Short term havoc

by Olivia Lueckemeyer

In this two-part series we explore the recent phenomenon of short-term rentals, the effect on the community, and what town is doing to solve the prevailing issue. This week, we delve into the stories of locals who have both suffered and benefited at the hands of industry giants such as AirBnB and VRBO. 

Over 22 months, local event planner Heather Sengelmann moved seven times.

Her story starts like many others, with the February 2014 flooding and subsequent condemning of Mt. Crested Butte’s Marcellina apartment complex. After scrambling to find long-term housing with two roommates, Sengelmann decided to go out on her own, eventually resorting to living out of her car while crashing in a Gunnison basement. Once off-season rolled around, and the housing trail once again turned cold, Sengelmann headed home to San Antonio.

“Unfortunately, the housing shortage caused me to take whatever I could find and there were always multiple people looking at the rooms before the renter selected someone,” she recounted. “I went home for six weeks after that for off-season, not because I wanted to, but because I couldn’t find anything to rent before June.”

After the Marcellina apartments flooded, 44 units were deemed unfit for habitation, and with some units housing up to three tenants, a significant number of locals were displaced as a result of the mass eviction. The majority of tenants were young 20-somethings working in the service industry, so as a result, the market was inundated with millennials on the hunt for affordable housing. And although the housing shortage has been a problem for many years, this event heavily contributed to the current dilemma that is the Crested Butte housing crisis.

Sengelmann eventually returned to the valley and resumed her search in a cramped, expensive market. Temporary subleases were her fallback, but the imminent reality of having to pack up and move again was always on her mind.

“From there all I could find that I could afford were four- to five-month subleases before the original renter would come back and I’d be on to the next place,” she explained. “I always knew I was going to have to move again, but I was hopeful the next place would be more long term.”

Finally, in the summer of 2015, Sengelmann landed a one-year lease on the mountain in what used to be a vacation rental by owner (VRBO). And while she is grateful to have found long-term housing, she fears she might once again fall victim to the unpredictable whims of the housing market.

“We plan to renew for another year in October, but we have no idea yet if they will continue to long-term or turn it back into a VRBO,” Sengelmann said. “It’s been nice to settle into a place finally, but the idea of having to move again in a few months scares and worries me constantly.”

Like many communities across the United States, the phenomenon of short-term rentals (STR) has had a noticeable impact on the local housing market. Landlords and homeowners who used to rent long-term to locals now opt for the more profitable route of listing their properties on STR sites such as VRBO or AirBnB. As a result, during the slow seasons of Crested Butte, once-vibrant streets are now lined with vacant, unlit homes.

Kochevar’s bartender Alex Shelley lost his housing to a VRBO in June, just two weeks before he was supposed to renew his lease, forcing him to move for the fifth time in two years.

“We were going to renew our lease and were even told we could, and then the landlord, who has been really good to townies for a long time, kicked us out and the people below us,” Shelley explained. “He is turning it into a vacation rental, and because of that, six people lost their housing.”

Shelley is no stranger to the housing crisis. Last summer, he was homeless for three months after his landlord, who hoped to renovate and sell the property, refused to renew his lease. To this day, the house sits empty with a “for sale” sign in the front yard.

He eventually secured housing in the Columbine Condominiums, but it didn’t take long for lightning to strike twice. Due to construction plans, his lease was shortened by two months, so in anticipation of the inevitable, Shelley didn’t waste any time in securing backup accommodations.

“I didn’t want to get stuck with a bag in my hand, so the first place I found I started paying rent on,” Shelley said. “I was paying two rents at a time just to make sure I would have a place to live when the other one ended, because I didn’t want to get stuck homeless again.”

Of course, many landlords handle the transition to STRs in a more civil manner. Avalanche bartender Jill Wilkinson will also lose her housing to VRBO next May. Thankfully, her landlord gave her a year’s-worth of notice, allowing Wilkinson plenty of time to search for accommodations.

“My landlord has been great in giving me ample notice that this is his decision,” she explained. “I am definitely upset about the fact that I’m losing my place to live, but I am not surprised. I’ve felt this was inevitable due to the significant amount of short-term rentals that have been created in the past couple of years in Crested Butte…

“I do understand and respect his decision. He feels he will make more money short-term renting,” Wilkinson continued. “There is a large construction project that has to take place on the building sooner or later, and I believe he thinks short-term renting will be more helpful in funding the expensive upcoming project.”

As a bartender, Wilkinson has noticed the negative impact the housing shortage has had on the service industry. With fewer places to live, businesses are constantly short-staffed, causing them to lower their hiring standards.

“Staff is hard to find, and when you do find someone they may very likely be inexperienced or not invested in the job they’re hired for,” she explained.

The housing shortage has left a sour taste in the mouths of many locals, and for some, it’s enough to resort to the most drastic solution: leaving the valley altogether. Local artist Jesse Blumenthal has lived here for nine years, but soon he and his girlfriend will move to Montana. Loss of housing over a disagreement with his landlord concerning what constitutes “commercial work” when using the garage to produce art, as well as the bothersome construction of a VRBO in front of Blumenthal’s rented accessory dwelling, prompted a move to Gunnison, which hasn’t panned out the way he had hoped.

“The last search for housing a little over a year ago was very difficult,” he recalled. “It took us over six months to find the place we live in Gunnison. We wanted to stay in the Butte, where we’ve formed more of a community, but it just wasn’t possible.

“While my girlfriend and I are working down in Gunnison, we have decided it’s just not for us,” he continued. “The community is different, and in a lot of respects that’s nice, but after so long in the social environment of Crested Butte, it feels less like I live somewhere magical and more like I could be Anywhere West, U.S.A.”

Blumenthal, like many others, acknowledges that the town powers-that-be are working to find a solution, but change is not happening quickly enough—and meanwhile, long-term residents are being phased out.

“We live in a small place, and the physical limits are such that with inevitable growth, we are seeing gentrification that has hit the fan in the last two years,” Blumenthal said. “I don’t think anyone expected change to come so rapidly, but it is undeniable. The response from the town has not been as aggressive as the gentrification. They’re trying, but not affecting change as fast as the other groups of second-home owners, short-term renters, and location-less income workers.”

On the other side of the debate are long-time locals who are struggling just as hard to survive Crested Butte’s difficult economic landscape, but who happen to also own property. Crested Butte News feature writer and vocalist Dawne Belloise is using a room in her home as a source of additional income, because without it, living in Crested Butte would be impossible.

“Because there’s no way I can make it in Crested Butte on my income, I short-term my tiny downstairs bedroom,” Belloise explained. “The income I make from AirBnB allows me to pay my property taxes and pay down the exorbitant credit card bills I’ve racked up in daily living expenses because it’s so damned expensive to live here. Even when I was driving the bus 40 hours weekly and working on weekly profiles and features for the paper, I still couldn’t keep my head above water.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining. I’ve chosen this life,” she continued. “This non-conforming lifestyle in a place that is so magnificent, you’ll do practically anything to stay here. Many locals short-terming their rooms or homes just need to make a decent wage, and local wages have never been comparable to the cost of living here.”

Stay tuned for Part 2 in next week’s issue, when we will delve into what the town is doing to tackle this pressing STR issue.