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FISCHER: Mountain homes have amazing views, unique challenges

By Jen Fischer - | Jul 31, 2026

Photo supplied, Jen Fischer

Jen Fischer

While showing a mountain home high above Weber Canyon last week, my buyers and I stepped out onto the property to take in the view. Towering ponderosa pines surrounded us, their trunks so massive it would’ve taken three of us holding hands to wrap around one. The air smelled like pine needles and sunshine, and for a brief moment, it felt like we had wandered into one of those peaceful nature documentaries where nothing bad ever happens. We paused to admire the trees, commenting on how majestic they looked standing guard over the property. Then I heard it–the sound of a sharp crack in the distance. I imagined a beaver whistling, “Timber!” overhead.

However, before any of us had time to process what was happening, a 20-foot pine came crashing to the ground just yards in front of us. Branches exploded in every direction. The earth shook. Birds launched into the air in a panic, undoubtedly cursing whoever had interrupted their afternoon. The three of us stood frozen, mouths hanging open, silently calculating whether we had just narrowly avoided becoming the evening news.

We looked around. Despite my imagination, there were no beavers surrounding the tree. Nor did any giant grizzlies tumble out during the fall. As it turned out, the tree had just picked exactly this time to give up the ghost. This tree, which had likely been standing dead for years, finally decided to take the tumble. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, wood chips to forest. No windstorm. No chainsaw. No dramatic lumberjack shouting warnings. It simply decided that after decades of standing upright, today seemed like a perfectly reasonable day to lie down.

As the adrenaline coursing through all of our veins finally wore off, I couldn’t help but picture Carl Spackler from Caddyshack waging his ridiculous one-man war against that infuriating gopher. Only this wasn’t a golf course, and there wasn’t a groundskeeper in sight to blame. This was mountain real estate, and Mother Nature had just reminded us that she still owns the controlling interest. We may negotiate contracts, inspect roofs, and argue over appraisal values, but she’s the one who decides when a tree clocks out for good.

Mountain homes tend to be highly desirable properties. The breathtaking views, towering pines, clean air, and abundant wildlife can seem attractive to even the most mercurial of urbanites. What buyers sometimes overlook, however, is that the wildlife comes with the property. I have shown mountain homes where elk have devoured landscaping, squirrels have taken up residency in attics, and woodpeckers have hammered the siding like feathered serial killers on caffeine. I’ve seen rodent-chewed wiring and cougar scat paw prints. Wildlife experts and insurers verify that animals account for much of the damage in Utah’s residential mountain communities. Add termites and wildfire, and mountain living suddenly comes with responsibilities as impressive as the views.

We learned that the hard way. Shortly after my husband and I closed on our existing mountain home around Labor Day weekend of 2019, we were quickly reminded that Mother Nature is still the original owner.

Everything we owned was still in boxes and our beloved husky dog, Gracee, started acting unusual and restless. Minutes later, sirens echoed up our dead-end street, and we immediately received our first visitor. It was the fire marshal. Our mountain was ablaze with wildfire. He was letting us know that if we heard three blasts from the horn of the firetruck, we were to evacuate immediately. Seconds later, the horn sounded. Surrounded by boxes of belongings and keepsakes, we looked at each other and asked, “What do we take?” The answer came quickly: ourselves and Gracee. Everything else could be replaced.

In that case, the fire was thankfully contained, and we returned home the next morning. The experience taught us that enjoying mountain living also means preparing for it. Maintaining defensible space, trimming trees and bushes, clearing roofs and gutters of pine needles, and using fire-resistant materials were among the best ways to protect our mountain home.

Now, in July 2026, we can embrace living among the wildlife. Over the last seven years, we have scared off raccoons, welcomed deer (although they are afraid of Gracee, who treats every living creature like a Disney character), removed rattlesnakes, and rehomed rodents of every size and shape. We now have a clear evacuation plan.

Every home comes with challenges, whether it be in the city or the mountains. However, if it’s in the mountains, keep in mind that wildlife and wildfire were here first. Living here means accepting that reality, respecting the land, and peacefully coexisting. It is all part of what makes mountain living worth it.

Jen Fischer is an associate broker and Realtor. She can be reached at 801-645-2134 or jen@jen-fischer.com.

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