Letter from Chip Northrup
Proposal Is Odd, Disjointed
I was a land developer in Texas, meaning I bought land, secured the entitlements on it, then sold off parcels to builders. My largest project was 1,200 acres, which I contracted to sell to Crow Holdings, run by Harlan Crow, who collects Americana, including Supreme Court justices. Of all the land development projects that I have looked at, one of the oddest is what’s proposed at the northwest side of Lake Otsego: The Nightmare on Wedderspoon Hollow. For years, a Manhattan real estate developer has bought up much of the wilderness, forests, and wetlands between Keys Road and Wedderspoon Hollow. It’s easy to find: Where the paved roads stop, the property begins.
The owners are now proposing to subdivide six tracts into 111 lots, most of which are gerrymandered to either meet a minimum road frontage requirement or a minimum spacing for a septic and a well. These lots would be cut out of old growth forest and steep hillsides overlooking picturesque swamps, much of which is in the Glimmerglass Historic District. To access the six tracts, the developer will need to pave over three miles of dirt roads, where sediment will run off into the wetlands and lake. Since there is no public sewer system available, all of these lots will either be on separate septic or on a treatment plant. The byproducts of septic systems are nitrates and phosphates—which will get into wetlands and the lake, driving harmful algal blooms, HABs. At build-out, the population of these tracts could be close to 300 people, which will generate a lot of septic nutrients. This could have the effect of turning the 43 wetlands and 39 streams into pea soup.
These 111 lots, none of which will be “affordable,” are located about as far away from high schools, grocery stores and fire stations as you can get without getting wet. Whoever is last off the Cherry Valley school bus will have their homework done by the time they get home. Where there is almost no traffic now, there will be upwards of 200 vehicles a day, many of which will descend onto Red Schoolhouse Road via a newly-proposed thoroughfare.
If permitted, this hodge-podge could take decades to build out. The 92-year-old owner might not live to see the end result. We will. The most likely scenario is that the owners will get whatever entitlements they can bargain out of the townships, then sell off the platted lots closest to the paved roads. Then the rest of this disjointed project might stall, which large, multi-year, rural subdivisions can do. (Ask me how I know.)
These remote wetlands, pristine streams, unpaved hillsides and secluded woodlands act as a nature preserve, a sanctuary. Manhattan it ain’t. Most of these 1,500 acres should be The Manocherian State Natural Area. Has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?
Chip Northrup
Cooperstown
