This weekend, I found myself out in the middle of… somewhere.
What does that mean? Well, it wasn’t exactly the middle of “nowhere” — certainly there were homesteads and a few small businesses — but it was sufficiently remote to feel like “nowhere” more than a little bit.
Well, okay, I did know where I was, though I’d be unable to recognize it without having been led there and knowing where I was headed. I don’t have the parcel outline handy, but most of what’s shown in this areal photo below, from the lake to the nearest roads south and west and I think extending north a bit past the frame as well (but not east of the lake), belongs to a dear friend of mine. He has a lovely cabin (yellow marker with star) on said lake and we were there to visit. The area in general is very rural – exactly how rural? Well, we stopped for snacks and ice cream at a local place and more than half the vehicles there were off-road/farm runabouts rather than automobiles, bikes, or motorcycles.
At some point during our visit, while we were tromping around the property, which as you can see is pretty big — I think he said 180 acres, though much of that is the lake — he said something that may have life-changing consequences.
He invited us to live on the property in the tiny house. And he offered amazing terms. Our costs would be extremely low and we’d have access to quite a bit of land. He uses the parcel as vacation property, essentially, spending a fair bit of time there in the summer, mostly in the area of the cabin and in/on the lake itself (boating, fishing, wind surfing, etc). The woods are largely left wild. We explored a couple of spots (red markers A and B) that would be particularly well-suited for our homestead.
There is a lot that makes this land very appealing. We don’t have to buy it (so if it turns out this doesn’t work out, getting out of it is very easy). It’s beautiful and decently suited to our needs without requiring much modification. It has this fabulous lake. We wouldn’t need to deal with zoning issues, etc., since the land is so big and so private, we’d just be there. The town itself is so rural, they’re unlikely to care at all about any of it, even if they knew. My friend would be keen to have someone he can trust on the property year round, who when he’s not there can check in on the cabin and respond to anything urgent, should anything urgent arise. Other pluses include his being fine to all the things we have so far discussed, including agriculture, solar/well/compost toilet, building a workshop. There’s even decent internet service (to my surprise, given the location), such that I could work remotely. At first I was thinking that wasn’t so great, but you know, I’ve been working remotely for 3 months now — what difference does it make if I’m 20 miles from the office (now) or much more? I don’t go to the office.
So why not just jump in and say yes? Well, the very-ruralness of it means (a) potentially feeling very isolated, (b) the people who live in the area have wildly different sensibilities and politics than me (doesn’t make them bad people but does make our common ground pretty narrow), (c) the things I take for granted now, like being 3 miles or less from everything I could possibly want simply would not be the case. That means no dashing out to HD or some-such to quick get a part. That kind of thing would become a journey rather than a jaunt. Same goes for restaurants and anything beyond general-store level groceries. It would be a major lifestyle change on top of the lifestyle change that comes with our entry into tiny living. It wouldn’t just be the homstead concept that changed, but the environment, too. Much moreso than the farmy lands we were previously exploring, which still had a lot in common with civilization as we know it. The other thing is the location. It’s a couple of hundred miles from what’s now home. That’s a near total social life reset to make such a move. That’s a Big Deal.
Lots (ha! see what I did there?) to think about on this one. It sure is easy in terms of getting on the land and being there. About as easy as it could possibly be, with the exception of the distance from here to there. It’s easy to undo — no commitment to stay and since we’d not own it, no obligation to sell it should we decide it doesn’t work for us. But the degree of life change it costs is high, even as it is relatively easy to undo (inasmuch as interstate moving could ever be) should we wish to. Can’t beat the price.
Much to ponder as construction continues.