the purchase, but I was green, eager and ignorant.

 My land was part of a land scam perpetrated by a corporation that "gave" away building lots as door prizes at the Seattle World's Fair-you know, the one featured in that old Elvis Presley movie. The developers were later brought up on charges of fraud, but the state never really pursued the matter. Meanwhile, thousands of people now owned a piece of New Mexico that they'd never seen, and many of them let the taxes lapse after 20 or so years. In turn, the state auctioned off these pieces to the highest cash bidder, who, as the purchaser, owned the land if no one showed up to reclaim it and pay the back taxes within 90 days of the sale. My land is not title insurable because of this scandal, but with the state as the original seller I feel secure in my ownership. I can't take out a mortgage with a bank, which is fine with me since I plan to stay. Oddly enough, my home is insurable.

From the tax rolls, I acquired the names of the people who owned land next to mine, and I wrote to each of them with a purchase offer. Luckily, I was able to buy the next quarter acre on my long southern border for the not so exorbitant price of $500. little by little I am adding on.

I have a rough (and I mean three-mile-per-hour-in-4-wheel-drive-low-gear-and don't-stop-for-anything-in-the-wet-season rough) dirt track to my house. It makes every day an adventure and keeps out the joyriders. I own two trucks just in case one doesn't start, since I have to get to work five days a week just like everyone else ( manage an old-fashioned mercantile). I was forced to buy the right-of-way to the first half mile of road running from the highway to my property, as it lies on land owned by the Bureau of Land Management (BLM). out here you either pay your mechanic for the parts that rattle loose or you pay to improve the road. The BLM right-of-way application fee is stiff I paid $375. This money goes to pay a team of biologists and archaeologists to determine whether there are any endangered species along, or ancient ruins under, the roadway. If you pass these inspections, you sign an agreement detailing the criteria for building and maintaining the road and the time in which you have to do it. You must then pay' in advance, a five-year easement fee of $186 in order to use the road you are paying to build. Remember, this is the federal government, with its convoluted regulations. All told, my half mile of road will cost an estimated $15,000 to $17,000 and will take up to (but no more than) 10 years to finish.

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