Dome Sweet Dome: Owner Debunks bunker talk during tour of Vegas earth-sheltered house
By John Kelly
RJNewHomes.vegas
Stephen Krebs is a very grounded retired Defense Department employee.
And for someone who spent 40 years in the rarefied air of the Pentagon pressure cooker, he's down to earth but in perpetual motion like a satellite around his new $1.2 million dream home.
He doesn't have rocks in his head from the highly classified stress, but he does now live with 150 tons of rocks above his head every day and night.
And though Krebs says he doesn't have a bunker mentality — with what he knows, who could blame him? — he does have a recently completed "bunker" home on Grand Teton Drive in far-north Las Vegas courtesy of local builder Joe Whatley and TNM Construction.
Whatley and Krebs call it "earth sheltered," but others, including contractors, refer to it as "the bunker." By any name, it was a monumental construction effort that began as an idea in Krebs' planner's mind 30 years ago. And, hey, wherever a man puts his debrief case is his home, right?
Krebs said he explored building a completely underground home, but codes requiring a set amount of sunlight scuttled that idea.
So, if not planned as an apocalypse abode, doom dome or end-time escape, why the scorched-earth makeover of a nondescript acre lot in Las Vegas?
While Krebs searches for a plausible answer, here's a look at what went into that bunker, aka, earth-sheltered home: 506 cubic yards of Colvin concrete, which would cover approximately a football field at 3 inches thick; 47,360 linear feet of rebar, which would extend nine miles; 2,107 tons of imported and screened dirt courtesy of Alpha Landscapes to bury the house; the aforementioned 150 tons of three-quarter rock; 15 tons of compacted decomposed granite for pathways; and a total of 4.5 million pounds of dirt and granite for the entire project.
Now, you were saying, Mr. Krebs?
"Well, if you go online and look at a lot of stuff, this guy in Texas lists seven reasons why it's to your advantage to build it," Krebs said. "The insulation leads to reduced utilities; your insurance bills are going to be less because concrete isn't going to burn very well; you don't have to worry about wind, hail, tornadoes, if you had tornadoes here; you have the privacy issues; and because it is a closed house, air circulated within the house doesn't have the dirt and pollens and stuff coming in through windows and doors and those areas, so the dust level isn't an issue. People who have problems with allergies and things from molds and everything find that this type of house is better.
"If you look at one thing, then it isn't enough to justify the cost, but with the whole basket of issues, it now becomes justifiable."
When it was pointed out that the dome home looks like a lunar-landing site from the street, Krebs quickly noted: "I spent a lot of money on that aesthetic on the outside."
That fact can't be denied. Alpha's mix of young native plants, flowers and, of course, sage bush will fill in nicely across the surface of the dome with time and should show splendidly from the road.
"You don't want a lot of people looking in your front window," Krebs said. "I know it is (the norm). I just wanted something a little different, but I didn't want it to be too extreme. But this blends nicely with the surrounding area around here. I should say fairly well given how weird it is."
His words, not mine.
However, Krebs made no apologies for the privacy design, with the front and sides constructed like an earthen igloo and the back a concrete and stone-walled walkout with pavers aplenty. It looks like a collaborative effort between Ray Bradbury and J.R.R. Tolkien.
"We have the experience now on this type of construction, and our hope is that our customer is happy and gets the performance expected from the design," Whatley said. "Earth-sheltered homes have been around for years. With building codes and current site build restrictions, they still are a unique home. They are a very complex build."
Fate brought Krebs and Whatley together for the project. Krebs needed a real estate agent in Las Vegas to find the land for the build. Later, he shared his vision of an earth-sheltered house. Then, the size of the needed lot changed from a half-acre to an acre.
"TNM Construction has built many different homes and wanted to take on the challenge," Whatley said. "No other builder I know of had done such an exciting idea. We were excited and nervous. We could have built a traditional home for much less, but this is what our customer wanted."
The paver-stone driveway is a Whatley signature touch, and the wide and sturdy front doors are still not near Fort Knox-approved. The large windows are rated much higher than necessary for insulation, but they aren't bulletproof. Which reminds: What about those who will assume Krebs has a cache of arms hidden in there somewhere?
"The most dangerous thing I have is a hammer and a crowbar out in the garage. That's the extent of it."
As unique as the outside is, the interior of the home is an amazing yet fairly normal 3,600-square-foot space. While not lacking in size, obviously, the generous openness and flow from entry to main room back to kitchen is like a well-appointed command center with the library, master (jetted tub and temperature-controlled shower) and two compact bedrooms tucked nicely away for privacy and to lessen ambient noise. Krebs was very meticulous in choosing the paint, tile, granite and cabinets (a beautiful style in light gray-blue), etc. He blamed his engineering background for his meticulousness.
It took Krebs and TNM 16 months to complete the build. It was four months over deadline, but neither client nor builder is complaining.
"Getting all the trade partners to understand the concept of what we were trying to achieve for the customer was the most difficult part," Whatley said. "Many of the design elements had not been done here locally, and (getting) them to understand the complexity of the components and how they each interact with each other was difficult. Since we worked closely with the customer, we had to make changes along the way."
With the build complete, Krebs flits busily and excitedly around his new compound like many other retirees.
And unlike a dug-in doomsdayer, he opens his door to curious neighbors and a stream of cultish "Domers."
"Any time of the day, I can go out there and find people or somebody out in their parked car along the street taking pictures of this house," Krebs said. "People stop by, knock on the door and say: 'We watched this house go up; can we come in and look around?' "