Breathe…
sometimes you just have to get away.
A little over a week ago, Katie and I made a last second decision to bolt for the tranquility of Rustic Pines one Saturday evening. The trip offered a needed break from our schedule, as well as the quiet contemplation required for absolutely crazy ideas to be formed and put into motion.
We were sitting at a wedding reception for the daughter of a great friend Saturday before last. Fun conversation, good food, open bar, the kind of evening you can look forward to from time to time. The DJ was playing music over the din of laughter and jovial conversation. The venue was beautiful. A large open ballroom with high vaulted ceilings supported by enormous timber and black iron. My compliments to the architects. A great crowd had assembled to celebrate the marriage of two people with their entire lives ahead of them. The father of the bride celebrated his daughter by paying homage to the efforts of the mother of the bride, our good friend Peg. I was proud for her in that moment. The father of the groom gave a toast as well, a rather touching one, in which he noted all the ways in which he observed his son demonstrate true love. My hope for these newlyweds, is that they find a rich lasting love to see them through the rest of their lives. Cheers and prosperity to them both!
After dinner, just before the dancing started, I found myself heading for the restroom (there was an open bar after all). When I stood at the sink to wash, taking in the reflection in the mirror, I noticed something…. not my dapper image in a suit – I’m very modest, just ask me (yes that was sarcasm). It wasn’t “something” I noticed, but rather the lack of something… it was almost silent. That silence was all I needed to hear. I exited the room, where I met Katie just outside the ballroom doors.
I took one look at my bride in her stunning dress and promptly said “What do you think of saying good bye, heading home, packing the truck, grabbing the dog, and heading up north right now?” Her response was short, to the point, and said with a smile – “Let’s go!”
So we did just that, and arrived at Rustic Pines shortly after midnight. A fire was lit, a bed was made up, eyes were closed, and soon we were greeted by the morning light. At home, on the weekends, even with no plans for the day, we’re often up by 5:30-6:00 AM. Up at the land, time doesn’t exist. I did however wake by 7:30 and exited the bed without waking Katie. I made some coffee and sat by the fire, listening to the wind blow through the trees.
It’s in these quiet hours, with nothing to do other than reflect on life and think of things to come, that you really do get a sense that things are too complicated. Too many distractions pulling us in each and every direction, not offering a moments rest. Life has been crazy for us. Katie was recently given a promotion at work, and with it, the stresses of taking on the added responsibilities. I’ve had occupational changes as well, working two jobs, one of which has been surprisingly stressful. Time seems to fly by at an alarming rate, each day seeming as though a second has passed and then it’s over. Everything combines into some chaotic rumble that forces you to cover your ears and scream “Stop!” Katie and I have found an exercise that seems to stave off the madness – breathe. Breathing, the kind we can do up north. We have a place where we are free from the phones, radio, TV, internet, and other distractions that pull us apart at the seams. At Rustic Pines we can breathe.
After Katie awoke and had her coffee, we took a walk, made some breakfast, and then Katie laid down for a nap with the dog. I sat for a while, contemplated our plans, and took another nice walk through the woods. You’d hardly recognize our surroundings from just two weeks ago. What once were fiery globes of red, orange, and yellow, are now just trees with bare branches sending a message to all within view; winter is coming. The trails are covered with the sorrowful cast offs of summer, and the wind sounds eerily different. Even with the changes, it’s still beautiful, it’s just a different kind of beauty.
While on my walk, my mind turned to power. I’ve spent a bit of time thinking about how we will provide some of the creature comforts we are accustomed to, and a plan is starting to form. Rustic Pines is off grid… about a half mile and tens of thousands of dollars off grid. Sure it’s probably more doable than I make it sound, but something excites me about providing for myself. Up to this point, I’ve focused my time on learning about solar. Cheap, readily available, and mostly consistent, usable power, providing you are not trying to run a refrigerator, shop tools, or microwave. No, solar isn’t the answer, but it’s PART of the answer. I’m trying to take a multi-pronged approach. Solar and wind can provide power to run many things that we would constantly use, like lights or the radio. For larger power consumption we would need a generator. I don’t think I’ll be running a generator constantly for keeping the food cold, but there are propane powered refrigerators that will work nicely. We’ll need a generator as a back up charger for the batteries when solar or wind isn’t cooperating, as well as running power tools and other shop equipment needed for building our forever cabin.
Generators require one thing more than constant maintenance and free flowing profanities; fuel. At near $3.00 a gallon for non-oxygenated premium, I could see myself taking a third job as a pan handler just to keep the lights on. There just has to be a better way, and I think I’ve found it. If there is one thing we have plenty of up at Rustic Pines, it’s wood. I could spend every hour of every day for years, just picking up the deadfall. Wood is a fuel right? We use it to heat our cabin, why not use it to run the generator as well? Katie was actually the one who gave me the idea when she wrote in Katie’s Blog Spot on how to make your own charcoal. Wood gasification is the process where you heat wood without allowing it to fully com-bust. This is exactly what Katie did when she made charcoal. In her experiment, the wood is placed in a steel can with a lid on it and heated in a fire. The lid has holes allowing gas and steam to escape as the wood turns to charcoal. The gas that escapes burns clean and can actually be used to power a motor. During World War II, FEMA sent plans out for anyone to use to build a gasifier in an effort to slow the consumption of regular fuels needed for the war effort. With the quiet time provided for thought, it looks as though I’ll have another winter project to tinker with.
Before I get too excited about our next project, I really aught to tend to the ones I’ve already started. Last spring, I sat down and designed a band saw mill for producing lumber to be used on the property. Katie suffered through hours of Youtube videos during my research phase, watched me sit at the computer and model parts, and generally approved when I rattled off various costs for materials and parts… now we will see her true enthusiasm for the project when she’s helping me weld up the frame in an unheated carport. That’s what I love about my wife, she’s not a sideline sort of girl… she’d rather be in the thick of it, doing her part. So far, I’ve acquired some steel, most of the rail system, and some smart looking v-groove casters for the carriage to ride on. From this point forward, tinker time will be spent measuring, cutting, welding, and assembling what I hope will be a fantastic tool that will save us time and money. We have much to learn, and that I’m sure, we will do.
After my walk, Katie got up from her nap and started a bonfire while I started construction on a log cradle to make it easier to debark the timber that’s been drying. I took a few logs and with the aid of a chainsaw and ax, began to shape them into the legs for the cradle. Not having planned this little endeavor, I found myself without the proper fasteners to rigidly fix the parts together. 
After a quick search of the disaster area that is the bed of my truck, I came up with a handful of 3/8″ lag screws that were a bit short, but might do the job with a deep enough counter bore. In no time at all, we were plowing away with the draw knife, taking turns littering the ground with freshly shaved bark. After the first log was complete, I looked for a nice big timber to give us some “progress” to brag about at the end of the day. I don’t know if it was the overwhelming force of Katie’s draw knife skills, the weight of the timber, of my crappy construction job, but before the big log was half done, my new cradle lay in pieces underneath the log. Oh well, back to the drawing board.
After the great collapse, Katie and I began our Sunday afternoon ritual of packing up and getting ready to go. It wasn’t long before our task was complete and we stood by the last vestiges of the bonfire bemoaning the fact that another work week was upon us. We put the fire out, climbed in the truck, and headed for home.