I couldn't argue with her completely. The possibility was amusing: a board member who insisted that I follow her property rules might not know where her own property's boundary lay. But amusement wasn't evidence, and it wasn't a substitute for permission. The city's ownership of a strip didn't automatically erase municipal ordinances or public-use restrictions, and I wasn't going to turn a private dispute into a legitimate safety complaint by ignoring that distinction.
The next morning I called the city property office. A patient employee confirmed the parcel numbers and directed me to the recorded documents and the department that managed the drainage corridor. I asked whether the publicly accessible grassy shoulder was ordinarily open for casual, temporary use, provided no one blocked access, disturbed the drainage system, or placed permanent structures there. She said the city had specific restrictions for the corridor and offered to connect me with the appropriate staff member rather than guessing.
I appreciated that answer. It was a better answer than Linda had given me all month. The next employee explained that the portion beside the entrance was a maintained municipal strip, not private association land, but that it had to remain unobstructed for drainage and maintenance. Temporary, nonexclusive use could be acceptable if it complied with applicable restrictions; an installation, excavation, or activity that created a hazard would not be. I asked for the relevant written guidance and received a link to the city's materials.
Then I called the fire department. I explained the property layout, the type of grill, the size of the cylinder, the nearest multi-family building, and the fact that I wanted to cook food for two people rather than host an event. The person who answered listened silently for a few moments.
"You're asking whether you can cook two hamburgers?" he said eventually.
"I'm asking whether a small propane grill in that location would violate the restrictions you enforce."
"Is this for a public event?"
"No."
"Commercial food service?"
"Definitely not. My fiancee says the burgers are good, but I don't think I've built a business model around them."
He laughed. "You having trouble with an HOA?"
"Possibly."
"All right. Let's make sure we're talking about the same location and appliance."
He walked through the applicable conditions without pretending to issue a blanket approval. We discussed clearance from structures, combustible materials, cylinder storage, safe operation, and the requirement not to obstruct public access or the drainage corridor. He made clear that any use remained subject to applicable city rules and the actual circumstances on the ground. I told him I wasn't asking him to settle an HOA argument. I wanted to avoid a fire-code problem.
"That's the right way to approach it," he replied. "Most calls we get happen after somebody has already done the thing."
"Would you be able to email me the published guidance we discussed?"
There was a pause. "You're going to print it, aren't you?"
"Probably."
"Let me guess. In a binder."
"Maybe."
He laughed again and sent the material later that day. It wasn't a legal ruling or a personal permit to do anything I pleased, and I treated it accordingly. It was written guidance I could compare with the property information and the physical site. If those pieces didn't fit together, the grill would stay in storage.