Free land? What's the catch?

As a Long Island homeowner fed up with my high taxes and postage-stamp-size lot, I’m thinking of taking the city of Anderson, Alaska (population 820), up on its offer of free land.
An ordinance passed by that fair city provides anyone above age 18 with a $500 deposit the right to claim 1.3 acres of pristine frontier land in the Northern Lights subdivision. In exchange, the buyer must build an occupied single-family house within two years. The land grab began on Monday, so get online now.
There are drawbacks, of course, not least of which is that the deal is only valid in Anderson, Alaska. Google Maps, God bless it, depicted it as a sheet of roadless white; the alternate satellite view gave hints that there might be civilization, but going in for a closer look gets you, “We are sorry, but we don’t have imagery at this zoom level for this region. Try zooming out for a broader look.” Zoomed out, Anderson just looks green and gray.
The city’s Web site describes it as “located in Interior Alaska, about 55 air miles (76 driving miles) southwest of Fairbanks. The six-mile access road runs west from the George Park’s Highway at Mile Post 283.5.
“Climate: Anderson has a cold continental climate with maritime influences in the summer. Temperatures range from 60 degrees below to 90 degrees above. Average annual precipitation is 12.7 inches, with annual snowfall of 49.3 inches.
“History: The settlement began in 1962 with the construction of the Ballistic Missile Early Warning System (BMEWS) at Clear Air Force Station. The developed portion of the city, less than a one-half square mile area, lies six miles north of the Clear Air Force Station. About 600 people live in our city and on Clear AFB, with another 1,500 to 2,000 spread on the George Park’s Highway from the town of Nenana, 26 miles north to Healy, 40 miles south.”
South of Healy is Cantwell. According to the Internet, “In the winter Cantwell becomes a fantasyland for snowmachiners and ice fisherman alike. The wide-open tundra covered with deep snow makes this a winter playground.” There were no mentions of the region's golf options. But while Anderson is 55 air miles from Fairbanks, it’s only about 40 from Denali National Park, which is larger than New Jersey and considerably nicer.
Of course, anyone that close to something called the BMEWS should probably read up on the nation’s DEFCON level at all times, since North Korea and whoever controls the Soviets’ old nukes almost certainly has Anderson circled on its maps somewhere.
Reading over the ordinance creating the land grab, the Anderson City Council tried to think of everything: no multiple-family dwellings without a variance, commercial and industrial uses prohibited, no further subdivisions, no utility rebates. This clause is cute: “The City Council may require such information from time to time as it deems appropriate, including but not limited to, plans for the house to be constructed.”
But are they really ready for us Lower 48 types? Nowhere on the Web site is there evidence of a zoning board. Nowhere, in fact, is there evidence of zoning codes at all. The city lies within the Borough of Denali, which does have a planning commission, an extensive code of ordinances and, presumably, the mechanism to enforce them.
But the Denali borough government is responsible for 1,893 residents spread out over 12,000 square miles. How can it possibly keep an eye on each of them? It’s a developer’s dream. Certainly it’s a Long Island developer’s dream. Imagine: More than an acre of free land to do with as you choose in a part of the country where lumber is plentiful.
Sure, the developer would have to dig deep to provide an Alaskan home the type of amenities we Long Island home buyers demand: marble countertops, waterfall Jacuzzis that don’t freeze when it hits minus 60, fiber-optic Internet (to reach, say, Vancouver), a gated, circular, brick-paver driveway with an intercom, Doric columns and hand-crafted roof tiles. Plus at least two chimneys, two satellite dishes and a four-car garage.
But now the developer has room to build the seven-bedroom home we Long Islanders need for our three children. And there’s still room for 300 square feet of open space, to be done, of course, in blond gravel and banana trees.
All in a state with no income tax, where the average per capita property tax is $1,163 and where a fourth of the municipalities collect no property tax at all.
Heating such a home through an Alaskan winter will be expensive, but imagine the warmth generated by the neighbors when we expats inevitably spend a weekend in Anchorage, away from our unsupervised teenagers, our unlocked liquor cabinet . . . and 200 of the kids’ closest friends.