The Two Michigan Laws Already Attached to That Leelanau County Vineyard-View Parcel

Picture the showing. A ridge above the vine rows outside Suttons Bay, Grand Traverse Bay catching the light below, a for-sale sign staked at the edge of what used to be someone's working orchard. The buyer is already picturing a house on that ridge. What they are not picturing is the paperwork that came with the dirt.

A Leelanau County orchard grower wrote about this exact disconnect in the Leelanau News this past June, describing what a working farm actually deals with during spray season: cars stopped in the rows at night while crews are out treating the trees, coolers loaded with cherries that were never for sale. The piece was a plea to treat orchards as a workplace, not scenery. It is also, without meaning to be, a pretty good explanation of why buying land near one of these operations is not the same transaction as buying a lot in a subdivision.

Two Michigan statutes sit on top of a lot of Leelanau County's most photogenic acreage, and neither shows up in a listing photo. One decides what your new neighbor can legally do next to your house. The other can attach a real dollar figure to a parcel the moment it stops being farmland. Most buyers find out about both after they have already fallen for the view.

The Farm Next Door Cannot Be Sued for Being a Farm

Michigan's Right to Farm Act, on the books since 1981, protects a working farm from nuisance lawsuits over the ordinary business of farming: the noise, the dust, the odor, the equipment running at odd hours. As long as an operation follows the state's Generally Accepted Agricultural and Management Practices, reviewed annually by the Michigan Commission of Agriculture and Rural Development, it cannot be found a public or private nuisance no matter how new the neighbor is or how surprised that neighbor might be.

The protection runs two ways. A farm that existed before a change in land use within a mile of its boundary is protected against a nuisance claim from whatever showed up later, so long as the farm would not have been a nuisance before that change happened. And since a 2000 amendment, the Act preempts local ordinances that try to add restrictions on top of it, which means a township cannot simply pass a rule requiring quieter spray equipment or earlier cutoff hours if that rule conflicts with the state standard.

There is a sharper edge here for anyone thinking about litigation as a backup plan. If a property owner sues a farm operation over noise or spray drift and the farm wins, Michigan law lets the farm recover its legal costs and attorney fees from the person who sued. Losing a nuisance case against an established orchard or vineyard is not a wash. It can be an expensive one.

Michigan law does give sellers a tool here, a voluntary disclosure statement a seller can provide when a property sits within one mile of a farm operation, noting that the practices next door are protected under the Right to Farm Act. It is not mandatory in every transaction, which means the absence of that disclosure on a listing does not mean there is no farm nearby. Anyone touring acreage in Leelanau County's wine and cherry corridor should ask the question directly rather than wait for a form to answer it.

The Land Itself Might Still Owe the State Money

The second statute is less about a neighbor and more about the parcel's own history. Michigan's Farmland and Open Space Preservation Program, generally known by its old designation, PA 116, lets a landowner enroll farmland in a development rights agreement with the state for a term of 10 to 90 years. In exchange for keeping the land in agricultural use and giving up the right to build anything beyond what the farm operation requires, the owner receives an income tax credit and an exemption from certain special assessments.

Here is the part that catches buyers off guard. When land comes out of a PA 116 agreement early, whether it is a partial release or a full termination, the law requires repayment of the tax credits taken during the agreement's final seven years, plus 6 percent simple interest. That repayment becomes a lien recorded against the property. Even letting an agreement lapse at the end of its term triggers the same seven-year clawback under state law. The relief that made the land cheaper to hold for a decade or three does not disappear quietly. It comes due, with interest, the moment the land changes purpose.

This is not a hypothetical for Leelanau County right now. Some of the acreage currently on the market is explicitly being carved out of larger historic farms, tracts described as pieces of a 150-acre estate split into smaller buildable parcels. A parcel like that may be entirely clear of any PA 116 restriction, or it may still be wrapped in one, in whole or in part. The purchase agreement needs to say which, in writing, before anyone is comfortable closing.

There are only a few ways to exit a PA 116 agreement before its term ends, and they are worth knowing in outline:

Release path What it requires
Death or disability Application within three years; prorated repayment, no interest
Small existing structure Up to two acres carved out for a structure that predates the agreement
Essential-worker residence Up to two acres released to house someone essential to the farm operation
Full or partial termination Seven years of credits repaid plus 6 percent interest, recorded as a lien

A landowner can sell enrolled property without terminating the agreement, but the land has to stay under one ownership unless the agreement is formally split into pieces that match the new legal descriptions. That splitting has to happen with the state, not just at the closing table.

If you are evaluating a listing that includes any acreage beyond a standard house lot, ask your agent or attorney a direct question before you write an offer: is any part of this parcel currently enrolled in a PA 116 agreement, and if so, who is responsible for the repayment lien if it is released at or before closing? That single question resolves a cost that otherwise surfaces during title work, at the point where renegotiating is hardest.

Why This Got More Complicated in December

The two statutes above are not new. What changed recently is how they interact with a third layer that is common in this county specifically. The Leelanau Conservancy has protected more than 100 farms through purchase of development rights, a permanent conservation easement that pays a farmer the difference between what land is worth as farmland and what it is worth as residential ground, in exchange for a restriction that runs with the deed forever. It is a different instrument than PA 116, and for years the two were treated as compatible: a farm could carry a permanent local easement and still be enrolled in the state's PA 116 program for the tax credit.

In 2025, Michigan's Department of Treasury took a closer look at that pairing and found a problem. Where a landowner had entered a permanent local easement without the state as a co-owner, the state had, in effect, been issuing tax credits for a right it had no ability to enforce. Treasury paused credits for a few dozen affected landowners while the issue got sorted out, which meant delayed returns and, in some cases, surprise back-tax assessments for farmers who had done nothing wrong beyond stacking two preservation tools the state itself had allowed.

The Michigan Senate introduced a seven-bill package in October 2025 to fix it, passed it unanimously, and Governor Whitmer signed it into law on December 23, 2025, with immediate effect. The fix grandfathers in past credits, lets landowners shave up to an acre off an agreement to correct boundary lines, and gives MDARD a clean way to release PA 116 agreements where they overlap a permanent conservation easement. It is a good outcome for farmers who got caught in the reinterpretation. It is also a reminder that a parcel's paper trail in this county can run through two or three different programs at once, each with its own rules for what happens when the land's use changes.

For a buyer, the practical takeaway is simple. If the acreage you are looking at borders conserved farmland, or was ever part of a larger farm that used a conservation easement, ask whether a PA 116 agreement sits alongside it and whether that agreement has been affected by the state's 2025 review. It is a fair question to put to a seller's agent, and it is one most buyers would not think to ask on their own.

What the Discount Is Actually Pricing In

Land that is still enrolled in PA 116, or that sits inside a working farm's Right to Farm protection zone, often looks less expensive than comparable acreage without those attachments. That gap is not a bonus. It is the market pricing in the cost of eventually resolving the restriction, whether that means the seven-year clawback on release or simply accepting that the neighbor's operation cannot be regulated away. Buyers who skip the question of what is attached to the parcel are not getting a better deal than everyone else. They are agreeing to a cost that has just been deferred to closing, or past it.

A Few Questions We Hear Often

Does the Right to Farm Act mean I have no recourse at all if a neighboring farm operation genuinely changes for the worse? The Act protects practices that conform to the state's Generally Accepted Agricultural and Management Practices. An operation that expands in a way that no longer conforms, or that predates a change in land use in a way that would have been a nuisance from the start, is not automatically shielded. The threshold is specific, and it is worth having a conversation with an attorney before assuming either way.

If I buy land enrolled in PA 116, does the tax credit repayment automatically become my responsibility? The statute puts the lien on the property, but who pays it at closing is a matter for the purchase agreement, not something Michigan law assigns by default. This needs to be negotiated and put in writing before closing, not assumed.

How do I find out if a specific parcel carries a PA 116 agreement? MDARD maintains the agreements, and a title search or a direct inquiry to MDARD's Farmland and Open Space Preservation Program will confirm whether a specific legal description is currently enrolled.

None of this is a reason to walk away from Leelanau County's fruit belt. It is a reason to ask a few more questions before you fall in love with the view. If you are weighing a parcel in this part of the county and want a second set of eyes on what is actually attached to it, reach out to Molly Buttleman. Inquire now, before the offer, not after.

Meet Molly Buttleman

Top Level Luxury Agent

Molly is Michigan native and has called the Grand Traverse and Leelanau County region home for more than 30 years. Understanding the demands of today's buyers and sellers has allowed her to be a top producing agent when it comes to Antrim, Grand Traverse, and Leelanau County real estate year after year. As a relationship building person, she enjoys developing loyal friends and customers. As a Real Estate Professional, she builds those same lasting relationships with both Buyers and Sellers. Service is Molly's top priority.

Meet Molly Buttleman

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Molly is known for listening and problem-solving, often putting her own real-life buying, selling, and renovating experience to use for her clients. Her construction industry connections also give her clients an extra sense of trust, especially if they are looking to add value to a property with a remodel.

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