Last night there was a fairly significant solar storm, and supposedly the Northern Lights could be seen as far south as ... well, far south.
Stuff - Garmin handheld GPS (15)
If you asked me two years ago if I was an “outdoorsy” kind of guy, I'd have said no. And honestly, if you asked today I'd give the same answer.
I suppose once you take on cabin-in-the-woods living you have to own up to a certain amount of outdoorsy-ness, but most of what I do is aimed at making me more comfortable in nature, not just appreciating it. I can't stand tents; long backcountry hikes don't really do it for me; and at the end of the day I am a fan of our new-fangled climate-controlled homes.
But as I've learned to embrace being outdoors, I've also learned about an awesome side perk: Gear.
Whatever your adventure is – hiking, rock climbing, van-living or going it off-grid – there's just certain stuff you need. Stuff that needs to work, rather than look pretty all the time. Stuff that gets used, banged up, dropped and broken and fixed and used again and again.
Gear.
Turns out this is a direction, not a location. That, or I actually bought land in Russia.
This isn't really a gear review blog, but there are some items I use over and over again – things which have become essential, which work, which solved a problem or make life better or whatever. And the little eTrex 10 GPS device from Garmin is definitely one of those items.
You see, I lost the fourth pin. Two of my property markers are on the road, and easy to locate. Another, I'd forged a wide path up the eastern property line to reach. But that last marker was elusive – I'd found it walking the property with the real estate agent, groping our way through rose scrub and snow. But since I closed on the purchase, I hadn't been able to find the pin and it was driving me nuts.
At one point I'd sworn to cut a path all around the property, to each pin. But I got sidetracked on the last leg and cut a nice trail about 20 feet into a neighbor's land – I'd feel bad, but you can tell no one has been out here in many years.
The survey map had some coordinate-looking numbers on it, but entering them into Google Maps brought up a location somewhere in Siberia.
It turned out, the numbers were not locations but directions – bearings. So for about $80 I bought this little introductory GPS device, stood on the third pin, plugged in a heading and distance, and started bumbling about.
Pin found, in about 4 minutes.
I have no sense of direction. Combined with the overgrown, neglected state of this land, it can be difficult to navigate. But using the little GPS, I've started creating a map. There are open groves on the land, guest campsites, the property markers , things like that – when I find them I just drop a pin with the Garmin, and then add them to a custom Google Map of the land.
It's a work in progress, but it's really helped me have a better understanding of where I am on the land, how much space I have, how close I am to the neighbors … and now I can find all the pins.
The eTrex 10 was cheap and that's why I bought it. The user interface is basic, antiquated and awful. But it gets the job done.
A Floor (14)
Pay no attention to the apparent printer I have hooked up to a vintage typewriter. Just a little side project of mine …
Instead, check out that awesome floor. Because you know what sucks? Walking around on rough, dirty underfloors. It took all day to do this because I looked at the most efficient methods and then just did something different.
Next up, insulation and walls.
Cabin delivery (13)
The cabin arrived. Three little words, but a sea-shift in life.
The Hum and The Roar (#12)
I came back to D.C. for a week, while waiting on the cabin delivery. That cat and I drove through three hours of what I can only describe as monsoon-like rains, a well-timed departure from a storm I expect wiped out my camp and would have confined us to the van for days.
Timing is everything.
I sat on the back porch of a friend's apartment, working and drinking wine, and listened. People say sirens are the background noise in cities, but really it's more similar to the woods than that. It's air conditioners, at least in the summer. They hum, they never stop, like a mechanized version of the wind that roars through the all the birch trees.
Strange to be here. A Tuesday that feels like a Saturday. Cheap red wine and a wicked long chef's knife, lazily working on a story while reading postcards from the 1920s.
'He pays his taxes and he does what he wants. That's freedom.' (#11)
With a little luck, this should be the last really boring photo of trees and dirt.
Rosy on the road. Also a boring picture. It's a driveway.
The excavation work is finished and the final site check went fine. Cabin delivery scheduled for next week. This long process is coming to a close.
When I pulled up to the land on Thursday, the Excavation Guy was just finishing it up. I had a road, a pad for the cabin, and a large mound of dirt. Seriously, if you need dirt, just give me a shout. What does one do with dirt?
Honestly, I feel a little bad. For the last month I've been enjoying this unspoiled piece of forest. Now I'm the dude that went and spoiled it.
Alas. Whatever it is they say about baking a cake. Omelets. I've got 175 feet of drive and a thick row of trees between me and The World. Let the One Man Dance Parties commence.
People around here love to talk, and so Excavation Man was just thrilled when I started asking questions about the area. I've mentioned before that zoning – lack of – was one of the reasons I initially considered Hector. Somehow we got on the topic, and he was hilarious.
“We've manged to keep zoning out. You don't want people coming in and telling you what you can and can't do. They'd have run poor George out of town years ago if we had zoning. But he pays his taxes and he does what he wants. That's freedom.”
Apparently George “doesn't have two nickels to rub together” but he “keeps to himself and if has beer on a Friday night he's tickled."
"We have a lot of hermits around here,” he summed up.
Now +1?
I was in line at the bank and overheard this exchange when the guy in front of me stepped up to the teller. He was a big dude, with a ripped t-shirt and an easy manner.
Teller: How are you today.
Man: Confused. My former boss said I could cash this here.
Slides over check
Teller: Your former boss was correct, as long as you have a drivers license.
Man: I have a state ID from Florida.
Teller examines ID.
Teller: That's a lot of holograms.
Man: Yeah, Florida makes it impossible to counterfeit their stuff anymore.
#truestory
Rain & "Two Weeks" (#10)
If you leave a bulldozer on my land, I get to play with it. Only seems fair.
I came home the other night (and the camp now feels as much like "home" as anywhere else), to find a bulldozer sitting on my front yard.
Progress! Site work was slated to begin the next day.
But after perfect weather for a week -- 72 and sunny, breezy, perfect weather for either working outside or sitting at Two Goats drinking beers -- it started to rain. And of course, it started to rain on the day excavation work was supposed to begin.
I write about energy infrastructure all the time, and delays and cost-overruns are more the norm than the exception. So I suppose there's no reason to think my own project, with its minor set of permits and contractors and budget, would be any different. But the weather is set to clear up in a few days, and site work should be done by the end of the week.
That said, if you've never seen The Money Pit ...
So yeah, two weeks ... Who knows. I'm trying to schedule delivery of the cabin as soon as possible. Woodtex came out and looked at the site and said everything looked pretty straightforward, so here's hoping. ...
My neighbor walked over last weekend. "You put your mailbox on the wrong side of the street," he said. I asked him how he knew, and he said "because I deliver the mail." Fair enough.
