Puzzle Pieces

Chapter Three

Once we moved to the wilderness we did not look back longing for the modern lifestyle we had just come from. The challenges we faced energized us. Imagine putting a difficult puzzle together; it can be challenging at times and rewarding at other times. How often have you looked for a missing puzzle piece and right when you have almost given up, the missing piece is found. You are then rewarded by tapping the coveted piece into its place with a satisfying air. So it was with our new challenges in the wilderness. Many new puzzle pieces were scattered all over and would have to be found and put in place. The trouble was that we did not have a box with a picture on it to look at so as to know how our puzzle would look in the end. Instead our search for the missing pieces became highly intriguing and rewarding as we pieced our mystery puzzle together. There were some difficult lessons that we had to learn in the process too. Our  beginning weeks, months, and years in the wilderness were filled with many of those puzzling lessons. But in the end, the pieces would came together to make a most interesting scene.

                                   

                                      

Puzzle piece number one: Learning not to turn on the lights at night. Every time the light switch was flipped we were immediately reminded that our life, off the grid, had just begun, for no lights came on to reward our action. I had never stopped to analyze where the power in that little switch came from before. From my babyhood the switch always gave me what I wanted, when I wanted it; I never gave it a second thought. Now I began to realize the significance of that ready power. I must learn to live without it. Soon lighting the kerosene lamps at night became the nightly ritual. We learned how to trim the wicks to get the best light. Each week it became my job, and eventually our children's job, to clean the chimneys to the kerosene lamps. It didn't take long and that old habit of flipping the switch ceased and the soft glow of the kerosene lamps set the stage for rest in the evenings.

I was never one to love the roar of a motor. Learning to start the generator was almost as scary as a wildcat scream in the forest. When the starter button was pushed the generator seemed to burst into an angry sounding beast. At first it scared me spit-less. I had to overcome my fear of engines, and soon starting the generator was as easy as starting the car.

We had no refrigeration when we first moved to Border Mountain; at least not a refrigerator that we had been used to. An Igloo was our refrigerator while we lived in the trailer. In the summertime Randy brought ice home every few days to keep our “Igloofridge” cool. In the winter there was no need for ice since the colder weather and snow would keep things pretty cold and sometimes freeze them. Living without a refrigerator for a time was an inconvenience in that I had to go outside to get my refrigerated items; but it worked and we were no worse for the wear.  When we moved into the cabin we obtained a propane refrigerator.  Maybe I had to have an "Igloofridge" before I could appreciate a propane refrigerator. 

The outhouse was another piece to our scene. Outhouses, in my mind, were only found in places like state parks or the Ozark's, but never for my daily use. Here I was, neither in the Ozarks or a State park, and yet, for a time, the outhouse would be part of my daily routine. I chose to use the outhouse in the light of day and before nightfall. I was too afraid of the wilderness darkness at the time. One never knew what creatures could be lurking in the dark just awaiting to pounce on one sitting in a vulnerable position. Fortunately, Randy got busy and dug the septic lines soon after our move and we didn't have to use the outhouse for long. To relieve the readers fear, we never did have a wild beast come out of the woods and attack. 

 Outhouse with a view

Ah! and then there was the fresh mountain spring water. Never had I tasted such sweet water. We called it “Idaho tea”. The water was captured from a spring 4000 feet above our home. Randy and our friend, Jim Johnson, ran polypipe and covered it lightly with dirt all the way from the spring to our holding tank and then to our house. Never did we have to experience warm water from the tap. It was always cold and fresh tasting with no added chemicals. The water was so soft that we never had trouble with mineral stains or crusted faucets from hard mineral salts. Our guests were always delighted when drinking a glass of our spring water. Suffice it to say that we had the best tasting water in the whole state of Idaho and beyond.

Learning to live without a dyer had to be dealt with too.  In the summer, drying clothes was made easy by hanging the clothes outside to dry on the line. I learned to love the smell of clean clothes fresh off the line. But when winter came, and hanging the clothes outside on the line ceased, I had to find other creative ways to dry my clothes. Before we had moved to the wilderness I had noted how one of my friends dried her clothes in the winter. She hung up her clothes in her living room near the stove so as to dry them quicker. Hanging in her living room,,for all to see, were her husbands trousers, shirts, socks, her stockings and their underwear! When I had taken note of this my thoughts were “That looks so tacky and tasteless, I will NEVER hang our clothes in my living room!” Alas our trailer was only 60 feet long by 20 feet wide. There was not a spare room any place to hang my clothes. I now faced not only hanging our clothes in our living room but over our bed as well, for our bedroom was part of the living room. For a time, Randy's slacks, shirts, socks, my stockings and clothing and the children's clothing and yes, our underwear, dangled in our faces at night when we went to sleep.  Certainly living in the wilderness had its quirky way of humbling my proud heart. 

Becoming skilled at driving our Land Cruiser, "L.C.", was another puzzle to piece together. Our wonderful Nisan Maxima had to be sold. She did not like the three mile wild drive to our house. At first we had to leave her parked out on the highway when Randy drove to work. When he came home he would leave the Maxima out at the beginning of the road and drive the Land Cruiser home. Soon we realized “Maxi” would have to go. I was now forced to learn how to drive "L.C." since we had no other car at the time. Dave Reid had tried to encourage me to learn to drive her  before I moved to the wilderness. He kept saying “Heidi, You must learn to drive this vehicle before you move.” But I had been babied by the Maxima who could talk to me. She told me if my blinker was left on or my door was ajar. She also had automatic power steering. I didn't have to think twice about driving her. Now I had to face how to drive with a stick shift on the column and a clutch. I had put off learning to drive her far too long and now it was a necessity. A friendship must be started with "L.C." whether I liked it or not. Randy was my patient teacher. I am sure he got jerked around a lot as he sought to retrain my driving skills. 

"L.C."

 "L.C." had no air conditioning; at least not as I had known air conditioning. She had screened vents on either side of the front dashboards; when opened, they allowed the fresh air to circulate in the old Land Cruiser while driving. We soon discovered that when bumping down a dusty road that one must make sure all vents were closed or dust would be your “make up” for that day.  Soon "L.C." fit right into all the other puzzle pieces being assembled. She was a good work horse for us too. To withstand our rugged road we eventually added a four wheel drive pick up truck, Suburban, dump truck, farm tractor and John Deer Dozer with a  backhoe to our repertoire of vehicles. 

Farm Tractor

Dozer

Suburban (A must during "break up" season)

Since we had always lived in close proximity to town I never had to experience a “town day” before. But now town was almost an hour away. I could not just go to the store to pick up a bottle of vanilla or drop in to visit a friend when I wanted. I had to learn to combine my travel to one day a week. I had to plan this excursion so as not to miss the places I needed to get to in that day.  My trips were combined  in one big “town day”. This piece of the puzzle was money saving  as well; I had to think about what I needed ahead of time, which cut down on frivolous trips to town and impulse buying. My “town day” might have looked like this: A stop at the Pink Lion to pick up some material and thread, to Bargain Giant for groceries,  the beauty shop for a hair cut, J.C. Penney's for clothing for the kids, and a treat would be to stop by the Army Surplus; a favorite with the children. Once every two or three months we would make the big trek to the big town of Spokane, Washington to get our much needed bulk supplies that we could not get in the small town of Bonners Ferry. But, whenever we returned home, no matter where we had been, on our minds were the thoughts "be it ever so humble there is no place like home" as we entered our wilderness domain.

"Wood getting" became a favorite pastime for the whole family.  Randy always scanned the woods for dead pine trees on his way to and from work.   It seemed to be his favorite thing to do, for he was continually looking for those snags.  Sunday's we would don our "wood getting" work clothes and kids in the back of the truck we headed out  to the place where the dead tree had been spotted. "Buzz, buzz buzz!” the chain saw would make its noisy harsh voice heard in the forest.  With the precision of a surgeon, Randy made the necessary cuts into the trunk of the tree. The most fun, and the grand finale was when all would holler “TIMBER!” and with a loud crack! down she'd come with a crash that shook the earth. The branches were then cut off and the fallen tree “bucked up” (cut into logs). We'd all help by throwing the logs into the back of the truck.  All the kids would pile back into the truck, but this time on top of all the wood.  They would have a grand time singing, laughing  and talking while we traveled back to the house.  Home again, the wood would be dumped and stacked near the house for winter use and all would be rewarded with a yummy lunch of "Hay Stacks".  "Wood getting" was a “must” for our summer/fall days. A wood stove was the norm for heating our house in the wintertime and a good supply of wood was necessary to keep the house and hearts warm in the cold, cold winter months. 

 The cozy cabin

The quietness proved to be an easy thing to get used too. We had been accustomed to retiring at night to the sound of some form of man-made sound such as the humming of the refrigerator, cars driving by, the electric clock ticking on the wall, or the telephone ring. Our first night at Border Mountain we heard nothing but nature sounds. Eventually we got so used to the quiet sounds of night time in the woods that when we traveled away from our wilderness home the unnatural man-made sounds kept us awake at nights. 

Shortly after we had moved to the wilderness, my mother and father-in-law (Mary and Ken Young) came to visit. They were both sitting out on the edge of our field enjoying the sites and sounds of nature when Mary suddenly blurted out “I hear a car”. Ken replied “So!” She said “Ken, you don't understand, I hear  just ONE car”. They lived in Vallejo, California and  were so used to hearing a constant stream of traffic that they could not distinguish one car from another. But at Border Mountain, one car bumping up the road to our house could be heard a mile away. Certainly the silence of the worldly incessant noise was a blessing to our ears, hearts and minds and to all who came to visit us.

Communication devices were greatly lacking at Border Mountain. Radio barely reached our valley and television was not even remotely possible; which truly was a blessing. But to bring in phone lines would have cost approximately $6500; a big chunk of money in that day. Instead, over a year we had no communication via the phone lines. The lack of ready communication was a difficult one for me to grapple with. The telephone was my way of staying connected with friends and family. Soon letter writing and calling on Randy's office phone during  "town day" became the norm for staying in touch with the outside world. Living without these communication devices helped us to focus more on our family and on our personal relationship with our Lord. Reading became the entertainment in the morning and evenings for our entire family. Eventually we would add a radio phone and then a converted mobile phone patched into our neighbors phone line three miles away. But for a time I learned to live without.

Reading became a favorite evening pastime.

"Nature Vision" was our entertainment for us; the "Wild Kingdom" of Border Mountain. I still remember vividly our first Sabbath. We heard a pounding, snorting sound coming from outside the trailer. We looked out of our windows to witness a moose thundering down the field toward two deer that were quietly grazing at the farthest end of the field. We were so frightened for those deer and were certain the moose would hit them with his powerful antlers and tear them to pieces. We could barely watch the scene unfolding before our eyes knowing the inevitable outcome. I wasn't sure this "Nature Vision" was child friendly as we stood with rapt attention. 

The deer did not move a muscle as the moose continued on his murderous rampage. Were they terrified too? They seemed to be ready for an untimely death. But the moose stopped abruptly about ten feet away from the deer. He lowered his head and pranced around trying to scare the poor creatures. They barely looked up to note his presence; they just kept on grazing. He ranted and raved a bit and then thundered back up the field to where he came from, snorting and swaying his head this way and that way. I am sure he was thinking “How can I get those intruding deer out of my territory?” He turned on his hooves and pounded back down the field again toward the grazing deer; same reaction from the undeterred reaction from the deer. However, we did note  that the deer seemed to move a few feet away when the moose wasn't looking. Finally the moose, tiring of his game, gave up his bullying and sauntered off into the woods. We were much relieved that our "Nature Vision" did not become a violent rated scene that Sabbath morning. This experience with the moose, was to mark the beginning of “Mooseville and their neighbors". Often we would see in our “Nature Vision” moose and other wild creatures such as bear, coyote's, caribou, elk, beaver, lynx, cougar, squirrel, pack rat and the ever present mouse pest. These animals became a part of our daily lives; or was it that we became a part of theirs?

A young moose

Have you ever wished to go to a private place where you can walk and talk with God, alone?  Have you ever wished that you could tell Him all your troubles, desires, and sing songs of praises  to Him out loud?  The wilderness was the perfect setting for this kind of walk.  Besides God, only the animals could hear the voice of one speaking outloud in the woods.  This became a part of our devotional life; walking with God in the forest.  There were times that I could enter my walk in the woods with a troubled heart, but I always returned home with my burdens lifted.  This was the primary purpose for moving to the wilderness; to experience a closer walk with God. 

All of these puzzle pieces and more came together for us at Border Mountain. The loud clamor of the world and its demands could not reach us with its tentacles in the wilderness; its incessant demands were silenced. Gone were the constant man-made sounds. Quietness and peace took their place. Our puzzle was slowly being assembled. The challenges, the joys, the peace and the hard work and yes, even the "Igloofridge" all made up a most interesting scene.