A Moving Experience (Chapter 2)

It seemed as if winter drug on for an eternity that year. Finally the snowy white coverlet began to melt away. Patches of brown earth were peaking out from under the melting blanket. As soon as the forest service road to our property was passable, Randy was on his way to visit the land we had barely been introduced to that fall.  He chose to test drive our new/used 1966 Land Cruiser; a trip to the property for the first time that spring was the perfect opportunity. Our friend (Tony LaMarsh) had found the old Land Cruiser in a farmers field just that fall. He discovered that it had been sitting out in the field untouched for nearly 10 years. Tony told Randy about the old Land Cruiser, thinking we might need it in our wilderness excursions. So he asked the farmer if we might purchase it. It was a deal. The $900.00 we spent on the Land Cruiser (Nicknamed L.C./ “Elsie”) would prove to be worth her weight in gold. Randy now bumped along the forest service road to our property, eager to see what he would find.

L.C.

He spent the day taking in the beautiful sites and sounds. The seasonal creek on the mountain was loudly proclaiming its arrival to the valley below. 

Randy laid down in the field and looked up at the blue sky above he thought of his plan. Fluffy white clouds floated slowly across the sky. An osprey was seen soaring through the sky screeching its call to the earth below. As he lay there in the field he pondered how he would accomplish the task that lay ahead of him. He made a plan in his mind of just how he could make our transition into the wilderness happen. 

The existing cabin would need major renovations before we could live in it. It was only a small tar paper shack. It had no insulation and hardly any windows. The cabin was only 16 feet by 20 feet with a small loft; a whopping 400 sq ft altogether. There was no bathroom, no kitchen, not one convenience's ever graced this structure. Much work needed to be done before we could even think of moving into the cabin with our budding family of four. Moving a mobile home onto the property would make the perfect temporary housing for our family. Arrangements would be made to haul the trailer to the property as soon as possible.

He bumped back down the forest service road in the old Land Cruiser.  L.C. made it all the way up to the property and back home without a single engine problem. She was proving her worth on that first maiden voyage. Randy came home encouraged that afternoon with his successful trip to the property and with the plans he had made. He was now eager to start our new adventure. Out of the Land Cruiser he jumped, gave L.C. a pat, and entered the house with a light step. It had been a successful day.

I was informed of his new ideas.  Now it was my turn to get excited about our new venture.  We  talked about how we would need help moving the trailer into the wilderness. It was going to be a feat impossible for the two of us to accomplish. So we invited our friends to help us with the move. We set the date and went about the task of getting the property ready to be occupied. 

First thing on our list was to clear a spot for the trailer.  Then we ran temporary water lines from the spring to the trailer site. A temporary, make-shift outhouse was built in the woods just above the trailer site. Later Randy would dig leach lines and install  a septic tank.  As it stood, the only form of bathing was an outdoor solar shower.  There is nothing quite like showering in the great outdoors. But that was not my idea of bathing!

No electricity was available to us unless we wanted to pay for it.  The electric company had told us that it would cost nearly $70,000 to put in electric lines for those three miles. That was a bit over the top for us. Instead a purchase of a Briggs and Stratton generator was secured. We were now ready for our move.  At least we thought so.  Little did we know of the changes that would need to take place in our lives to live in that wilderness setting.

Moving day had dawned bright and clear. It was a good day to move. The Nashua mobile home was now ready for its removal and trip to the property. We revved up the old, blue, Chevy, bomb of a truck and hitched up the 65 foot trailer. We slowly moved our cargo from its resting place onto the county dirt road, then out onto highway 95. Our friends Dave and Rosanna Reid were the front flagger's for our little caravan of friends that had joined us that day. Tony drove the truck hauling the trailer with Randy in the front seat. Jeff and Jodie Neumayer and I drove behind in our vehicles. The trip that normally would have taken  40 minuets took over an hour before we reached our turnoff. Once we left the highway and started up the forest service road, the real work began.

The first big challenge came when we encountered  our first corner; a 45 degree angle corner. We had to stop and stratigize on just how to make that corner with the truck and 65 foot trailer in tow. It was not just a simple corner. To complicate matters, there were large pine trees along the road with their far reaching branches that hung over the road. The brush along the side of the road was very thick at that corner as well.

Dave and Rosana drove up ahead of the truck/trailer combo and brushed out the area we would be driving through with Dave's chain saw. Some of us walked beside the trailer and watched out for any possible missed branches along the way. Someone stood on top of the trailer with chain saw in hand and cut the pine branches that hung down threatening to damage the trailer top.  We inched our way bit by bit past the 45 degree angle. After much maneuvering, we finally got past our  first hurdle and down the little hill.  

Into a little meadow-ed area we came.  One spot was so narrow that a branch ripped off the door of the trailer and gouged a hole in her side. This gouge proved to be a wonderful gateway into our walls for the field mice.  For that winter we had to deal with the scratching, squeaking, gnawing noises those tiny critters made while living in our walls. 

Up the dusty curvy road we went until we finally reached our driveway. Through the rusty old gate  and over the culvert we slowly crept the last quarter of a mile. We finally reached our destination and set the trailer down on the edge of the field where we had made ready for its arrival.

This was to mark the beginning of our wilderness journey. Who would have guessed that we would live in this setting for 13 years without electricity, no city water, no regular telephone, and no TV. We would be totally off the grid. "Could we survive?"  Many of my family members asked that question; and more than once.  It seemed to be in our genes to do the unthinkable.  To scale the heights, to see what we were made of.  It was a challenge that most would never dream of. But this was our dream and now this had become our reality. Finally, after three years, of what seemed to be endless searching, we had arrived. We felt blessed beyond belief.

Night was drawing on. All of our friends had left and made their way back down our road to their homes. We were all alone in the wilderness now. We were far from friends. Our nearest neighbor was three miles away. We cozied up in our small abode. It was quiet outside; only the sounds of nature could be heard. No cars, no trains, no airplanes, no rushing, bustling noises could be heard.  Only  the sounds of nature came to our ears. The snipes were flying through the sky making their funny diving sounds while catching their dinners. The hoot owl could be heard hooting its haunting cry in the gathering dusk. As the darkness set in, the lonely coyote could be heard echoing its yipping bark in the moonlit night.

I flipped on the light switch.  No light!  I had forgotten that we had no electricity.  I had never lived without ready power.  My habit of turning on the light switch would have to be unlearned.   The only light we had came from a Kerosene lantern.  My good friend (Diane) had given us as a house warming gift. We lit the lamp and the steady flame  sent out a warm glow to our cozy nest. Many, many nights to come we would repeat the same habit of lighting the kerosene lamps.  The soft natural light seemed to settle us down for the evening and get us ready for sleep. This would be the first of many nights in the wilderness. We blew out the lamp and as we lay down on our bed we looked out of the window with such a satisfying feeling. We thanked the Lord for this little piece of earth we were privileged to own. The stars were numberless and shining brightly. I seemed to hear the angles singing in that great expanse "hallelujah, hallelujah" as I  fell asleep that night.