That Time We Hosted Our First Guests and Everything Broke

"Hey, we just noticed we have no hot water and the microwave doesn't work."

The message popped up on Jon’s phone just before midnight. We stared at the screen in disbelief, our stomachs dropping. Our very first guests were in our Gardiner cabin with no hot water and no quick way to heat food. (We’re talking February. In Montana. Not ideal.) And we were 1,200 miles away in Dallas, completely helpless.

Welcome to remote hosting, where your midnight panic attacks come with a side of "what were we thinking?!"

The Fixer-Upper Reality Check

While the property was undergoing major transformation in the backyard, we were busy at work on the main house.

At first, we were riding the high of this new chapter. It had potential! It had character! It had charm! But the more we started pulling back the layers (and hauling them to the dump), the more we realized what we were really in for.

A “quick win” like replacing a sink stopper turned into a plumbing debacle ending with a corroded pipe, three trips to the local hardware store, and emergency foam sealant. Every time we went to fix one thing, we ended up creating a bigger problem. (Or uncovering one that was waiting in the wings all along.)

That's what those first months in Gardiner were like. Our to-do list kept growing faster than we could cross things off. Not all of it was urgent, but all of it mattered. Plus, our first guests were about to arrive, and while the place wasn’t going to feel finished, we at least wanted it to seem on its way.

Running a Short-Term Rental from 1,200 Miles Away (What Could Possibly Go Wrong?)

Managing a property near Yellowstone while living in Texas seemed ambitious, but we thought: we're capable, scrappy, travel-savvy people. We'll figure it out.

Spoiler alert: We are figuring it out, but plenty has gone hilariously, stressfully wrong along the way.

We bought our cabins in November 2023, right before Thanksgiving. They were clearly not perfect. They were not finished. But the main house was (largely) functional.

We spent December and early January lining up contractors, fixing sketchy electrical work (yes, that was the actual description on our invoice), and making the main house guest-ready.

Then we ripped the band-aid off and listed it.

We were honest. We posted current photos. We wrote an Airbnb listing that made it clear this was a work-in-progress and a home under renovation. That this would be more of a Yellowstone basecamp than a luxury escape, but for the right guest, we were going to offer it at a steal.

The Midnight Hot Water Crisis

Fast forward to that midnight message from our first guests. No hot water? But we had just replaced the water heater! We had just rewired the electrical panel! We had done everything right!

Except, clearly not.

It was midnight. We were multiple states away. Our guests were in Montana. In February. Without heat or hot food.

There was nothing we could do until morning. It was too late to call our electrician, but we were too anxious to sleep. By 3 a.m., we were still wide awake—reading forums, troubleshooting possible causes, and digging through posts from other hosts with similar problems.

As soon as the sun came up, we called our electrician and narrowed it down to two possibilities:

The breaker for the water heater hadn’t been flipped back on.
There was a deeper electrical issue with no quick fix.

We messaged our property manager and asked if she was available to take a look. We were hoping it was something simple. A forgotten breaker. A three-second fix. But also? If it was the breaker, we couldn’t help feeling frustrated. That meant the whole situation could’ve been avoided. No cold showers. No panicked 3 a.m. Googling. No calls to the electrician first thing in the morning.

At the same time, if it wasn’t the breaker? Then we had a much bigger, much more expensive problem on our hands.

She flipped the switch, turned on the water at the kitchen sink, and five minutes later sent us a text: “All good!”

Just like that, crisis averted. The guests were appreciative, we were immensely grateful, and we learned our first lesson in remote hosting: "Boots on the ground" are non-negotiable.

We didn’t need someone to manage our entire guest experience (we love hosting and communication with guests and creating the guest experience!), but we did need someone to show up when we couldn’t. Someone who could fix the little things before they became big things.

5 Lessons from 1,200 Miles Away

That first guest experience gave us a crash course in remote hosting. Here's what else we learned:

1. Radical Honesty in Your Listings

We told guests exactly what they were getting… unfinished trim, scuffed floors, second bathroom not fully renovated. And you know what? Our guests have been awesome. They're kind, understanding, and appreciate the value and location.

2. Build Your Local Dream Team

You don’t need a traditional property manager if you don’t want one. But you absolutely need local help. Our setup includes:

A reliable local cleaner for turnovers
A property manager paid hourly for emergencies and check-ins
A few trusted contractors on speed dial for bigger repairs

That trio makes remote hosting possible. Budget for it from day one.

3. **Expect the Unexpected (Any Big Brother fans out there?)**

You can prepare obsessively and things will still go sideways. We upgraded all the electrical, but a breaker didn't get flipped. We installed a brand-new water heater, but our guests still had cold showers.

Gardiner is a small, remote town (population ~800). Sometimes the internet mysteriously disappears. Sometimes utility workers show up unannounced while your guests are having breakfast because in a town this size, they come when they come. Usually without warning.

And no matter how thorough you are, your first guests are your first real test. Things come up. Things break. Things reveal themselves in ways they never did when it was just you in the space.

Flexibility is part of the job. You have to roll with it, pivot fast, and stay calm enough to troubleshoot without unraveling. It is a crash course in letting go of perfection and learning to laugh when it all leaks out from under the sink.

4. Trust Yourself (And Your Local Team)

We were nervous hosting for the first time from so far away, especially with a property that wasn't perfect. But we also knew: We’re good at problem-solving. We care about the guest experience. And we’re committed.

That turned out to matter more than anything else.

Our number one priority—then and now—is to always do right by our guests. It doesn't mean things go perfectly or we nail it 100% of the time, but we show up fully (even remotely) and have faith that that's enough.

We understand that guests are trusting us with their vacation and we don’t take that lightly. We want them to walk in, exhale, and feel like they've landed somewhere thoughtful. Somewhere that makes their Yellowstone adventure even better.

That deep care can make things harder. We get frustrated when even small things go wrong. But caring is also what carries us and keeps us moving, learning, and grounded when things get tricky.

And it’s why having a solid local team matters. You can’t do everything yourself—especially from a thousand miles away—but with the right people in your corner, you don’t have to. You just need to stay committed, stay present, and keep putting the guest experience at the center of the decisions you make.

5. Automation Goes A Long Way When You’re Far Away

The house had zero smart features when we bought it. No temperature control. No leak sensors. No Wi-Fi-connected-anything. And normally, that suits us fine. We don’t have any smart features in our primary home in Texas.

But a 1930s cabin in Montana winters, while under renovation, from 1,200 miles away? That required some reconsideration.

We installed:

Ring cameras on the front and back ($199 each)
A basement camera (no guest access) pointed at the water heater and foundation wall ($99)
Temperature and humidity sensor for the basement ($50)
A smart lock with keypad entry for guests and vendors ($300 each)

Total tech investment: ~$950

This minimal automation gives us peace of mind without overcomplicating things.

What’s Next?

Running a renovation and short-term rental from two states away is a lot, but it’s also doable. We learned so much in those early weeks about hosting, systems, and remote management, and we’re better hosts because of it.

The property has come a long way since that first cold-water crisis, but we've still got plenty of projects ahead. Next up: We renovated the kitchen mid-season (yes, between bookings!), complete with bold royal blue cabinets, a few surprises, and one very dramatic before-and-after.

Stay tuned for our next post — we'll show you how we transformed a 1930s kitchen in just 9 days without missing a single guest reservation!