My Third Anniversary of Tent Living

I moved into my tent in November of 2011, so it's been three years now. And what a year this one has been.

The year 2014 has been one of the most eventful and significant years of my life. It's been full of love and heartache and worry and joy. Divorce and severance and the end of the old, but also reunion and healing of broken relationships that were so important to me. There were nosy neighbors and police, lawyers and judges and courtrooms and threats of lawsuits. Such experiences. Such learning. So many life changes.

And on top of it all, or perhaps, at least in part, because of it, I found God this year, and all the grace and forgiveness that comes with that, as well as all the hard work of repentance. I'm just beginning to understand the relationship between Mother Earth and Father Spirit and this way of life, but it's clear to me that these things are all interwoven, and that my life is now taking me down a wondrous path.

So, with all the change and all the wonder and all the distractions of this past year, what has this third year of tent living meant to me?

My simple home has been the one constant in my life this past year. It's been my safe haven. It's been the one area of my life that was never once threatened by loss or change from all the happenings of this year. A quiet, peaceful place where I could spend time alone, figuring things out. My place of prayer, where I heard most clearly. It's been my sanctuary. My place of retreat when I felt overwhelmed. And even though the thin canvas walls of my home bend easily to Mother Earth's winds, they are completely immune to anything that mankind may try to wield against them. Like an invisible, nearly magical shield, these thin walls protect me from all the threats and disruptions that the outside world of man may bring. Peace. Security. Holiness. What a wonderful home this is.

And so, in keeping with my tradition for this time of year, I ask myself whether I will continue this way of life for yet another year, or whether I am finally finished with tent living. Well this year, when I pondered that choice, I could only smile.

While most people consider tent living to be sort of crazy, I find that the longer I live this way, the more sense it makes. It's fascinating to me that when I now consider the notion of packing up my tent and moving back into a house and living like I used to, every part of my being screams, "No!!! That's crazy!!!"

So another year it is. And if I were a planning man, I'd commit to even more! But one year at a time is already a lot to ask, as this past year has shown, so I'll leave it at that.

Recipe for Apple Fritters

I went to a gathering at a friend's house last weekend. It was a beautiful November night, full or stars and not too cold. Early in the evening, as guests were still arriving and gathering around the campfire, one of our friends, Honey Marie, was still in the kitchen, dancing to music and frying up fritters.

These fritters aren't as good as Honey's, but they're still pretty damn good! I fried them up last night when I woke up at 3am with a sweet tooth and noticed that I still had one apple left from the several that I had bought from Mary Ann's fruit stand a few days before.



Apple fritters frying in coconut oil

Served up with honey and molasses

1. In a small mixing bowl, combine 1/2 cup oatmeal, 1/4 cup wheat flour, 1/4 cup nut or soy flour, 1/4 cup biscuit mix, 1/2 cup sugar, and lots of cinnamon
2. Mix in one egg, 1/4 cup olive oil, and just enough water to bring to a thick batter
3. Add one peeled and diced apple

Mix batter well. Heat 1/4 inch of coconut oil to medium-high heat in a small frying pan. Drop spoonfuls of batter mix into hot oil and fry to golden brown, flipping as needed. Remove from frying pan and place on paper towel to remove excess oil. Top with honey and molasses when served.

Enjoy!

Bringing Electricity into my World

It's mid-November now. Thanksgiving is next week, and December is right around the corner. Soon it will be Christmas, then New Year's Eve when I will drink a toast to 2015, the start of a new chapter in my life, for I'm retiring from the software industry at the end of this year.

Retirement will bring big changes to my life, so it's a very interesting time for me. I've been doing a lot of thinking these past few months about what next year may bring, and over the weekend I made some final decisions that will impact my life in the tent, the most important of which is the concession that...

I'm gonna need electricity.

Yep, that's right, I have to bring in electricity. I'm actually okay with this decision, finally, but I must admit that I didn't like going down that road to begin with. Electricity is just too...tempting. Once I have an AC outlet in my tent, I'll be tempted by other things, like televisions and DVD players and...God, help me! So I'm about to begin my battle with worldly temptations again, and I hope I have the strength to persevere.

In any case, for better or for worse, I've decided to flirt with that temptress in order to pursue my passions next year. I plan to write and make music for hours at a time, so I'm gonna need to plug-in.

I'll use a laptop for writing. I'm still shopping for one, but it will be very basic. Just a small system with Internet capabilities. Small, cheap, and low power consumption. For music, I plan to do a lot of recording and to rehearse once in a while for live performances. I already own an eight-track digital recorder, and a small acoustic amplifier for live performances.

I plan to build a 12V system with a single AC inverter. To correctly size the components, I need to look closely at my consumption.

First, I need to determine the peak load by adding up the wattage of all devices that could be running at the same time. This sum will determine the inverter size that I'll need.

The devices that I'll be operating are:

• Laptop = 100W
• Digital recorder = 20W
• Small acoustic amplifier = 150W

I might actually want to operate all of these at the same time. For example, I might want to mic the amplifier and record the output, then download the recorded tracks to the laptop. So my peak load could be as high as 100 + 20 + 150 = 270W. I'll round that up to a 400W inverter which I can easily find for under $30.00.

Next, I need to find my average daily consumption by multiplying the wattage of each device by its average run-time. That will give me my average watt-hours per day. But what will my "average day" look like? Hmm. Well, some days I may write all day long, so a day of writing would cost me 100W x 8 hours = 800 watt-hours. Other days, I might be recording all day long, so 20W x 8 hours = 160 watt-hours. I don't plan to do much rehearsing through the amplifier, so maybe a few hours here and there would be a big day for that, something like 150W x 2 hours = 300 watt-hours per week at the most.

Ok, that helps, but it still doesn't give me a good sense of what an "average day" might be like, so let's explore that. The writing days are the heavy consumers, but if I'm really writing all day long, then I'll probably want to get out anyway, maybe go to a coffee shop and socialize a bit and get on the Internet. So I'll just budget for one day of at-home writing per week. Now, for the digital recording. My recording time will probably go in spurts. I might record for a few days in a row, then take an entire week off. So on average, I'll budget for two full days of recording per week. So that gives me: (800 x 1 day) + (160 x 2 days) = 1120 watt-hours per week. I'll round that up to 1300 watt-hours per week.

Now that I know my average consumption, I can start to think about how many days I'd like to run before having to recharge. At the moment, I plan to recharge my batteries at a local auto parts store (I'm still looking into that, so I'll have another post on recharging later). I don't mind taking batteries in once a week for recharge, but I'd like at least five full days of continuous operation on a single charge. And I don't want to draw the batteries down below 50% depth of discharge, so I'll double the weekly consumption rate to 2600 watt-hours and size the batteries based on that figure.

For a 12V system, I'll need 2600 watt-hours / 12V = 217 amp-hours per week. I can get that from just one battery, albeit a pretty expensive one (something like the Trojan J185H-AC 12V 225AH flooded deep-cycle battery, which costs over $300.00!). Or I could build a battery bank from 12V or 6V batteries.

So the problem now comes down to acquiring the batteries and figuring out how to recharge them. I'll need to do more research to figure that out, so stay tuned!

New Propane Heater

I'm still experimenting with different space heaters to heat my tent in Autumn. The wood stove is just too hot to fire up until December, so I need a space heater to get me through October and November.

My first two Winters, I used a kerosene space heater. Kerosene heat is very economical and puts out about 22K BTUs, which is more than enough for my needs. But while kerosene heat has some nice advantages, I just didn't like the mess and the fumes, so last year I switched to propane. I chose a Mr. Heater MH15T tank-top heater, which puts out about 15K BTUs. The tank-top heater was also very economical, provided plenty of heat, was very convenient, and gave off no fumes. But the tank-top heater was a bit difficult to connect to the tank, and I just didn't like the design, from a safety standpoint. It had an automatic shut-off in case it tipped over, but I still didn't like the higher center of gravity on the tank, and the idea that the heater was physically connected to the tank. Also, the wiring from the thermocouple to the shut-off valve was just sort of hanging off to the side where it could be easily damaged. In fact, the thermocouple failed last Spring, but whether that was due to the wiring or to something else I don't know.

A few weeks ago, I went shopping for a new propane heater to replace the old tank-top that broke last Spring. I had been pretty pleased with the tank-top heater, and fully intended to just buy another one, until I saw the Mr. Heater MH9BX Portable Buddy propane heater.

Mr. Heater MH9BX Portable Buddy

The Portable Buddy had a lot of features that I really liked. It was a separate unit that attached to the propane tank with an adaptor hose, which meant that I could keep the tank outside of the tent if I wanted. It also had an electric ignitor, which wasn't available on the tank-top heater. It had an automatic shut-off in case of tip, like the tank-top model, but it also had a shut-off in case of low oxygen. And it was much easier to move around than the tank-top model. The Portable Buddy also had a more refined radiant panel, which provided a much quieter burn.

On the down-side, the Portable Buddy is nearly twice the price of the tank-top model, and it only offers 9K BTUs. That's only enough heat to raise the temperature in my tent by 20 degrees or so (compared to 30 degrees with the 15K BTU tank-top model). With only a 20 degree increase, the 9K BTUs will only get me into the low-60s on those cold November mornings in Virginia.

After scratching my head a bit, I decided to go ahead and try the Portable Buddy. I also purchased a 5' adaptor hose and decided to just leave the tank inside the tent for now (probably a mistake!) I've only used the heater a few times so far, but I like it a lot.The heater is nearly silent when it burns, and has a beautify orange glow that lights up my dark tent in the early morning. As the days get colder, I'll probably have to supplement the heater by burning my propane cook stove, too, which I occasionally do anyway. But the lower BTUs is more than compensated for by the improved safety over the tank-top model, which is a big advantage for me.

Reflections on Election Night

It's Election Night 2014, and millions of my fellow American citizens are voting. I won't be joining them. I don't vote anymore.

I know that it's my duty to vote. And I know that we are blessed in this country to have the opportunity to vote. That democracy only works when the citizens speak their will at the polls. I still believe in democracy, that it's the best form of government that man has so far devised, and perhaps ever will devise. But lately, the very idea of voting in America turns my stomach.

The US Federal Government is an abomination. It is a vile and shameful thing, and I detest it. It epitomises the very worst in human nature. Greed. Power. Ego. Injustice. Deceit. And I will not be a part of it any longer.

I don't complain about how thing are going in this country anymore, either, for I know that this ship is on its own course now, the captain and crew having some time ago left their positions in order to meet with lobbyists and capitalists and other powerful and influential people. And although the multitude of passengers sense that something is amiss because the vessel is listing so badly, the officers on board remain confident that between them all, they will always remain in control, each taking their turn as captain or commander or lieutenant or midshipman with each passing election. And so it is tonight, when the passengers are allowed to cast their votes, and the crew is obliged to switch their hats and uniforms in accordance before returning to their politics. But the ship! Is anybody tending to the ship!

I will always obey the laws of this land, and respect the authority of it's appointed agents, and do my best to be a good citizen in other ways. But I will not sanction this abhorrent government by casting even one single vote in the affirmative, for I strongly disagree with it all. I loathe it's very nature now, and I cannot find even a remnant of anything holy or righteous anywhere in it.

This government only affects me in as much as I let it, so I don't let it. This government is dead to me now, so no, I won't be voting. But to my fellow citizens who still believe in such things: Here's to your candidate winning the election and fixing things up! Good luck! In the meantime, I'll be in my cabin, enjoying what's left of the cruise (and perhaps fashioning a life boat).

Expectations and Appreciation

I used to have pretty high expectation, and the funny thing is, I never realized it at the time. I thought my expectations were just normal. Well, actually, I didn't really even see them as expectations at all. I just figured that things should work the way that they were supposed to work, and when they didn't then something was wrong. Like if I flipped on a light switch and the room didn't light up, or if the refrigerator was on the blink, or the roof was leaking, or the lawn mower wouldn't start, things like that. It was just normal to go through my life thinking that things should work, and when they didn't then it was normal to complain. It had nothing to do with my expectations being too high, or so I thought.

In fact, I used to complain all the time. Like how my dinner was too cold, or my beer was too warm, or there was nothing good to watch on television. Sometimes I'd get a double wammy, like I'd be flipping through the TV channels complaining about the lousy programming and the batteries in the remote would die. Damn it!

It seemed like the more I surrounded myself with things that were supposed to make me happy and comfortable, the more I found things to complain about. Things were supposed to be comfortable and perfect, right? But there was always something going wrong.

Now, after a few years of tent living, I realize that my expectations were ridiculously high, and my appreciation was pathetically low. But waking up to those facts was a slow process.

One of my early realizations came on a cold Winter's day a couple of years ago. It was a Saturday morning. I woke up to the sunrise lighting up the back of my tent. The wood stove had burned down to coals but it was still pretty pleasant inside, maybe 50 degrees. I got out of my warm bed, stoked the fire, started a pot of coffee on my propane stove, and stepped outside onto my plywood stoop. I was only wearing long johns so the 20-degree temperatures really hit me.

It was a beautiful Winter's day. It had snowed through the night, the air was still, and the sky was blue. A few song birds were darting about, foraging for food and perching on sunny branches trying to warm themselves after a long, cold night.

I watch birds a lot when I'm outdoors. I think about them a lot, too, because they're one of my favorite symbols of freedom. They live simply, they're pretty good at avoiding predators and staying safe, and they can fly! But they pay a high price for their freedom, like having to constantly forage for food, and spending cold Winter nights out in the elements.

I watched the birds for another minute, maybe two, but then I got cold and went back inside. The fuel in the wood stove had taken off and the inside temperature was in the 70s now. And while my morning coffee perked on the stove, I got dressed for the day. I had a wonderful, comfortable, simple, peaceful day that day. It was glorious, and I appreciated every moment.

My lifestyle is not easy. It's not what most people would call "comfortable". But it's an absolute paradise compared to the lifestyle of my animal friends, and I'm thankful for that. I have warm shelter in the Winter. I never worry about food. And I'm safe and secure. What more should I expect? I've brought very few man-made items into my life, and I've chosen them carefully. Like a poly tarp for shelter from rain and snow and Summer's heat. And a propane stove for clean, convenient heating and cooking. Things like that, but only a few, important things. Things that are simply and inexpensive. Things that rarely break and serve me well. I appreciate those things because they bring great benefits into my life.

At the same time, I have nothing bad to say about living close to Nature. She has always fully met all of my expectations. Summer is hot and Winter is cold, just as it should be. I've seen all the different sides of Nature, and I have no complaints.

I used to be soft and spoiled, living far removed from Nature and complaining all the time. I'm so thankful that I don't have to live like that anymore. Now, I live a simple life in a tent in the woods. I own almost nothing, and I am so, so very blessed. I know it's counter-intuitive, but that's how it is. The closer I've gotten to Nature, and the fewer man-made items that I've brought into my life, the more appreciative and thankful I've become. There's nothing to complain about in my life now, and so many little, simple things to be thankful for. The birds, they have things to complain about. But me, I'm by far the luckiest animal in the woods.

Autumn in the Air

This morning I woke up to 65 degrees. That wasn't unusual for this Summer. There have been plenty of cool mornings like this, but today was different. For the first time, Autumn was in the air. I could feel it in the trees and see it in the sky. The shady awning of Autumn has now dropped across the northern hemisphere, and it won't beginning lifting again until the first day of Winter.

Our four seasons

I brought in a load of firewood a few days ago and told myself that is was for Autumn campfires with friends. But some of it will remain as Winter approaches, to be burned in my woodstove in the coming weeks. I'm not ready for Autumn yet. Usually by the end of August, I'm happy to see shorter days and cooler nights, having spent too many hot Summer nights sweating as I lay in bed. But not this year. It's mid-September now, and I miss the heat of Summer already.

A Different Way to Search for Land

I plan to move to Rappahannock County, Virginia next Spring. It's the next county over from where I live now, just to the northwest. It's beautiful. The Blue Ridge Mountains occupy the western part of the county so there are plenty of clear streams, and mountain views everywhere you look. There's plenty of raw land, too, with only 8,000 or so people living in the county. It's a great place to live, and seems ideal for tent living.

I only decided upon Rappahannock County a few weeks after conducting a more general land search last July. I ran the usual craigslist ad and put the word out on Facebook. I got the usual interesting responses and met some new people. I even had an offer to stay on some property in West Virginia, but that didn't work out. During that search, a couple of Facebook friends mentioned Sperryville, Virginia, which is in Rappahannock County. I had always liked Sperryville, so when my friend, Darlene, mentioned that she had met a lot of interesting people at The Headmaster's Pub in Sperryville, I decided to go check it out.

Following her advice, I went to the Headmaster's Pub that next weekend and immediately realized that Sperryville was my kind of place. The people there are great and it was easy to make new friends. I go there nearly every Friday now, and at some point I'm sure that I'll make a connection that leads me to land.

I've tried the craigslist approach three different times now. Each time it's been somewhat fruitful, and has led me to some interesting people, but I've yet to find land that way. On the other hand, I've had good success finding land by getting the word out to friends. So from here on out, I'm giving up on advertising to the general public. And now that I've decided upon Rappahannock County, I'm going to keep hanging out at Headmaster's Pub, meet some new friends, and wait for that certain sequence of events that leads me to my new home.

What is Tent Living Really About?

When I first started living this way, I thought I knew what it was going to be like. After all, I'd done a lot of camping in my life, so I just figured that living this way would be like an extended camping trip.

Turns out I had no idea what I was getting into. Living in a tent has taken me places that I never could have imagined.

When I first started out, I thought this way of life was all about getting my tent set up properly and solving all the technical problems. And it was, for awhile, but soon I got everything worked out. Then, I realized that this way of life was really about living simply and reducing stress. And it was. But then, from that relaxed state of mind, I began to realize that this way of life was really more about reconnecting with Nature, and seeing myself as part of it. So that became the focus of tent living, for awhile, until I began to clearly see that there is an incredible, beautiful, simple and yet complex, awe-inspiring natural order to how all life on this planet behaves and interacts. And from that new vantage point, it became clear that we humans are largely in violation of that natural order, and that we suffer dearly for that. So I became a "tentvangelist" for awhile, spreading the good news about tent living! Until I finally had to acknowledge that I would probably never "convert" even a single modern human to this way of life.

And now, after nearly three years of living this way, I see that tent living is about living freely, and being true to ourselves, and staying close to God.

Living in a tent has been an incredible journey. It's been a winding road, with new surprises around every bend. And surprisingly, tent living isn't really about tents at all. It's about living. Living close to nature, without the distractions of electrical devices. Living without a "to do" list. Living without debt, and without the need for full-time employment. Living a healthy life in which you are rich in time and free to pursue your gifts and passions. It's about being free, and living the way God intended us all to live.

I've journeyed pretty far down this road now, and I'm getting further away from civilization all the time. I'm pretty sure this is a solo journey, since new recruits are hard to come by. So I'll just keep reporting from the other side, and keep hoping that maybe, someday, a struggling soul will have the courage and faith to take the leap, and find their own way to freedom.

Bad Neighbors, The Conclusion

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Okay, I’ll admit it, I’m not normal. I live in a tent. I don’t have electricity. I carry in water. I mean, come on! I realize that society can only tolerate so much deviation from the norm, and I’m one of those anomalies. The threads of our social fabric must remain more or less aligned, in a normal pattern, or the social structures that we all depend upon will weaken and tear. My lifestyle doesn’t fit well in society and that bothers some people, like Alan.

When Alan and I were talking that day, he tried to explain to me why tent living bothered him so much. "What if everybody lived that way?" he had asked. I knew the point he was trying to make. When he imagined millions and millions of people living simply, off the grid, largely removed from the economy, and unconcerned with property, he saw chaos.

"That’s not a fair question", I said, knowing full well where his imagination had already taken him. "Because I think it would be wonderful."

I’m abnormal, and therefore to some, I’m a threat. Many people in this country are afraid right now. It’s an uneasy time for us. We’re completely dependent upon our social institutions, and the systems that we’ve always depended upon for employment and protection have shown themselves to be fragile and weak. This generation is slowly waking up to the fact that our social institutions are not built of stone, but are built of cards. And we are all sitting on top of that house, having been told all our lives that is was the right thing to do.

If Alan lived in a more stable society, built upon a solid foundation, then I think he might be less fearful and more tolerant of people like me. He would know that nothing could possibly threaten his social order. But unfortunately the institutions in Alan’s world were built upon greed and the desire for power. In our society, it’s normal to take what you can, and unusual to give what you can. So I understand Alan’s concerns, and I still believe him to be a good person. And who knows, perhaps one day, if he can get his mind around it, he might decide to leave his fears behind, jump off his house of cards, and move into a tent! But before he does that, I’d have to warn him about the neighbors.

The End

Bad Neighbors, Part 7

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Having finished my conversation with Detective Clark, I spent the rest of the day pondering what had happened. I was still very upset by the way the police had mishandled the whole situation, but I also couldn’t stop thinking about Alan’s role in all of this. Had he put his friend up to this, or was Alan truly unaware of what his friend had done? I wanted to find the truth.

The next morning, I called Alan to talk to him about what had happened. He didn’t answer, so I left a voice mail. "Hi Alan, this is Dave, the guy in the tent", I said. "Listen, I’m out-of-town right now but I just heard about the incident at my tent. I’m getting a lot of broken information and I don’t want to draw the wrong conclusions about you, so please give me a call so we can talk about what happened."

About an hour later, my phone rang. I didn’t recognize the number but answered anyway.

"Hi, this is Dave", I said.

"Hi Dave, this is Tracy, Alan’s wife", said the caller.

In the two years that I had lived in Brandy Station, I had never met Tracy, but I had heard about her. She had a bad reputation with the people I knew. While Alan seemed somewhat reasonable about things, she was apparently obsessed with my tent being so close to her house. My friends had described her as being controlling, obsessive, and manipulative, so I wasn’t quite sure how this conversation was going to go.

"Alan’s busy right now. He’s gonna call you back tonight but I just wanted to reach out to you and talk about this. I’m so sorry about what happened. We had nothing to do with it. I told Alan that his friend was bad news. He’s Alan’s friend, not mine, by the way. I’m just so sorry that this happened", she said.

I said very little during the conversation, but she went on talking for nearly an hour. She was very polite and respectful. She admitted that she didn’t like the tent there, but said that she would never do anything like call the police. And since the incident, she said that her life was a mess. Apparently she and Alan were receiving unwanted phone calls from the guy in jail in West Virginia.

It was an odd call. Tracy’s voice sounded sincere, she even cried a few times during the conversation, but the things that she said didn’t add up somehow, and the whole thing left me with more questions than answers. Why did she feel so compelled to reach out to me when she herself hadn’t done anything wrong? Was she just a really compassionate and empathetic person? Not according to my friends. And why was the guy in jail harassing her if she wasn’t somehow involved in all of this? What could he possibly have to say that was so urgent? And why did she emphasize that he was Alan’s friend, and not hers? So I wouldn’t think badly of her? But why would she care what I thought when we’d never even met?

It was a very odd call indeed, and Alan never did call back.

I would find out a few days later that thing weren’t adding up for the police, either. It was the phone calls from jail that finally led them to investigate Alan and Tracy. Like me, they felt that the whole thing was just too coincidental and that Alan and Tracy may have had a part in it. They investigated for over three months, but in the end couldn’t find enough evidence to charge them. I can only conclude, therefore, that Alan and Tracy are completely innocent in this matter, for they have not been proven guilty.

Maybe I’ll have a chance to talk to Alan about all of this someday, but then again, maybe not.

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Bad Neighbors, Part 6

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The detective and I talked a bit more about the incident. He told me that they had charged the guy with breaking and entering, filing a false police report, and a few other misdemeanors, and that he would be held in West Virginia until he agreed to be transported back to Virginia for prosecution. Apparently the guy had a criminal history of trespassing, illegal entry, things like that, so he would probably do some jail time for this one.

Toward the end of our conversation, Detective Clark mentioned that he had read my tent living blog. "It was part of our investigation, so I read the whole thing", he said. "By the way, I really respect what you’re doing out there, and I really like your setup. I think we should probably all be living simpler lives."

"You read my blog?" I said. Wait a minute! If he had read my blog then he knew who I was and why I was living this way. And surely he had also checked my criminal history and found that it was clean.

It was at that point that I started thinking more about the role of the police in all of this. Not only was I squeaky clean, but so was my landlord. He’s an upstanding citizen, well known in the community, with no criminal record and a security clearance! Shouldn’t that have raised some alarms? And did they even bother to check out the guy making the false report? He had a long criminal record! Couldn’t they have been more diligent before sending a bunch of guys into the woods surrounding my home with guns? What if I would have been there? What if my grandchildren would have been visiting!

I understand people like Alan. I even understand people like his friend who are willing to break the law and do bad things in order to "protect" their friends (if indeed that’s what happened). I don’t excuse such acts, but I understand how people can behave badly sometimes. But I expect much more from the police. How could they have been fooled by this guy so easily, especially when they knew who I was and why I was living in a tent? Had they just been sloppy? How incompetent were they? Or worse yet, were they corrupt and actually wanted to raid my place for some reason? The more I thought about it, the more upset I became. Nobody was hurt during this particular raid, but that was only by providence. Was this a typical example of the general caliber of the Culpeper County Sheriff’s Department? If it was, then something had to be done to correct them before they injured or killed an innocent person due to their ineptitude.

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Bad Neighbors, Part 5

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All was quite during the Winter months. I had completely lost contact with Alan, and in April of 2014, I took a trip to Michigan to visit family. I was there for three weeks, and toward the end of my visit I received a text message from my ex-wife. It said that the Culpeper County Sherriff’s Department had contacted her and would like me to call them. They had given her a detective’s name and phone number to call, but no other details.

The next day, I called Detective Clark as requested. "Thank you for calling us, Mr. Shilling", he said. "I’m sorry to interrupt your vacation, but there’s been an incident at your tent."

"An incident?" I said.

"We received a report that your tent was being used as a PCP lab", he continued. I immediately thought of Alan, but I didn’t say anything. "We got a search warrant and searched your place", he said. "I’m sorry about all of this. The man that made the false report is in custody in West Virginia. Your tent is fine. We put everything back in its place and I hope you won’t even notice we were there." Holy crap! My jaw dropped.

"Who was this guy?" I asked.

"He was a close personal friend of Alan, your neighbor", he said. I knew it!

"Wow. That doesn’t surprise me", I said. As soon as I heard that the guy was Alan’s friend, I became convinced that Alan was somehow behind all of this. Here it was, late April, and I was still sporting my silver tarp and hadn’t yet moved. Alan had been quiet and patient up until now, but had his patience finally worn out? I didn’t want to give too much information about Alan to the detective just yet. First, I wanted to hear what else he had to say about this other guy. "So what made this guy believe that my tent was a PCP lab?" I asked.

"Well, apparently he had visited Alan and saw your tent, and took it upon himself to check it out", he said. "He told us he went into your tent and looked around. He said it looked like a PCP lab. There were mason jars, a gas stove, firearms, and tunnels outside nearby."

"Wait, so he just saw the tent and thought it was suspicious so he took it upon himself to check it out?" I asked.

"Yeah, that’s what he said", he told me. "He said he was ‘Alan’s protector’. He’s known Alan for many years and is apparently a very close friend, like a father figure."

"Well, it doesn’t surprise me that there’s a connection with Alan", I said. "I spoke with Alan a few months ago and he doesn’t like me living next to him in a tent."

"Well, we’re pretty sure there’s a connection there, too. But we don’t have any evidence of that", he said.

[ Next page ]

Bad Neighbors, Part 4

[ Previous page ]

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.

[ Next page ]

New Living Room Tarp

I finally replaced the small tarp over my picnic table. I lost the old one to heavy snow loads last Winter. The new one is the same size as the old one, 10' x 20', and a bit heavier at 5 mils. But it's still no match for Winter snow loads so I'll take it down in a few months before the snow flies.

Living Room, with a new tarp over the picnic table

Hurricane Lamps

I don't have electricity at my place so I light with oil lamps and candles. I have three table-top oil lamps the two hanging hurricane lamps.

I bought my first hurricane lamps from a local department store. They cost around $6 each. They'd work well for awhile, but then they'd always fail. (What do you expect for six bucks, right?) I'd usually get two or three months use out of them, and then they'd start leaking or the fuel caps would strip out or the wick mechanism would break.

I had such bad luck with those cheap hurricane lamps that I sort of just gave up on them. But a few weeks ago, I decided to break down and buy some high-quality hurricane lamps that would last for many years.

After doing a little research, I decided on the Dietz #1 "Little Wizard" lantern. It's pretty short (12" high) so I can hang it from ceiling, and it holds 36 ozs of fuel, which gives a 40+ hour burn time. The Dietz Company has been making oil lamps and lanterns since the 1840s and has a great reputation.

The "Little Wizard" seemed like the perfect lantern, so I bought two!

Dietz Brand #1 "Little Wizard" Oil Lanterns

New hurricane lamps hanging from the ceiling

Time for a New Roof

When I bought my Wilderness wall tent a few years ago, I had it treated with Sunforger water and mildew treatment. The thick, water-treated canvas repels water really well, but I've done enough camping to know that an extra layer or protection is always good, so I installed a rain fly above the canvas tent, too. The rain fly is a 20'x30' poly tarp, 10 mils thick, with heavy, reinforced grommets. It's significantly larger than the 12'x14' tent so there's plenty of overhang all around, and I mounted it a foot or so above the tent so it provides welcome shade in Summer, and helps to bear some of the snow load in Winter.

The poly rain fly protects the canvas from sun, rain, and snow. It's my first line of defense against the forces of Nature so it takes a real beating. Last Winter was a tough one in Virginia, and the heavy snow really took its toll on my two-year-old rain fly. It ripped out one of the grommets and put a few small holes in the fabric, and the poly material has deteriorated to the point where water is trickling through in a number of areas during heavy rains.





 



Original rain fly showing signs of fatigue after nearly three years of use

That first tarp served me incredibly well. It kept me safe and dry for nearly three years at a cost of around $30 per year. But now, I think it's too weak to take me through another Winter, so it's time to install a new one.

I pulled the old tarp off and dragged it off to the side. It had been a long time since I'd seen the uncovered canvas. It looked so small.

Before putting up the new rain fly, I decided to make some improvements to my installation. I have never been very satisfied with the way the rain fly sags toward the middle of the suspension rope over time. It tends to sag along the eaves, too, even though I have adjustable ropes there and can tighten them up from time to time. With the new rain fly, I want to be able to adjust it just once when I install it, nice and taught, and have it stay that way.

With my old installation, I tied a rope to a single grommet at each gable end and secured the other end of the rope to the support post. That kept the ridge line tight, for awhile, but the grommet eventually tore out. (If there's one thing I've learned about tarps, it's that you never tie a rope to a single grommet!)

With my new rain fly, I decided to lash the gable ends to a couple pieces of conduit in order to spread the tension across several grommets, like I do on the eave sides. I then tied a rope to the conduit, and secured the other end of the rope to the support post using a heavy-duty rubber tie-down (not shown). The tie-down keeps constant tension on the gable ends.

Putting tension on the gable ends

To keep constant tension on the eaves, I installed the same rubber tie-downs on the guy lines there, too. It turned the entire ran fly into a trampoline!

Rubber tie-downs keep the rain fly taught

Here's hoping I get another three years out of this new rain fly.

New rain fly with improved installation

Bad Neighbors, Part 3

[ Previous page ]

He was still anxious and angry as he started right back at me. "What are you doing out here!", he said. "You're living here, aren't you!"

"Yeah, I live here," I admitted.

"Oh I know you do! I keep track of you. I see where you park your truck and I know when you're here," he said. What? He's been monitoring my comings and goings? Now I was the one who was starting to feel uncomfortable.

I understood why he was uncomfortable with me living there. And, assuming he was a family man, I even understood his anger and aggressiveness. He was protecting his "territory", which for him I suppose included the adjacent property, so long as there was a strange man there living in a tent. But I still thought this whole situation could be defused if only he would get to know me a little and realize that I was no threat to him or his family.

"Hey look," I said, "I know this is strange, and I realize you're probably thinking the worst, but believe me there's nothing shady going on here. The landowner is a friend of mine, and I live this way by choice. It's something I've always wanted to try. And since you and I are neighbors..."

"We're not neighbors!!" he interrupted. "Do you own the property here? Do you pay taxes? No! So don't call me your neighbor! You're not my neighbor!" That statement sent alarms through me. It was dehumanizing, and that can lead to a dangerous situation. I tried to stay calm, but this guy was much more upset than I had first imagined. And now I wasn't quite sure that talking this thing out was going to work.

"Okay, fine," I said, "but I still consider you to be my neighbor, and I don't want to make your life miserable. I'm trying to live in peace here, and if you're this upset over the situation then that upsets me, too."

For the first time, I could see his face beginning to soften just a little. The deep frown was beginning to relax. Maybe I was getting through to him.

"Look," I continued, "what is it exactly that's bothering you? What can I do to help you feel better about this?" He looked at me and paused for just a moment. I got the feeling that he'd never actually thought about that question. He just knew that he didn't like me there and he wanted me gone.

"Well, why do you have to camp right here? Right next to my driveway?" he asked. "I mean, I like camping, too, but out in the woods somewhere, not on some one's property like this. And what do you do about your toilet? I mean, where do you go?" he continued.

"I compost my waste," I said. "And when I set up here, I didn't realize your driveway was so close. I was trying to get toward the back of my friend's property to get away from the road, but I guess I went in too deep and ended up near your driveway."

"Look," I continued, "I was thinking about moving next Spring anyway, and now you've got me thinking even more seriously about it. But this stuff is a bitch to move, and Winter's comin' on. Can you at least tolerate me until Spring?"

"Hey, I don't want to chase anyone away," he countered. "If you wanna leave then that's up to you." I was glad that he was showing more respect towards me now. And his anger was nearly gone.

[ Next page ]

Skunks

I had my first close encounter with a skunk last night. Fortunately, it wasn't so close that I got sprayed.

I had just fallen asleep when I was awakened by small foot steps coming down my path. I realized from the sound that it was just a small animal. I figured it was a opossum since they occasionally snoop around my tent. I got up and grab my flashlight and shined it toward the noise.

It was a momma skunk and her three kits marching toward my tent in single-file, with momma in the lead. They were just a foot or two from my front steps by the time I got to the door. Cute, cute, cute!

Momma didn't mind the light at all and just kept right on coming, with the three kits following close behind. I made a loud "Pssst! Pssst!" noise, which stopped momma in her tracks and caused the kits to sort of bump into her back side. For a moment, they were just a cuddly bundle of black and white confusion as momma tried to figure out her next move. She turned left then right then left then around and back a few steps then started to approach the tent again. I did the "Pssst! Pssst!" again, and this time she decided to retreat altogether as she turned away and headed back down the path the way she had come. The kits tagged right along behind her, and within a few steps they were all in single-file again, marching down the path the way they had come.

I don't know whether they would have climbed the steps into the tent, but I closed the door just in case. I'll probably start sleeping with the door closed now, at least for awhile.

Bad Neighbors, Part 2

[ Previous page ]

 

"I don’t know who you are or what you’re up to, but I don’t like it!" the man had said as we met at the fence line, I on my side and he on his.

 

This was a new experience for me. Throughout my life I’d lived a "normal" lifestyle and had always fit into the society around me. But now, this guy’s attitude had made me feel that I had done something terribly wrong. He looked at me like I was crazy, or somehow a threat to his family. He was angry and agitated, but I didn’t get the sense that he intended physical harm. He just didn’t understand what I was doing there, living in a tent so close to his home and family.

 

I’m not a fighter, and it takes a lot to get me angry, so my immediate reaction was to stay calm and try to talk to this guy. "Hold on a minute." I said, trying my best to stay calm while speaking in a firm and confident voice. After all, the way that he had greeted me was very rude, and although I understood why he might be upset, it didn’t excuse his behaviour. "Let’s back up a bit", I said as I offered him my right hand. "My name is Dave".

 

He reached out and shook my hand with a deep frown still on his face. The handshake was almost instinctive on his part, which showed he was usually a polite man and that this encountered was probably as uncomfortable for him as it had been so far for me. "Alan", he said

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Hot Summer Nights

As the hot Summer sun moved slowly across the evening sky, the long shadows of the pines stretched across the floor of the woods. Soon enough, the trees’ shadows would be absorbed into the darkness, joining with the evening, completing the transition from day to evening to night.

 

I lay on my hammock watching the close of the day, dressed only in shorts, my skin still sticky from the sweat of the day. I spread out on my back, looking up into the tall tree tops and watched the day pass into evening. The trees were especially beautiful in these early evening hours as they caught the parting rays of sunlight. Their leaves and branches and needles, being bathed in horizontal light from the west, glowed orange and reddish. The air felt still and humid, but high in the trees the leaves and branches rustled very gently, a sign of a cooler evening ahead.

 

The evening insects found me again as I lay there gently rocking from side to side. Their annoying buzzes interrupted the pleasant white noise of wind and leaves and evening birds and crickets. But soon most of them went on their way, and the few that remained were easier to ignore, so I fell asleep for an evening nap.

 

When I awoke it was nearly dark. I gathered my things and went back to the tent. Still tired, I went straight to bed, only to begin sweating again in the stale, still air inside. There would be no sleep until I cooled down, so I filled my water pot and went outside for a bath. I slowly poured the cool water over my body and let it trickle down my skin. A breezy evening would have been perfect, but there would be little wind evening. I continued to pour water on myself until the pot was empty. I was a bit more comfortable now so I went back to bed. I lay back on the damp bedding, my body still damp as well, and was soon able to fall asleep.

 

I slept well for some hours until I was awakened by a Summer storm that had built up some distance to the northeast. Heat lightning was lighting up my tent. And the accompanying thunder, grumbling slowly along as it passed through my woods, spoke softly of a powerful storm several miles away.

 

I was wide awake now, so I went outside to enjoy the cooler air that the storm had brought to the area. I sat naked on the pine needles outside, found a fairly comfortable spot that offered some softness, and looked high into the trees to the southwest. It was a dark night with little moonlight so the woods appeared black. Then, the distant lightning would strike again and for a brief moment cast the trees in a flash of light, only to drop them back into darkness again an instant later. Between the flashes, the woods returned to their normal night time state, with only fireflies and a few stars making their way through the darkness. I sat there awhile longer, smiling at the activity of the night. Before long my sleepiness returned and I went back inside to bed.

 

I awoke the next morning and immediately thought about the evening and night before, and how wonderful these hot Summer nights are in the woods of my home.

Bad Neighbors

I met my neighbor for the first time last Fall. I call him my neighbor because, to me, that's what he is. He lives with his wife in a house on the adjoining property. But to him, I am not a neighbor. I am simply a problem.

We met early one morning late last year. I was strolling behind my tent as he drove down his driveway, which is 30 yards or so behind my tent. The area is wooded, but there are breaks through the trees where you can glance through and see the back of my tent from his driveway. I happened to be standing in one of those breaks when he drove by so I waved to him. He saw me wave and we made eye contact, but then he quickly turn forward and kept driving, trying to ignore me. I shrugged and started to turn away, but just then he stopped his car and, after a short pause, put the car in reverse and backed up to where I was standing.

He got out of his car and started walking to the property line, so I began walking to meet him. We met at the fence line, I on my side, he on his, and he yelled, "I don't know who you are or what you're up to, but I don't like it!" Okay, I get that. He must be thinking the worst, I thought. Maybe once he gets to know me, he'll calm down.

 

[ Next page ]

Late Spring

May is nearly over and I'm beginning to miss it already. March through May are perhaps my favorite months. I leave my door open this time of year and receive plenty of visitors, like lizards and mice and birds and all sorts of insects.

There seem to be more lizards this year than last, and the mice are happy to pop in and say hi, too. My relationship with mice has evolved a lot over the past couple of years. At first, I considered them menacing little creatures and trapped them without guilt. Then, earlier this Spring, I started to see them as cute little annoying neighbors that chewed up everything in sight. I no longer trap them. I just store my food in glass and plastic containers, keep my blankets in sealed plastic bags, and have resigned myself to wearing T-shirts with cute little hole chewed in them.

I saw my first firefly in flight last night, a sign of Summer. And I've enjoyed a number of thunderstorms. Their winds rocking the tree tops as well as my tent. The dark clouds causing me to light my lamps in the late afternoon. The heavy rain drops bouncing off my stoop and into my doorway, the door remaining open to let the cool wind evacuate the stale air from my tent. Temperatures quickly dropping from 80 to 65 as the lightning begins striking about, leaving me feeling mostly excited, but a little frightened, too.

The nights are still cool enough to require a blanket, but the heavy Winter bedding has been packed away since March. I still heat my bath water a little in the morning, but not nearly so hot. And my fuel costs are at their lowest this time of year since I don't have to heat the tent anymore. That won't start again until September.

My mornings are peaceful in spite of the birds in their frenzy at sunrise. There's plenty of early morning sun streaming through the cool air that still lingers from the night before, and a morning walk through the woods with coffee, and some guitar music to accompany the morning sounds.

These are wonderful days to live in a tent.

Time for Some Home Improvements

I've been living in a 12' x 14' canvas wall tent for 2 1/2 years now, and I love it. I live alone, which has some practical advantages. For example, I've been able to fully explore extreme simplicity with no constraints. I'd use my own personal values as my only guide, with no need to compromise or accommodate anyone else's needs. I'd come upon a problem, pick a solution that made me happy, and that was that.

As a result, I've simplified my lifestyle to my full satisfaction. I've eliminated most modern day comforts from my home like electricity, running water, indoor plumbing, refrigeration, and central heat and air, and I don't miss any of them. I light with oil lamps, carry in water, use a bucket for my toilet, heat with wood, and forgo air conditioning altogether. But throughout this entire experiment, I've only been concerned with myself. And now that I've found my own personal balance, and have experienced the incredible contentment that comes from living this way, I naturally want to spread the good news and share my lifestyle with others. And so I have. I've shared the details of tent living with many people from many different walks of life, and each time I have, I've gotten nearly the same reactions. On the one hand, nearly everyone appreciates my simple, stress-free way of living and wishes that they, too, could simplify their lives. But time and again, they stop short of changing anything in their own lives. And time and again, I hear the same concerns.

Here's a countdown of the top 10 reasons why most people would never explore my style of living:

10. It's just too crazy. Tent living is just too far out there for most people.

9. No electric lighting. Most people want to just flip a light switch and don't like the idea of dealing with candles and oil lamps full-time.

8. No air conditioning. Unlike Winter extremes, which can be controlled with a wood stove, the extreme heat of Summer is quite uncomfortable.

7. No central heat. Although I have a wood stove and am very comfortable in Winter, most people don't want the bother, mess and inconvenience of heating with wood.

6. No electronic entertainment. No TV, no Internet, and no stereo system. Most people believe they would be bored.

5. No refrigeration. That means no convenient leftovers waiting in the frig, and no cold beer in Summer.

6. It's no way to raise children. Many young families with children find my lifestyle completely impractical.

3. Not enough space. My entire home is around 170 square-feet, while in the US, the average per capita residential square footage is over 800.

2. No running water. Especially no running hot water, which means no bubble baths and no hot showers.

1. No flush toilet. This, by far, is the biggest concerns. My tent toilet consists of a bucket of sawdust, and almost nobody is okay with that.

It's also hard to entertain more than a few close friends at my place, especially in Winter when my living space is shutdown. And I can't really accommodate overnight guests.

So I'd like to extend my home to include the following:

• Better toilet facilities. I'm still trying to avoid a flush toilet, but I want to greatly improve my current setup.
• Guest bedroom. I really miss being able to invite guests over for a comfortable overnight stay.
• Room to entertain. I'd like to have eight or ten people over for dinner and drinks, even during the Winter.

My current thinking is to setup another tent to be used as a guest tent, build an outdoor bathroom, and improve my outdoor living space.

How Far Shall We Wander?

All of our efforts are voluntary, though it is sometimes hard to see. We are free to do as we please. Our free will and our innate sense and desire to help others are gifts from God to each of us. At our hearts we are giving creatures. But we are also selfish and greedy, and when those attributes are harnessed, they become work horses of incredible strength, able to pull entire economies and complex political and social systems. To deliver countless goods and services to market. And if we fail to control these beasts, they will quickly pull us into debt and servitude, and leave us feeling vulnerable and fearful as we sit in our well-appointed homes and gaze upon the beauty of Nature through our curtained windows, worrying about how tomorrow will be at work.

If we are free to choose our own enterprise, then how shall we know a good choice from a poor one? Our lives are short and our days are precious. Should we not take care to spend them wisely? To honor our gift of human life with good stewardship?

A wise man once said that the secret to happiness is not doing but rather being. And in Nature we see this truth most clearly with plants who are free to be only, their physical needs satisfied fully with no effort of their will. But we are animals of the highest form, so the truth of plants cannot take us so far. Instead, we see that all animals must work, and so must we. But the work we do now in this 21st century is rarely a holy thing. In our hearts, we are mostly unsettled about that fact. We often search for meaning and spiritual fulfillment and do not understand the emptiness that we feel even though our lives appear to be a great "success" in the eyes of others. Why does our lifestyle not satisfy our thirst? Without questioning whether we are on the right path, we often foolishly walk along it even faster. For is we are indeed heading toward fulfillment, does it not make sense to run instead of walk, thereby arriving at happiness that much quicker?

This, it seems, is the common state of the modern human. Feeling empty, we seek more. But the things that are offered to us on this path do not satisfy our spiritual thirst. The fruits of this labor do not nurish the human soul. Shall we gather even more, in the hopes of finding at least a morsel of satisfaction? Shall we continue to teach our children that this path is true and good and best?

In an ancient land, long ago, there lived many tribes of many people. Their needs, like ours, were real and pressing. Theirs was not a paradise, for there was sickness and hunger and death. And their work was not easy. Like us, they were creative and industrious and wanted a better life for their children. So when one of them found an easier way to carry water, or discovered a plant to heal the sick, or invented a way to gather more food, the whole society benefited and became more satisfied, their physical needs being met that much easier.

And so it went until they found themselves in a place of balance. For they still knew their place in Nature, that they were but one of many creatures. They shared the planet with the birds and the squirrels of the forest. They were humble and thankful for what God provided. And although they worked hard for their physical needs, as did the bird and the squirrel, their work was direct and necessary and meaningful. When they were thirsty, they carried water from the river. When some became old or sick, the others helped and gave to them freely. Their work followed the seasons and they knew the rhythm of Nature well. The time to plant, the time to harvest, the time to prepare for Winter. They did not yet envy the freedom of the bird, for they were still free in spirit themselves, and still understood all the ways of the bird, and did not yet wish to trade. It was easy to teach their children, for the lessons were simple and clear, and the benefits of their education were obvious and unquestionable.

The point of balance they had found was perhaps the closest thing to paradise that can be found for mankind. An equilibrium between the physical and the spiritual. A place where the fruits of their work fed both body and soul. They had arrived at their destination without even realizing it. 

And from that place of greatest perfection, they struck off again to explore the path even further, not yet realizing that the pursuit of even more comfort and material things would one day eat away at the very souls of their children's children.

And now, here we are, in this 21st century, so far down that path that our ancestor's trailhead can no longer be seen but can only be imagined. It survives only as folklore. But its echoes still ring in our hearts, if we care to listen. We all sense the truth of it, and we all feel the emptiness of wandering so far from paradise.

An Old Leaf Falls from My Tree

All things have their season. Like buds on a tree, new things arise in our lives from time to time. At first, we must nurture them, but as they grow and mature, they nurture us in turn, until one fine Autumn day, after having served us so well for so long, they inevitably fall away.

For more than two decades I worked for a society that was founded by international bankers and financial institutions. My full-time job was to help them succeed. I remember how excited I was to be hired by this society all those years ago, and how challenging and interesting the work was. How I nurtured my new, budding career, and believed in the great cause in which I was engaged. The projects I worked on helped international bankers across the planet, and they in turn did their part to create the global economy that we see today.

My last day on the job is December 31, 2014.

I've accepted an "early retirement" package. Inside the package, there is money. But the outer wrapping is the real interesting part. Yes, there are hints of "Thank you!", but the more prominent message is, "It is time for you to leave". The calculation has been made at corporate headquarters, and I am now a net liability. My work is no longer nurturing the corporation and must be shed.

And so it goes. The leaf of my career in financial telecommunications is sealed off from the corporate tree, and has already started to yellow. But there are new buds forming, too, and the life force in my own tree has never felt stronger. Dropping the old leaf of my corporate job is making room for new growth, and I'm excited about these new buds, and thankful that I am so blessed at this stage of my life.

As I ponder all the opportunities for change in my life that this moment brings, I realize there's nothing about my lifestyle that I want to change. In fact, I appreciate even more the benefits of tent living. That my living expenses are nearly zero, and that I have virtually no maintenance, and that I can easily relocate, and that I'm living a virtually stress-free life close to nature.

So as I fashion my dinghy and prepare to leave the mother ship, I'm happy that I don't have too much cargo in the hold. Instead, I can just gather a few things and paddle my canoe into the sunset.

Wait a minute, or is that a sunrise?

On Being in Debt

The economic systems of today rely upon credit. I'm no economist, but it's obvious that if all of us had to pay as we go, then our resulting economic systems would be unrecognizable compared to today. Expensive consumer goods, like cars and houses, would have to be purchased with cash. Business growth would slow to a crawl without outside financing. And governments would have no choice but to balance their budgets. It is precisely the billions of contracts and agreements between debtors and creditors that make our economic systems possible.

Debt is a powerful, powerful tool. With it, we can build cities and skyscrapers and businesses, on credit, and employ millions of people that produce goods and services to be sold to millions of other people, on credit. It's at the heart of our most predominant social structures. Can you imagine a society without debt? It would certainly not be anything like what we see today.

Interestingly, debt is also one of the very few areas in which we all agree, as a society, that one party may take the property of another. (I have found only two such social arrangement: debt and taxes.) In exchange for the enormous social benefits realized through debt, we have all agreed that creditors may rightfully take the property of debtors in case of delinquency, for such taking is for the greater good. (It is this "taking for the greater good" idea that is also at the heart of taxes.)

So debt is good for us all, right? With debt, we live a better life and are more able to raise a family and carry on as a species, right? But if debt is such a good idea, why don't we find it in Nature (for I've looked closely, and it's not to be found)? In Nature there is "giving" and "reciprocity" and perhaps "gratitude", which are sort of "debt-like", but I've not found "borrowing" and "owing" and "interest" and "collecting". And it should be there in Nature, shouldn't it? After all, debt is about acquiring "stuff", and all living creators require "stuff", right? Wouldn't the bird enjoy a nicer home? The squirrel, more nuts through Winter? Or is there a downside to debt that we overlook? A downside so enormous that it disrupts the very fabric of Nature and therefore cannot be part of Nature's design?

To find the downside, we need only look as far as the human spirit. Because while debt feeds the body, it also starves the spirit. By acquiring all the new things that we desire, we leave less room to appreciate what we already have. By having all of our physical needs met so easily, we leave less room to help each other in times of trouble. By being dependent upon our economy for our very sustenance, we lose our faith that Nature would also provide, if we gave her the chance. We become slaves to the social systems that we have created, and we feel vulnerable and helpless.

Maybe that's why debt is not part of Nature's design. Better to live simply and have faith that all the things needed by the body will be provided. So the bird builds her simple nest each year, and it is enough. And the squirrel gathers his nuts in Autumn, and it is enough. They enter into no contracts, and they are free. And they know that Nature is a good and fair partner. One that never charges interest.

Land Search Update

Have you ever wished for something, got your wish, then realized that what you had in the first place was actually better? Yeah, me too. I've done a lot of that throughout my life. Always wanting something better. More, more, more! You'd think I would have learned by now, but apparently the lessons are not over.

Last October, I started searching for a new place to live. It was an exciting and interesting process that took me in a lot of different directions. I met some new people and learned a lot along the way. I especially learned a lot about myself thanks to a few dear friends that helped guide me along, keeping me on track.

My search led me to a 70+ acre parcel of raw land, surrounded by hundreds of acres of more raw land. Exactly what I had wanted, right? Or was it. Wait a minute, why did I want to move again? What was I looking for exactly? This place was beautiful and wild and essentially untouched, but also very remote, and I would be very isolated. I would have very few visitors. I would be snowed in deep in the Winter. And I would have to "up my game" significantly. Four-wheel drive. A gun in case of bear. Water from the stream. And although the idea of living there was a little exciting, I mainly felt apprehension.

I'm going to visit that spot one more time, and wander more, and try to get a better feel for it. I won't make a final decision until I do that, but I sure did like getting back home to "civilization" after visiting that spot, and I'm having serious second thoughts on the whole matter.

Farewell Winter

It's the first week of March and there's still plenty of snow at my place. The cold, white hand of Winter still holds on. It was an impressive season. There were very few strong winds at my place, thankfully, but plenty of cold days, and lots of snow. My rain fly took a lot of punishment and will have to finally be replaced before next Winter. She's served me well and will get me through Autumn, but she will not survive another Winter, especially another Winter like this one.

I underestimated the amount of firewood I would need to get me through this Winter...twice. And for the third time I am down to only a few days supply, but this time I won't resupply. Part of me wants one, last cold night before Spring. I want to feel it all and remember it well. This has been a strong, wonderful Winter. One to be respected. And so I bid you farewell, Winter! Until next year.

A Spiritual Place

Up until now, I've viewed tent living as a physical endeavour. I've focused on the practical side of physical life. Keeping my body safe and comfortable. Fashioning my systems to be simple and functional in order to meet the needs of my body. Along the way, I've had hints that my home is a spiritual place, too. But only quiet, subtle hints. Or maybe they were indeed loud shouts instead of quiet whispers, and I just wasn't listening very well.

Now, as I enter my third year of living this way, I have begun to see this as more of a spiritual journey than a physical one. Remarkably, the spiritual changes that have begun to happen lately are far more interesting, and far more intense, than heating with wood and carrying water and lighting with oil lamps. I have achieved some sort of alignment in the physical world, which has now left me free to explore the spiritual side of my life, which I must admit has been long neglected.

It's clear to me that living in a tent pleases God. In fact, I don't believe he thinks it's unusual at all. After all, the rest of his creation lives simply, too. And they, by his design. So if I am to create a home, should I not look to his creation for clues in the matter?

I've looked for those clues, and apparently I have done something right in living this way. My home is a humble place. I have no debt. I do not claim that I "own" the land on which it sits. I am safe and live a healthy life. Yes, I am a bit cold in Winter, and a bit warm in Summer, but my home serves me, and not the other way around. And so it is with all the other homes built by Life on this planet. (Well, with the exception of many of the homes built by Man.) All of God's creatures build homes in accordance with their nature, from nests to burrows, from ant hills to bee hives. And all share many of the same attributes. Simplicity. Economy. Aesthetics. So I'm very pleased with my home.

In resolving my physical problems, I think I've made room for the spiritual. I've never been religious. In fact, I've been atheist. But now I pray, and I know my prayers are heard, and answered. I can hear now, and I can see. I've never felt such grace, and I am overwhelmed by it all.

Recipe for Fried Cabbage and Lobster

Fried Cabbage and Lobster

 This recipe make enough for two, but I ate it all myself in one sitting!

1. Heat about three tablespoons of coconut oil in a large skillet over low heat.
2. Thinly slice one small head of cabbage. Put in pan and slowly fry until tender, stirring regularly.
3. Once tender, turn heat up to medium-high and fry cabbage until slightly brown, stirring constantly.
4. Stir in liberal amounts of garlic powder, curry, Worcestershire, and Asian fish powder.
5. Move cabbage to the perimeter of the pan, freeing up the center.
6. With heat still on medium-high, add four tablespoons of coconut oil to center of pan.
7. Add 8 oz of lobster chunks (imitation works well) to center of pan and quickly fry for just a minute or two, stirring constantly.
8. Remove from heat. Add Asian peanut sauce to lobster and stir.

Enjoy!

Cold Winter Winds

January is the most challenging Winter month in Virginia. Overnight temperatures can dip down into single-digits, and Winter storms bring in steady winds. That's a rough combination for a tent, where air infiltration is a big problem. Even though I've gone to great lengths to seal the gaps in my canvas, the material itself is so porous that the wind comes right through, causing my candles to flicker as they dance in the cold air. On nights like that I burn a hot stove, so wood consumption doubles and burn time is cut in half. And I have to wake up every few hours to stoke the fire.

As I snooze through such nights, I let the temperature on my face act as an alarm clock, the rest of me being cozy and warm beneath my blankets. I've found that when my face gets cold enough, say at around 30 degrees or so, I usually wake up. And just in time to add fuel to the stove, there being a nice, hot bed of coals still glowing. Of course, there have been times when I've slept through and have woken up to temperatures in the teens, and dying coals that needed kindling and care. I always knew when that had happened as soon as I awoke, and frowned and grumbled to myself for having slept through, knowing that I would be up a bit longer tending to the stove.

January's cold has also worked to acclimate my body. Forty degrees is now quite comfortable, so some evenings I'll heat with just propane, satisfied to wake up to a 30 degree morning.

I'm enjoying Winter now, having passed through the December doldrums. February is just weeks away, then Spring, then the heat of Summer when I'll wish for January.

Fire Safety

From a fire safety point-of-view, my home is a small, flammable space with open flames everywhere. The tent itself is only 12' x 14', and in it I have a double-bed, a kitchen area, a bathing area, a toilet, two chairs, some small shelves and tables, and at this time of year, a wood stove. It's packed pretty tight, and even though the canvas has been treated for fire resistance, I'm still surround by a lot of flammable material.

I light with oil lamps and candles, cook with propane, and heat with propane and wood, so there are always open flames about. And it being a small, crowded space, the likelihood for accidents increases. One false move, and an oil lamp falls to the floor or the propane heater gets knocked over. Or worse, a failure of the tent frame, a fallen limb, or an accidental bump could dislodge the stove pipe from the wood stove leading to thick smoke and open flames within the tent.

So here are my fire safety tips for tent living:

1. Don't live in a tent! It's dangerous!

Okay, if you ignore that rule (like I do), then at least:

1. Install a carbon monoxide detector. This is a must! Carbon monoxide accumulates quickly in a small space like a tent. My CO detector goes off routinely, so it has probably already saved my life.
2. Install a smoke detector. This is more for peace-of-mind, for example, when I leave my wood stove burning through the night. But my smoke detector has also alerted me to sooty wicks and slight obstructions in the stove pipe.
3. Keep a fire extinguisher handy. Fortunately, I haven't had to use mine yet, but I've had some pretty close calls when I've almost pulled it out.
4. Prevention. Arrange your space so as to minimize accidents. For example, place oil lamps on stable surfaces out of the main traffic flow, and avoid setups where you have to reach over an open flame to retrieve objects.
5. Have a fire plan. This is perhaps the most important. Imagine everything that could go wrong, and plan your response ahead of time. For example, what would you do if a tree limb ripped off the stove pipe and knocked over the wood stove? Or an oil lamp fell to the floor and broke? Or you smelled propane? Or your hair or clothes caught fire? And so on.

Please think about these things, be safe, and enjoy the thrill of tent living!