First Impressions: A Lot to Love, A Lot to Fix

It was our last day in town when we pulled up to a "For Sale" sign in the front yard of an unassuming fixer-upper. We hadn't planned on touring any properties that day, let alone one that looked like it needed more than just a little TLC. But after years of casually searching, scrolling Zillow, and imagining having a vacation rental of our own, here we were, standing in front of a house that was either a hidden gem or a total disaster.

The good news? Location, location, location. This place was less than a mile from Yellowstone’s North Entrance and was walkable to restaurants, shops, and even a grocery store. The bad news? It needed work. A lot of work. We wanted to get our hands dirty and learn a few skills, but this was a bigger project than we were prepared for. The exterior was unfinished, wires were hanging in odd places, and we could already tell the main house—let alone whatever was sitting in the backyard—was going to be a serious project.

First Glimpse: Much to Love, Much to Fix

As we pulled into the driveway, we immediately realized two things:

1️⃣ This property needs a LOT of work.
2️⃣ This property has serious potential.

As we got out of the car and walked toward the back door of the main house, where we’d enter, we counted four separate structures on the small residential lot.

✅ The Main House: A small two-bedroom, two-bath home with an unfinished addition.

✅ A Dry Cabin: A standalone studio guest cabin without a bathroom or running water.

✅ A Historic Shed: A rustic shed that used to be a Yellowstone National Park ranger hut (!), complete with old park signage.

✅ An Unfinished Structure: A partially built shed, which, according to the listing, was intended to be a two-story apartment but had never been completed.

Not Perfect, But Maybe Perfect for Us?

A property with this many possibilities? At this price point? This close to one of the most iconic national parks in the world? We were intrigued.

But interest alone doesn’t buy a house, especially not one with this many unknowns and potential pitfalls. There’d be a lot to figure out. Was this a dream opportunity or a complete nightmare? Could we really tackle this large of a project?

Let me be clear: We’ve never done anything like this before.

We’re not fixer-uppers. No one’s asking to borrow our handyman skills. (Because we don’t have any.) The first home we bought was a new build, where, sure, we had to pick out all the finishes and spend hours at a design center, but beyond that, our involvement was minimal. We’d stop by the property every so often, check on the progress, and watch as a team of contractors handled everything else.

Our second home? A turnkey city condo that was move-in ready, no renovations required. We’ve never tiled a backsplash, replaced a light fixture, or demoed a wall. The biggest home project we’ve ever tackled (and I have to seriously think about this) has been putting together furniture. (Does that count?) And now, here we are, surrounded by massive projects in every direction, staring at a property that needs work everywhere we look.

But with multiple structures and walkability to town, we’re curious.

This property was located in Gardiner, Montana, less than one mile from the north entrance to Yellowstone National Park. And despite all of its odds and ends, it checked more boxes than anything we’d seen in our two-and-a-half years of searching.

📍 Near a major outdoor attraction → Check.
🏡 Multiple rentable structures → Check.
🚶‍♂️ Walkability to shops, restaurants, and a grocery store → Check.
🌲 A year-round destination with multiple seasons of tourism → Check.
🛠️ A place we could put our own touch on → Check.

Even with all its flaws, we couldn’t ignore the potential here. And the biggest surprise? The historic shed from Yellowstone. It was an incredibly charming, small, weathered structure that looked straight out of the park itself. With some restoration, it could become something really special.

We stood there, taking it all in, and I turned to Jonathan. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but… I think I like it.”

A House Stuck in the Middle of a Renovation

The listing photos had already set some expectations. We knew the interior wasn’t updated, and we knew the house had a lot of “DIY energy” to it. But the question was: How bad was it really?

Jonathan unlocked the back door of the main house, and we stepped inside. The first thing we noticed was that this house had been halfway renovated and then abandoned mid-project. Everywhere we looked, we saw signs of unfinished work.

🔹 The main living space had fresh floorboards, but baseboards were missing and transition strips weren’t installed.

🔹 The walls told a story of quick fixes. Layers of paint covered what were once holes or damaged drywall, but the patch jobs were obvious. Some doors had doorknobs barely hanging on, and in a few places, we could see straight through holes in the walls where plumbing had been accessed and never properly covered up.

🔹 The kitchen was fully functional but outdated. The cabinets appeared original, layered with years of repainted surfaces, causing cabinet doors to no longer close. The countertops had been replaced at some point, but they didn’t match the rest of the space. It was a kitchen that worked, but it needed love.

🔹 The bedrooms were in better shape but still unfinished. The primary bedroom was small but had decent natural light. The second bedroom was even smaller and had the same unfinished edges as the rest of the house… spots where baseboards or trim were missing and signs of quick and cheap patchwork repairs.

The biggest project of all was back in the first room we entered, the mudroom off the back door. At some point, the sellers added a second bathroom and a laundry room as an extension onto the back of the house, but it was very much unfinished.

It didn’t take long to realize that the main house needed more than just a little TLC. Many rooms needed an entire renovation. It was old, outdated, and worn down, with all the quirks you’d expect from a house built in the 1930s.

And the unfinished nature of the added laundry room and bathroom (no drywall mud or paint, partially complete flooring, missing outlet covers, etc.) wasn’t the addition’s only issue. The way they had set up this new bathroom was strange.

It had been built with an exterior door, the idea being that the dry cabin (which had no bathroom of its own) would use this second bathroom as its dedicated space. This meant that guests in the dry cabin would have to leave their cabin, walk outside, and enter through this exterior door to use the bathroom in the main house.

It could work, maybe, but it wasn’t ideal.

Backyard Charm: Guest Quarters, Ranger Hut & an Unfinished “Apartment”

We stepped outside to explore the other buildings on the property.

The Yellowstone Ranger Hut (AKA: The Charming Surprise)

The smallest structure on the property immediately stood out, not because of its size but because of its history. Originally a ranger hut inside Yellowstone National Park, this rustic building had been relocated to the property years ago, bringing a piece of the park with it. The classic park signage, the weathered wood, and the undeniable historic charm made it feel like it belonged in Yellowstone, and we loved it.

At the moment, it was nothing more than a storage space, packed to the brim with tools and building materials. We had no idea what we’d use it for, but we knew one thing: this had the potential to be something very, very special.

The Dry Cabin (AKA: The Rental-Ready Gem With One Big Problem)

As we followed the dirt steps past the ranger hut, we arrived at the dry cabin, a standalone, studio-sized retreat, separate from the main house. With its cozy feel and modern, airy design, we both felt at home in it immediately.

Recently built within the last few years, the cabin had aesthetically pleasing finishes, high ceilings, and a clean, contemporary feel that made it feel surprisingly spacious despite its small footprint. If you ignored the fact that it lacked water, it was move-in ready.

But that was the big issue. This beautiful cabin didn’t have plumbing.

No bathroom. No running water. No kitchen or kitchenette. The sellers had designed it as a true dry cabin, assuming guests would walk outside to use the second bathroom in the main house.

So, if we bought this property, we’d have a decision to make:

1️⃣ Leave it as a dry cabin, embracing the “glamping” experience.
2️⃣ Find a way to add plumbing, transforming it into a fully functional unit.

Either way, we loved this cabin. Even with its limitations, we only saw more potential.

The Unfinished Structure (AKA: The Wild Card)

The fourth and final structure on the property was, by far, the most unfinished of them all. At present, it was being used as another shed, originally intended to become a two-story apartment, but it was nowhere near completion.

It, too, had potential, but it was easily the most ambitious project on the property. And with zero construction experience, we figured this would be something we tackled later, if at all. But at least there was something started, with plumbing stubbed in and ready to be tied to water and sewer… right? (Famous last words.)

A dream deal or a money pit?

We’d seen everything, and even with all its flaws, this property checked nearly every box we had been searching for. The location was perfect. The multiple structures fit our vision. The price was lower than anything comparable in town. But the work required? A LOT.

As we stood there, going over what we had just seen, we both wondered the same thing: This is a huge project. But is it also exactly what we’ve been looking for?

This house didn’t just check all of our practical boxes. It checked a deeper box we hadn’t even put into words yet. It was a chance to create something from the ground up. A project we could put our own stamp on. A challenge that would push us outside our comfort zone.

This was not going to be a simple, turnkey rental purchase. This was a fixer-upper, through and through. We would have to renovate the kitchen of the main house. There was a lot of foundational work to be done and many surface-level cosmetic fixes to be addressed. We would have to finish the second bathroom and laundry room. And decide what to do with the dry cabin. We would have to determine if the unfinished studio was worth completing and what to do with the historic shed.

And yet, we didn’t feel (entirely) overwhelmed. We had been searching for a property for over two and a half years, and this was the first one that truly fit what we wanted.

We locked up, got back in our car, and officially left town with more questions than answers, but also with a feeling we hadn’t had with any other property. We could actually see this working.

So now, there was a decision to make.

Sure, we were excited, but there were legitimate questions to answer before jumping in with both feet. What’s the real condition of the house? How much work would it actually take to make it rental-ready? What are the risks of buying a fixer-upper in a remote small town like Gardiner?

Before making any decisions, we needed to call in the experts.

Keep reading… (#3) Cabin Chronicles: The Good, The Bad & The Inspection Report