Buy The Book!

I finally finished my book. It's available here on Amazon.

The book chronicles my entire three-year experience living in a 12' x 14' canvas wall tent. It contains practical tips on all aspects of long-term tent living including downsizing, finding land, staying comfortable throughout the seasons, and living without electricity and plumbing. The book is also a memoir of my spiritual journey as I discovered the true meaning of simple living. How I adjusted to the hardships and eventually found peace and contentment in the woods. There were struggles, too. Struggles with neighbors, struggles with county officials, and most importantly, struggles within myself. Living outside the norm wasn't always easy, but it opened my eyes to the world around me, and helped me find my place in it all.

I hope you enjoy your copy of "Tent Living: Living the Good Life in a Canvas Home"

Why I Left My Tent

I had always told myself that if I ever decided to leave my tent, I would move out in Spring or Autumn, never Winter. I would move out when the weather was at its best for tent living, and never let Winter's cold factor into my decision to leave. So what did I end up doing? I moved out in January, right in the middle of Winter. Not because it was too cold to continue with tent living, but because it was time to leave. It was time to rejoin society and start the next chapter in my life.

At the time that I left my tent, I had been living in it for about three years and had fully assimilated to the lifestyle. I had a comfortable home and a simple, peaceful life. I had just retired and was financially secure. But with all of those blessings, I was also completely unsettled. Retirement had disrupted my thoughts, forcing me to consider the question that so many of us ask, "What should I be doing with my life?" Signing my retirement papers was like cashing in a winning lottery ticket. No more financial worries! Nothing but leisure time! Great! But, now what?

And it wasn't just retirement that was disturbing me. Something else had been bothering me for some time. With each passing day, I had gotten further and further away from society. I felt more connected to the birds and the squirrels now, and less comfortable with my fellow humans. When you live a simple life, surrounded by Nature, everything in the world begins to make a lot of sense. Everything, that is, except for human society, with all of its self-inflicted pain and foolishness. I was becoming less and less tolerant of my fellow humans, and that was unsettling, too.

In January of 2015, it had all come to a head. I had been given the gift of total freedom and at the same time was on the verge of becoming a hermit! I felt lost and confused, and my instincts told me to retreat back to society. Perhaps it would have been better to leave my tent for different reasons, but I just wanted to go back home. Back to my fellow humans. I knew that it would be difficult. That I would have to work hard to remember what I had learned in the tent, and that over time I would probably come to view human society as "natural" once again. I was sure that staying in the tent would disconnect me further from society, and I was also sure that rejoining society would most probably disconnect me from Nature, but it was time. Time to go back home, before I slipped too far away.

On Being Normal

It's a beautiful Autumn day, just past noon. I'm pretty sure the sky is clear because I see crisp shadows cast upon the fallen leaves in my back yard as the Sun's rays make their way through bare November tree limbs. If it's not clear, then it's mostly sunny anyway, I suppose. It should be a good day for birds, too. They're probably pretty active on a fine day like today, but I really can't be sure because their songs are muted by the R-13 wall insulation and double-pane windows that keep me so comfortable this time of year. And even if that weren't the case, the dishwasher is running in the kitchen so all I can hear is its "swish" and "rumble" as I sit at my dining room table typing on a fully-charged laptop that is plugged into the wall and connected wirelessly to a router that is cabled into Comcast's high-speed Internet at $80/month. But anyway, the birds are probably happy today, this typical day in the life of a typical American in the year 2016.

Normal. It's all very normal. I got up this morning, not to the sound of birds chirping at dawn as I did in my tent days, but because I was just done sleeping. I had no idea what time it was so I walked into the kitchen and glanced at the digital clock on the electric stove. It was close to 7:30am. The birds would have finished their morning songs some time ago, but that thought never crossed my mind because that's not something that normal people think about. I looked out the window and wondered what the temperature was. I don't have a thermometer hanging outside my door like I did in my tent days because it doesn't really matter what it's like outside anyway. What matters is the temperature inside my house, which is always right at 70 degrees, maintained automatically, day and night, Summer or Winter.

I've been out of my tent for nearly two years now. It took me that much time to decide to start writing again. I had to figure out what I wanted to say, but I think I've got a pretty good idea now. And I think this Tent Living blog is the place to say it, not because I still live in a tent, but because tent living was but one chapter of a story that I'm ready to continue now. It's the story of the multitude of social constructs that mankind has created for themselves, and our capacity to accept them. It's about the struggle within each of us to reconcile two inner voices. Two voices that I believe each of us hears, in some degree, for it's a human condition and we are all much the same in that regard. It's about the struggle to find internal peace and happiness while living a normal life. To find beauty and contentment and meaning is a man-made world. To shine brilliantly right smack dab in the middle of being normal.

"Farewell, Aquarius"

There’s a scene in the movie, “Apollo 13”, in which the three astronauts, Haise, Swigert, and Lovell, are approaching Earth for reentry. They crawl back into the command module from the lunar module. The lunar module, Aquarius, was just a small, frail craft, but to them, it was much more. “She sure was a good ship”, one of them says as they jettison the craft. “Farewell, Aquarius, and we thank you”.

I lived in a canvas wall tent for three years. It was a wonderful time in my life. The tent itself was just a large piece of fabric, but to me, it was much more. It was my home. It’s where I experienced things that I will never forget. It’s where I regrouped and found my bearings. It’s where I found peace and solitude during troubled times. It’s where I learned how simple life could be. Where I found the rhythms of Mother Earth and heard most clearly from God.

And now, having learned a great deal from it all, it is time to return to my fellow humans and live a more “normal” life among them.

I’m bringing the lessons of tent living with me. The knowledge that we have all been given everything we need to live a happy life, if only we can appreciate those blessings. The understanding that my life is not to be spent living in the woods by myself but rather among the wonderful people that I already know, and those that I have still to meet. The people that I love, and will love, and who love me.

So I’m paddling out of my calm and peaceful cove, and reentering the mainstream of human society, with all of its sharp bends and turbulent eddies. The rough waters of human society used to trouble me a great deal, but now I’m eager to embrace the rapids and paddle alongside the rest of humanity.

I know what it’s like to live a simple life. It’s wonderful, and the peace and security of that lifestyle is always there, for each of us, if ever we wish to live it. It’s with that experience and knowledge that I now return to mainstream society. We are all a bit crazy, and all so beautiful, and by far the most interesting creatures on the planet. So farewell, my canvas tent, and I thank you. I’m gonna go hang out with my fellow humans now.

 

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.

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Bad Neighbors, Part 4

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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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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