What's life like inside a 'living' house?

When Robert Crosby designed his Eagle River bioshelter home in the 1980s, he had big hopes the house, designed to mimic a living organism, would have practical applications in rural Alaska.

Built on the side of a mountain in the Chugach range, the house was designed to put out what it takes in — collecting rainwater and sunlight and turning them into drinking water and heat.

The original idea was to create a home with a total water reclamation system. As part of that, there's a man-made creek running through the structure to help filter the water. At one end of the creek is a pond filled with koi carp — if something unhealthy goes into the system and the fish die, the homeowners know the water is not safe to drink.

It turned out the system worked, but the idea to replicate the house in rural Alaska never took off.

Over 30 years later, the prototype house is still going and has instead inspired its new owners, Cindee and Curt Karns, to embrace sustainable living.

Moving in
Before moving to Eagle River in 2008, Karns didn't have much exposure to green living. She and her husband both grew up outside Fairbanks. She'd done just the basics to improve the carbon and waste footprint of their Fairbanks home — replacing lightbulbs, recycling and doing an energy audit.

But she wanted to do more. So when the couple decided to move, Karns began looking for a place to live. The first step? Googling "green houses" to consider what their options were.

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The bioshelter was one of a few, but there was a catch. Since the home doesn't have a traditional water or sewer system, it was difficult to find financing for it. No running water makes the house "totally illegal," according to Karns. In 2016, the home was assessed by the city at $326,700.

But the Karnses were able to not only make the financing work, but to make living in the house possible too.

"I was always interested in living green," she said. "I'm not sure I knew what I was getting into with this house."

Learning the system

Every system in the house is designed to minimize waste. All biodegradable waste goes into a composting toilet on the first floor, and the fertilizer is spread over multiple gardens. Water from the shower and sinks is reclaimed through the filtration system.

The house isn't carbon-neutral — it still uses electricity and natural gas. But the Karnses try to reduce energy by keeping the house at 60 degrees in winter and offsetting energy use with a Finnish-designed masonry stove that efficiently releases heat.

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Cindee Karns sees the next step as producing more food. The gardens at the bioshelter include a rooftop vegetable patch, a hay and mud greenhouse, and an experimental "rhubarb garden," in which rhubarb surrounds the vegetable patch to keep moose away. A small orchard is slowly coming together.

Now they eat about 75 percent local, according to Karns, which includes harvesting fish and wild game like moose and caribou. She hopes to eventually harvest all their food from their 2 acres of land.

There have been plenty of learning curves. Apple trees in the solarium died last year after an insect infestation. While showing off the house, Karns pointed out there was only a bug screen hanging over the front door in an effort to cool the house.

"I shouldn't do that," she said. "Sometimes bears walk in."

She said that since learning to live in the house, it has become routine. But could someone not as devoted to the cause live the way she does?

"Probably not," she said.

That's because all of the house systems are interrelated, she said. When one system fails, it causes a cascade effect.

But if having a "living house" isn't for everyone, Karns thinks there are still things to be learned. People can be more water-conscious, she said, and reduce their own waste.

Living in the house inspired her to start a permaculture guild, the Alaska Cold Climate Permaculture Institute, which works to promote permanent and self-sustaining agricultural systems in the Anchorage area.

Karns understands critics may think what she's doing is "hippie" or cultish. She said one neighbor thought what she was doing "sounded communist." But that's not what she's getting at.

"I'm trying to create something that lasts, that's not disposable culture," she said.