The other day I drove past the narrow line of white and green garages, past the header supports that dip and twist down the line, an unfortunate meandering owed to the dirt floor that provides their support, and turned sharply, but slowly, into the parking lot. My car, black, shiny, excessive, and without obvious blemish, nestled up to an unmarked parking spot nearest the brick path that would lead me towards my destination. The lot was empty, and all the spots unmarked. When I left the car and walked down the hand laid brick path, the click clack of my leather soled shoes on the hard brick walk disrupted the solitude of a setting that had been hibernating since November. Birds chirped, squirrels chased, houses were still and peaceful, the lake stretched taut like a pastel canvas, and I was click clacking in a most unnatural way. One of these things was not like the other.
My audible assault on the bucolic surroundings continued as I walked past cottages bearing the names of owners present and past, names that hang from small metal brackets nailed up not during recent decades, but by past generations. Signs that told visitors, like me, which cottage was owned by who. The screened porches of the cottages were still dark from winter, with rolled down canvas covering old screens that fail to keep winter at bay. My journey from car to cottage wasn’t more than 150 feet, but as I soaked in the atmosphere of the Harvard Club I felt as though my shiny car and stiff heals were doing a supreme disservice to a property that was obviously intended to be casual. Had I driven up in a blue and wood Jeep Wagoneer and walked softly in sandals, that would have been preferred. The Harvard Club pathways and lawns are meant for sandals and bare feet, for playing and laughing and lounging. The screened porches are meant to host a lamp or two, where nighttime walks from car to cottage pass through rows of dimly lit porches that let in the mid-summer rhythm of the cicada and encourage book reading and game playing and laughing and resting.
This is where generations of families have bonded and grown up within the four thin walls of the 19 cottages that line these hallowed grounds. This is a place where membership is limited to your ability to know a guy who knows a guy whose brother has a place here. Today, I’m the guy that knew a guy who knew another guy’s brother, and this is the day that your opportunity is staring you in the face, flapping its arms, trying its very best to catch your eyes. Today there is another opportunity to spend your summers lakeside, with the soft hum of cicadas in the background, the dim lights of your neighbors porches lighting the way to your own piece of history, and thankfully, this opportunity comes with a porch of its own. And a slip. And a garage. And a stunning lake view. But I’m getting ahead of myself.
There are opportunities in every market, but those opportunities are not equal. Finding a nice house on a suburban lot at a nice price is indeed a pleasant opportunity, but it is far from life altering. Finding a vacation home is almost always life altering, particularly if it’s at Geneva, but even in our exclusive market not all opportunities are created equally. The opportunity that I’m presenting to you today to buy a three bedroom, one and a half bath cottage in the Harvard Club with the aforementioned lake view, slip, and to-die-for screened porch all for $479k? Well that’s an opportunity that makes a suburban house at a nice price look more like a curse.
My newest listing in the Harvard Club is available to you, today, before the rest of the world knows about it. This is a valuable service that I offer to my cherished readership, and I hope you appreciate learning about this offering before the broader market does. The cottage is humble, so if you’re looking for a modern structure, best keep looking. The cottage design is basic, but does offer a fireplace, three ample bedrooms, and a dynamite porch. There are limitations that I would be remiss in not mentioning, but those limitations (co-op ownership cash only purchase, no dogs allowed on grounds from mid-June through Labor Day) translate into exclusivity. If you’re a buyer paralyzed by foreclosure fear, rest assured- the cash only nature of these purchases dictates that none of your Harvard Club neighbors will ever receive a lis pendens notice on their property here. As an added bonus, annual association dues and taxes combined total a little less than $8k for this property, making ownership easy and less expensive than traditional homes with boatslips on Geneva.
The lakefront at the Harvard Club is the most idyllic lakefront of any association on the lake. There is a boating pier and private swim pier, as well as plenty of open grassy lawns for strolling and contemplating where and when dinner will occur. The lakeside screened house has been converted into a ping pong epicenter, and I will gladly accept your invite to wail on you with my formidable forehand after your successful close. The slip is large and accessible, so please do bring your boat, your swimsuit, some books, a new copy of US Weekly (because I know you’re dying to know who Bradley Cooper will date next!), your favorite ping pong paddle, and some sandals. These are the only accoutrements to a Harvard Club weekend that will be necessary, and with this amazing offering, you could actually be settled for a long, lazy summer before that long lazy summer even begins.
As was the case with the last Harvard Club and Belvidere Park offerings, this property will not last long. If you’re interested, we should really get together this weekend to take a look. I’ll wear my click-clackety shoes. Jump in. Become the steward of this historical property and keep it in your family for 70 or so years just as the current family has done. Embrace this cottage and it will change your life.