Rising costs may force closure of woman’s farm

Pearl the white peacock cautiously enters the rabbit cage looking to start trouble.

She pecks the unsuspecting bunny in the face, and it flails around to get away. Hay shoots out from the sides of the cage.

Farmer Sharon Linsenbardt separates the two, and Pearl slinks over with her head down to apologize. She's rewarded with a head rub.

Across the way, a mini goat named Tulip settles next to Tanky, a 30-year-old tortoise, for an afternoon grassy snack.

 It's these images Linsenbardt fears she can no longer make public as she decides whether to keep open her 50-year-old farm at Grand Teton Drive and Tenaya Way.
  Its fate rests in the hands of Clark County commissioners, who are trying to strike a balance between helping Linsenbardt commercialize her 5-acre farm property and easing the concerns of some neighbors who oppose parts of the proposed expansion.
  The popularity of the farm and its more than 400 animals is quickly outgrowing her ability to care for it, and it's not translating into a sustainable cash flow. Free admission, cheap jams, pumpkins, beets and $5 pony rides don't pay the bills, she said.
  Linsenbardt, 63, wants to build a recreational facility, a farmers market and a museum and open them for private events.

"This should have never become a business without the proper business licensing; I get that," she said. "But it expanded, and it's time to correct it. What do you think I'm going to do, have a stripper pole and a band playing?"

Acting as the county zoning board Wednesday, commissioners approved a shorter cellphone tower than requested to generate revenue and designated hours of operation. They denied an events center, one of her most important projects. She can bring the project back to commissioners in two years, after hammering out details with business licensing, Las Vegas city water and sewer, among other government agencies.

It's not the first time Linsenbardt has battled county government . County officials took her land through eminent domain to build U.S. Highway 95 and tried again once Interstate 215 was widened. She also fought to keep the public horse trail she helped design from swallowing part of her property.

Commissioner Tom Collins, who in­herited the area through redistricting, said the county requirements were "nit-picking."

"A little common sense goes a lot farther than some regulations," Collins said. "She's a rural piece of property; most of these regulations she shouldn't have to apply for in my opinion."

Neighbors who oppose the expansion are concerned with parking issues. Visitors now park in a 50-foot gravel area near Grand Teton Drive.

Neighbor Tom Lobeck said no one wants to see the farm close its doors and agreed with the commission's restrictions. "Her cash flow problems are unfortunate, but they should not be our problems," Lobeck said.

Wayne Harris, another neighbor, said those who have questioned the project have been "portrayed as the bad guys when we're truly not."

Both said Linsenbardt's comments to close the farm if she didn't get her waivers were unfair .

But Linsenbardt said closing the farm isn't a threat, it's an economic reality.

She pays $10,000 a month in animal upkeep alone. That doesn't include her mortgage, insurance or maintenance on the farm. She and her husband, Glenn, who make the farm run with help from volunteers, are about $400,000 upside down on their home. The couple has been burning through retirement funds to make ends meet.

"They think they're not going to shut down the farm if I stay just like this, but just like this can't work anymore. If I don't get some help here, my 63-year-old legs can't do it anymore."

Contact reporter Kristi Jourdan at kjourdan@reviewjournal.com or 702-455-4519.