Monday, September 1, 2014

Bad Neighbors, Part 4



Alan and I continued talking for another half hour, and things actually turned friendly. He mentioned that his ten-year-old son was interested in survivalism and would probably really enjoy my place. We exchanged phone numbers and I told him I would call him in a few days so that we could arrange an evening for him and his family to join me for dinner around the campfire.

To this day, I still believe that he was honest and sincere during that first meeting, and that when we shook hands and parted, he no longer considered me a threat. He still didn’t like me living there (indeed, I would find out later that it was still a sore spot), but I felt certain that the situation had been defused and that we might even become friends one day.

The next week, I called Alan a few times to try to arrange an evening for us to get together. We went back and forth, leaving each other messages and talking briefly sometimes, trying to find a good evening that fit both of our schedules. This went on for several days until it was obvious that Alan was no longer returning my calls. A bit disappointed, I stopped calling him, too. And that was the end of my contact with Alan. Over the passing months, I would see him drive by occasionally, but was never able to catch his eye with a wave.

During our conversation, I had told Alan that I would move in April when my lease expired. I had been thinking about moving anyway, and his attitude had tipped the scales for me. I also told him that my rain fly had to be replaced before Winter anyway, and that this time I would get a camouflage tarp instead of the bright silver one that I had always used. It seemed to please him that I would soon be disappearing.

I started my land search in October, a few weeks after talking with Alan. I was still working in Manassas, Virginia, at the time so it was difficult to find suitable property within commuting distance to northern Virginia. I ran the usual craigslist ad and started talking to friends, but after a few months it became clear that finding a nice spot near Manassas was going to be tough. During that same time, I shopped around for camouflage tarps. I found a few on the Internet that were heavy enough for my needs, but they were more expensive than the silver ones that I’d been using. I wasn’t real happy about using camouflage anyway. The dark colors would absorb more heat in Summer, and I just didn’t like the aesthetics.

Throughout all of this, I was becoming more and more troubled. Alan had convinced me that I should be hiding my home, but that ran contrary to what I truly felt. Living in a tent has been such a blessing for me. It’s a great way to live, and I naturally want to share it with others. But now, I had bought into the idea that I should hide from society because my home and lifestyle were somehow not acceptable. I knew that the real problem here was Alan’s attitude, so why was I trying so hard to legitimize it?

I continued the land search for a few more weeks, but just couldn’t bring myself to buy the camouflage tarp. In the end, the land search failed, too, so I decided that I would just renew my lease for another year and stay put, silver tarp and all.


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