Wet down the grass first

Cover the area with cardboard to smother the weeds

Soak the cardboard thoroughly

Layer compostable materials; wood chips first

A foot of rotted hay makes great sheet mulch

Top layer of seed-free wheat straw

Thoroughly water between each layer.

Because my soil is sand with very little organic material in the top two inches, it made more sense to me to build up a layer of organic materials as the planting medium for my raised beds. I will have great drainage underneath the beds due to the sand. I’m also willing to allow these beds to “cook” for as long as it takes to break down the chipped branches from the black pine tree we took down to provide more sun. But I placed those materials along the bottom layer of my “lasagna” so that the long-term “cooking” process won’t interfere unduly with the top layers. I can still plant shallow-rooted crops for the first year. However, these beds won’t be at their prime until the second or third year. The photos along the right detail the “lasagna” layers I used.

“Oh, Guru!” he pleaded, trembling with excitement and exhaustion. “I have climbed all this way through dangerous passages for one reason only. Life seems overwhelming with the vastly different choices and directions one can take. Each of the many spiritual paths advise a man to do something different. You alone seem to be content and at peace with yourself. Please share with me the secret to happiness! What must I do transform my life?”

The wise hermit sat in silence for sometime. “Only two rules,” he finally replied.

“Rule Number One: BEGIN.”

“Rule Number Two: CONTINUE.”

“When you find yourself confused, uncertain what to do next, go back to Rule Number One.”

What sage advice for my husband and I as we contemplated the huge task of transforming our property — and thereby ourselves — from an abused dumping ground to a Garden of Eden and Paradise for our family! Where do you begin when your to-do list is entirely comprised of major projects? How do you prioritize projects when all of them need to be tackled simultaneously and completed immediately? How do you make plans when there are so many unknowns and so much research remains to fill in the information gaps? Will any of these permaculture techniques we are reading about — but have never tried — really work for our situation and our site?

“BEGIN.”

Garden Plan on graphing paper

“CONTINUE.”

Alrighty, then! To plan my site, I’ll need to consider the sun, wind, and rain patterns and the interrelationships of elements already there, such as trees and outbuildings and neighboring properties. Permaculture delineates a site into 5 zones, where zone 1 is closest to the home and zone 5 is wilderness (whether that takes the form of a small patch or several acres). Permaculture design advises placing elements into zone 1 that are used the most frequently to encourage and enable intensive use. I can focus on zone 1 and leave the rest for later. I know that zone 1 needs to be defensible from wildfire, and therefore clear of fuels and kept green and moist near the home — a perfect siting for intensive gardens.

Garden perimeter in yellow plastic tape

But how to markup the future beds and paths? I don’t want to use plastic tape for that, too wasteful. Too bad this property doesn’t have any stones – all sandy soil as a former riverbank. As I cast about the grounds for a suitable natural resource, my eye fell upon the many large pine cones scattered under the pines. The cones are a nuisance, a tripping hazard as I walk around the site. Suddenly I realize that they would work great to temporarily markup the garden paths and beds! Then I can compost them along with the sheet mulching, a permaculture technique I plan to use to smother the weeds growing there now and to add organic nutrients to the soil. Perfect!

In the back of my mind, a worry began to form as to where I would find suitable mulching materials. I would need cardboard (plain brown, no plastic tape) to smother the weeds. I wanted to create a deterrent for underground critters digging up to the roots of my future garden plants; maybe hardware cloth? I’ve never seen a permaculture technique for discouraging these underground critters, but I knew from previous experience that I had to create some form of barrier or just kiss my crops good-bye. I would also need tons of organic material that will decompose within 6 months so that I could begin planting next spring. Where would I get that and how could I afford it? Then I’d need clean straw to layer on top… Stop! I was allowing my mind to create anxious confusion again.

Garden layout using pine cones

“CONTINUE.” All summer long I followed this simple outline of a plan and — surprise! — everything came together in a beautiful way. My husband found the cardboard at Costco, where he typically shops for supplies anyway. The hardware cloth was a bit spendy, so we bought what we could and decided to forgo the rest of the beds for now. They can always be moved or improved later. Sure enough, neighbors knew about plenty of sources for rotting hay — though a roaming herd of elk beat us to one of the stockpiles of alfalfa and devoured the whole stack. The neighboring ranchers were only too happy to have us haul away their rotted hay for free, since they were just going to burn it all anyway in the fall. That was a win-win-win: for us, the rancher and the environment — fewer smoke particulates released into the atmosphere.

I was able to get one third of the garden prepared before snowfall. This turned out to be quite all right, because over the winter months I have been reading The Winter Harvest Handbook by Eliot Coleman. He has created an innovative system of moveable greenhouses that first protect spring crops, and then are moved to protect overwintering crops, yielding fresh produce all year long.

Load Of Wheat Straw

Now I know from my own experience that I don’t have to have all the “answers” beforehand. I can simply BEGIN and trust that each step will reveal more about what is required when I arrive. I can enjoy this marvelous journey undeterred by the niggling anxiety habits picked up over the years. Paradise is first and foremost an “inside job”.

CONTINUE!

My grandparents emigrated from Lebanon, when families there could no longer sustain themselves due to political and economic woes. My mother was born and raised in a U.S. city where her family struggled to keep body and soul together during the Great Depression. She remembers long lines waiting for rations of poor quality food. My father, on the other hand, lived in a tiny, economically pinched rural town, but everyone there at least had a garden, chickens and a pig in their yards; they scarcely knew there was a depression. Once the depression receded and the world wars were finally over, it seemed like boom times were on a roll that might never end. To my young parents, city life seemed far easier than country life, and was certainly more exciting and promising of adventure. Though my father could have known better, food security was no longer considered an issue worthy of concern.

Though my parents “owned” a house in the city, this did not engender a sense of place, since the norm (which my parents religiously followed) was to upsize every few years into a more “fashionable” neighborhood (greater debt) to increase their “social status” in the eyes of their peers. I sadly observed as my parents became virtual bio-robots enslaved by huge debts to soulless jobs that cut them off from the real world of Nature, breathing polluted air, drinking contaminated water, eating junk food, and calling that “the good life”.

While I was growing up, my parents never grew so much as a potted tomato plant on their patio, much less a garden. We seldom ate fresh vegetables anyway – Wonder Bread and the convenience of canned foods reigned supreme! I had no idea what garden plants even looked like, since raising your own food was not on the curriculum of a “modern” education (unless you went on to college and chose to study agribusiness methods of raping the Earth). In fact, schools offered very few practical skills at all – we were successfully “programmed” to be cogs in the industrial machine of modern capitalism. The subtle message of the propaganda called “history” drummed into us in school was that the less we questioned authority and our lot in life, the better for the “stability” of society and ultimately for our “happiness”. The carrot dangling before our noses was the fantasy that we, too, could be “successful” and make a lot of money if we just worked hard enough (and did not rock the boat!)

I had resigned myself to this unreality, believing that those in power called the shots and that the best I could do was to stay under the radar. I scarcely noticed as this deadening worldview seeped into my consciousness from a young age, resulting over time in a numbing powerlessness. My meek acceptance of everyday injustices just felt “normal”.

That is, until I read The Ringing Cedars books about Anastasia, a Russian mystic living in the remote Siberian forest. After studying her ideas, I now understand that my rootlessness and powerlessness stem from the fact that most families around the globe have never had a domain that we can claim in perpetuity on which to sustain ourselves that no one can take away from us. No one in my family has ever experienced a deep and abiding love of the land, of Nature, nor the wonder of the miracle of Life.

Now I clearly see the injustice of having to pay “ransom” for land with the ever-present threat of its seizure for not participating in the economic system as demanded. I clearly see the insidious agenda behind our modern “lifestyles”: the continual enrichment of the wealthy at the expense of the rest of Earth’s inhabitants. The false, human-concocted system of monetary economics has replaced natural, resource-based economics and is designed to keep the common people too impoverished, downtrodden and distracted to ask pertinent questions or to fight back.

Isn’t it curious that those who interpret the Bible literally and try to live according to its dictates have overlooked the model of life presented in its first chapter? They have never cognized that Adam and Eve left PARADISE, which was a GARDEN right here on Earth, where all their needs were naturally met. They have never cognized that we can return to Paradise as we leave behind the addictive pursuit of “knowledge,” which is really overstimulation of the mind obscuring the heart. We can restore the Garden of Eden one garden at a time, learning to become stewards of this beautiful Earth, reconnecting with God through Nature, the manifestation on Earth of God’s Thought.

I know. This proposal sounds too simplistic. Dead-on-arrival.

Except that Russians are already materializing Anastasia’s Dream in their Motherland one garden at a time. Private gardens in Russia produce a whopping 56% of the country’s produce! Citizens are tackling the oppressive sovereignty of their government one unjust law at a time by forming new political parties and campaigns. They are restoring Community, transitioning into living in greater harmony with Nature and one another one cooperative settlement at a time, by taking over and restoring wasteland and abandoned towns. Anastasia’s Vision is even expanding beyond Russia’s borders.

Imagine the possibilities…!

When most of the members of the group engage in this initial discussion as peers, viewing one another as workable human beings, then we come out of this initiation with feelings of solidarity and camaraderie. We feel self-confident, open to what comes next. This happens more frequently in spontaneous groups outside of any organizational context.

On the other hand, when the initial conversation has moments of “one-upmanship” (an attempt by one or more persons to be seen as “one-up” in status, forcing the others into the “one-down” position), then many of us are triggered into anxiety and self-doubt. We believe we must hide our feelings of inadequacy or uncertainty about how to proceed. In order to protect against potential attacks to our self-esteem, we close ourselves off to varying degrees. I have experienced this outcome most often in an organizational or family context, where power and inequality are the norms reinforced by the hierarchy.

The “ground rules” thus laid, the group has reached a definite fork in the road: what to do about leadership and decision-making? Depending on the task, each person brings to the table expertise ranging from novice to expert, and a temperament ranging from shy and self-effacing to aggressive and self-assertive. To get to know one another and to explore possibilities, questions about the task are asked aloud and proposals aired to get the discussion going – and soon someone will begin to emerge as the person having the most “answers”.

In peer groups where there is more mutual respect, answers tend to be expressed from genuine experiential knowledge, tested and honed out in the field. The relative “weight” of such opinions is greater, having a distinctive persuasive quality. The group feels free enough to creatively brainstorm and safe enough to give and receive feedback on the various proposals without taking it personally and feeling judged. Once the group has ferreted out the person with the most experience and expertise, people begin to behave towards that person as the leader to whom they direct questions and readily act upon suggestions offered. Often there is no formal assignment; there is simply a smooth transition as people self-organize into roles as the group moves into action. Such a group can just as fluidly look to someone else as the leader for the next task requiring a different type of expertise. The upshot is that in a group of peers, a leader is more frequently chosen by merit.

In the atmosphere of one-upmanship, on the other hand, more energy may be spent on covert efforts to jockey for recognition and authority rather than genuine problem solving. Instead of experienced-based answers, the proposals may consist of two parts arrogance to one part hearsay, delivered with sufficient bluster to convince those who are none the wiser. Even with the presence of able “BS detectors” in the group, depending on the degree to which their self-confidence has been undermined by self-doubt, they may allow themselves to be dominated by the person with the highest level of narcissistic need. Such a leader, unfortunately, may not be the person with the greatest degree of merit; just the most aggressive. Those with the greater expertise and experience may allow themselves to be overridden by the bluster. The leader may continue to assert this power role regardless of the situation, the task at hand or the skills needed.

Depending on the balance of the group members, I have seen myself flip-flop both ways – as feeling self-confident and capable, offering my experiential knowledge and legitimate expertise; or feeling inadequate and clumsy, exaggerating my knowledge and adding bluster for defense. I am still surprised at how difficult it is to remain true to my principles and how easy it is to be triggered into defensiveness and pretense. There is no doubt that the structure of the group exerts enormous influence on the outcome. The experience of working with a self-organized group is so satisfying, I had to wonder: is it possible to extend the model of fluid, merit-based leadership between peers to a larger community of people and for a longer duration than just one project?

In the process of searching for an intentional community to join over the past two decades, I have been struck by the number of communities – in all parts of the world – which were originally founded on consensus-only decision making, that over time have evolved toward a system of councils and/or functional leaders chosen by merit. (See Lost Valley Educational Center as an example of this evolution which they call “sociocracy”.) It appears that consensus-only communities, where everyone laboriously makes every decision together and one dissenting person can hold the entire group hostage, have merely swung the pendulum to the opposite side where, ironically, an overt dictator has simply been swapped for one that wears sheep’s clothing. The idea of consensus is understandably an appealing alternative to the ubiquitous hierarchies and dictatorships that characterize so much of family, social and corporate life. The pent-up need for all voices to be heard and concerns weighed through genuine dialog is a driving force behind the intentional community movement. Unfortunately, in that passionate swing of the pendulum, the middle ground of self-organization and merit-based, distributed leadership has inadvertently been missed.

Psychological research into the phenomenon now known as “fundamental attribution error” affirms that situations have more influence on how people behave than intrinsic characteristics of the people involved. In other words, hierarchical structures breed power struggles whereas the same people relating to one another as peers can produce cooperative behavior. It makes sense, then, that a change in organizational structure and culture may indeed produce the desired results in and of itself.

Research into quantum physics shows that the universe, from our vantage point as observers, is itself a highly interactive, self-organizing entity. Once we people get out of our own way, this utterly natural behavior appears in us as well. In our perennial power struggles, it is sad to note how this self-organizing characteristic of the universe is nearly invisible to our heavily conditioned awareness.

For a fascinating deep-dive into these topics and how they apply to leadership, read Margaret Wheatley’s book, Leadership and the New Science. Her thesis, supported by multiple scientific disciplines, is that when people are left alone and trusted to exercise their innate intelligence, they inevitably self-organize into fluid, cooperative teams where the leader is simply the person who, upon seeing a need, steps forward to fulfill it, supported by others who also recognize the need. Meg does not merely write books and give talks about leadership – she walks her talk. She delegated to the staff at Berkana Institute, a non-profit she founded, the response-ability of organizing themselves to accomplish the organization’s mission rather than calling all the shots herself. In today’s world, that takes a great deal of courage and confidence in one’s hard-won convictions!

Meg believes that the hierarchical dinosaurs will eventually implode under their own weight. Systems based on the tired old command-and-control paradigm cannot be fixed. Instead, she is betting on the self-organizing abilities of small groups throughout the world who believe in egalitarian principles expressed through distributed, merit-based leadership to build alternative systems of networks which will be fully functioning and ready to take over from the dinosaurs. That’s a creative, science-based Vision of the New World Order that I can support!

When we have work parties at our family domain, this model proves itself over and over. I have experienced this model at work successfully in non-profit and educational organizations through committees, despite the hierarchies in place in those organizations. Beyond that is another story. I am not naively suggesting that this model can work at the national or even municipal levels, at least not yet. Government bodies, regulations and enforcement are still very much needed to reign in corporate greed for power and prestige and to protect our environment as the world brings about reform to these structures and transitions to something more workable. I am proposing that the Vision for a New World Order begins with the first step: small networked groups throughout the world that serve as working models of our future.

For a real-world example of self-organizing in action, consider the article Walking the Walk by Amy Dean, Truthout:

Asked what Fuerza Laboral takes from the organizing model of National People’s Action, the national coalition of which it is a member, Shagwert says, “Networking and constantly building leadership. It’s a real belief that everyone who belongs to your organization, or wants to belong, has the potential to take leadership.”

Gazing at Skookum Peak from the fields behind the log cabin, I reflected on the interesting twists and turns along the path that brought us here. I used to be proud of my obliviousness to what was happening on the world stage.  I disdained the political scene, sniffed contemptuously at the media, and eschewed watching television and reading newspapers with their relentless commercials.  But a nagging suspicion deep down in my subconscious mind, unformulated but growing in urgency, prompted me to take occasional sneak-peeks at the world situation.  Reading the headlines and listening to conversations amongst my friends got me wondering. What is “peak oil”?  What’s all the hubbub about the need for “food security”?  Corporations are somehow considered “people”? How is that relevant to my life?

Our log cabin Domain

I have a Russian native friend to thank for helping me break through my cynical apathy.  He shared a link to a video by Michael Ruppert, founder of Collapse-Net, who explained many political and economic concepts in plain English and in a way that I could FEEL the urgency — no, the TERROR of our situation.  My husband, Bob, felt the same way, which prompted us to do more and more research using so-called “alternative” (read: REAL) news and information sources. I learned about real economics from a Chilean economist, Manfred Max-Neef (here is a nice summary of Max-Neef’s 5 postulates of a real economy on Democracy Now!).

At the time we were living in a 2400 square foot home for which we owed $180,000 to a credit union that we had no hope of ever paying off before we died.  Thanks to the financial meltdown of 2008, we had lost $60,000 of equity we were counting on for our retirement nestegg.  What would happen to us should the economy collapse — as it did in Russia during Perestroika?  How would we survive if the trucks coming from the south could no longer get enough gasoline to ship food north, or it became too expensive? Suddenly food security was an all too-real concept!

At first we considered joining forces with the urban food security movements, such as Transition Towns.  This research opened our eyes to the vast wasteland of manicured lawns and vacant lots that could be growing food for urban residents, reducing reliance on imports.  We saw far too many suburban homes with land ranging from a half acre to 10 acres where there wasn’t so much as a flower garden, much less a vegetable garden or an orchard — what a waste of precious resources!

During this time I discovered permaculture, which I hadn’t realized until now is quite different from the organic gardening techniques with which I was already acquainted.  Permaculture is a set of ethics-driven principles for designing sustainable habitats, derived from direct observation of Nature, which are then applied to gardening — or any other human enterprise, for that matter.  Nature doesn’t till garden soil, for example, but I was still doing that. This whetted my appetite to learn more.

Thanks again to a tip from my Russian friend, I discovered The Ringing Cedars series of books about Anastasia, a Siberian mystic, whose story is told.  She believes that every family needs to have the opportunity to own their own “Kin’s Domain” of approximately 3 acres of land to farm sustainably for which they need not pay a “ransom” and which cannot be taken away from them for such infractions as non-payment of property taxes.  Now THAT is the kind of food security to which I aspire! Anastasia also takes permaculture to new heights through revealing ancient methods for approaching gardening as a means for communing with Nature and natural healing, not just for growing food.

The Russian people survived Perestroika with far less social upheaval than one would expect.  My Russia friend tells me that throughout all the ensuing chaos, including the devaluation of currency such that money became worthless overnight, combined with chronic shortages of food and goods, many families survived by growing their own food on small plots of land.  Today more than 56% of produce nationally is grown in similar small garden plots.  By those standards the U.S. is an underdeveloping country!

Bob and I came to the conclusion that urban food security, though necessary, was not the direction in which our hearts were leading us.  When we pictured the future well-being of our own adult children and contemplated the escalating global crises, the only course of action that made sense was to establish our own family domain — preferably in a neighborhood with people of like mind and heart. We needed to develop permaculture systems for year-round food production that our children could inherit — or if things get bad enough, they can simply join us.  Given the insecurity that mortgage debt induces, our domain would need to be paid for completely — no mortgage — and we’d need to have our systems set up before the global collapse.  No time to lose!

Back in April we had hoped to join Vedrica, an intentional community inspired by Anastasia’s ideas.  Our adventures exploring their community are the subject of earlier blog posts.  In the process, we came to two pivotal realizations, the most important being that we were not willing to compromise out goal to own land free and clear (Vedrica still has a large mortgage). In addition, we saw first hand that most people are simply not mature enough to handle the emotional demands of living in intentional community; we have all been crippled by our culture’s ego-centric socialization.  We therefore decided to purchase our own domain — while still networking with Vedrica, PEACH, and many other people striving for compatible visions. Our hope is that in time we can cultivate a true neighborhood among the people living nearby.

No matter how bad things appear, keep focused on your vision!

In June of 2011, after searching properties for months throughout the entire Northwestern U.S. in our price range of a meager $60,000 (sadly, all our remaining equity from the sale of our home), we purchased the only workable property we could find in Northeastern Washington state that could meet our needs and aims.  The 30-year-old log cabin on 9 acres had been abandoned, vandalized, ransacked and degraded by winter weather, badly smelling of mold. The fields had been used as horse pasture, which over time eliminated nearly all of the native species and invited in a host of invasive species.  We certainly have our work cut out for us to transform this abused property into a Family Domain worthy of the name! Overriding our concerns and the daunting challenges ahead of us, though, is gratitude that we found a place at all against the odds. Every journey begins with the first step!

The weather suddenly changed that evening as we sat around the camp fire with Vedrica’s current campers.  The storm front moved in quickly, darkening the star-studded skies, flashes of lightning and rumbling thunder still distant.  We hurried back to our pop-up tent trailer to beat the rain.  As I stepped inside, I glanced at the “restroom” that had been set up in the “Pioneers’ Place”.  Draped only on two sides with old sheets hung on branches tied together, there was no roof to protect one from the rain.  This makeshift arrangement had not proved too terribly inconvenient on our last visit when the precipitation was snow — quite cold, but at least snow can be easily brushed off.

Luckily my handy husband, Robert, had sympathized with my feminine foibles and had devoted time to constructing a Loveable Loo according to the detailed instructions outlined in the Humanure Handbook.   We brought along six additional cheerful yellow buckets, stopping to fill one with sawdust from the sawmill conveniently located at the entrance to the property on our way in.  The toilet fit perfectly in a corner of our pop-up.

Robert's Loveable Loo nestled in the pop-up tent trailer

Deep in the night I reluctantly crawled out of my warm sleeping bag into the bone-chilling damp night air.  The deafening sound of rain splatting on the plastic rooftop muffled any noise I was making.  But hey, I at least I was DRY!  No fear of bumping into bears or cougars or other creatures of the night!  Elated, I gratefully did my thing and covered the evidence with a generous heaping of sawdust.  (MUCH better than trying to hold it all night!)

Even after several days of consistent use by two people — #1 and #2 — the sawdust did its magic and prevented any odor from escaping, which was more than welcome while we were enclosed in the tight quarters of the tent trailer on a cold, rainy day.  My skepticism has permanently melted into broad smiles every time I use it.  The author, Joseph Jenkins, makes the case that our current polluting “septic” systems are the result of an irrational attitude by humanity towards its own waste.  I agree completely!

Of course, we have yet to construct a compost bin correctly designed to heat the pile so that undesirable pathogens are destroyed while returning the nutrients into usable garden compost.  No problem!  That’s why we brought so many buckets.  Joseph claims you can store the waste-filled buckets all winter and deal with them when the weather improves, if you prefer, though he processes his all year long.  He demonstrates in his videos that even in frigid weather the properly layered pile will maintain sufficient heat all through the winter.

The next evening we beat the rain and cold by moseying up to the Timberline Cafe in nearby Weippe for dinner.  I was feeling a bit self-conscious about my attire: two days in the same clothes, mud-covered muck boots, hair matted to my head from wearing a hat 24/7.   I needn’t have worried —  as we walked in I noticed Sonny stoking the humongous wood stove in his work clothes and muddy boots.   I smiled when I heard that the cafe’s main customers are other campers just like us, many of whom will camp all summer deep in the wilderness just past Pierce, the last civilized outpost for miles.   Sonny also informed us that the whole town heats with wood, including the businesses.

I used the ladies’ room before leaving — I couldn’t help but notice how strange to pee in our drinking water!  I confess, though, that I was glad to be able to wash my hands in RUNNING water — both at the same time!  :-)

Talking with Yura on our next visit confirmed my worst suspicions: he reluctantly admitted that he has indeed encountered bears — twice — and once with cubs between himself and the mother.  That’s a situation when bears may attack.  He kept his calm, raised his arms above his head to make his body look bigger, and backed away from the scene — and lived to tell the tale!  And young Oleg spotted two cougars on his walk back from where the school bus dropped him off.  And Joanna confirmed that rattlesnakes like to hang out on the main path down to the river.  Yep, these hills are alive with critters and that’s just the reality of the situation.  Encounters are inevitable.

So how do I feel about that?  Well, to put it in perspective, every day I risk life and limb when I climb into my little Toyota Corolla and drive 75 miles per hour down the freeway to work, and yet I think nothing of it.  Someone at home in the woods would consider us city folks to be more than a bit daft to take such risks.  So who is crazier?    Besides, none of these animals are typically aggressive, they tend to be defensive only under certain situations.  With greater awareness and alertness and respect, we simply learn to avoid one another.

Lolo Creek - More like a small river

We decided that camping out for awhile in a recreation vehicle to try out the new environment would be a workable solution for temporary housing, so upon arriving home we scored a 23 foot RV manufactured in 1979 on Craig’s List for only $3,000.  That motivated Robert to investigate alternative systems in a more focused way.  Yura recommended “The Humanure Handbook” and we learned all about a perfectly safe and sanitary method to recycle human waste for garden compost.  I recognized the sawdust secret for odor control from the pit toilet Yura had set up on a temporary basis until he could set up a complete composting system on the property.  Robert plans to build a “Lovable Loo” for our trailer which will allow for an indoor toilet rather than an outhouse or open pit toilet — without odors.  Hurray!  No more aching bladder in the middle of the night!

Then he began investigating sun-powered solar panel electric systems.   First he took a class from a nearby solar panel vendor, Eco Depot, to learn the ins and outs of how to put together a custom system.  Next Robert made a spreadsheet to note the wattage, volts and duration that each one of our electric appliances are used.  He added them all up to get the daily usage figures to match up the right sized system: we’d need enough solar panels to produce 3 KW hours per day, and a generator that can produce 5 KW, which we’d likely run at least an hour or two.  (I’ll coax him to post details on the system sometime.)  “The good news is I believe we can generate enough electricity with a combination generator and solar panel array system to meet our basic needs,”  he told me. Hmmm… what did he mean by “basic needs,” I wondered?  After hesitating, he broached a most sensitive subject with me.  “Kamori, I don’t think we can keep our washer and dryer.  They just use too much power.”  Without missing a beat, I innocently asked,  “So you’re planning on doing our laundry by hand, then?”  I flashed a sweet smile while batting my eyelashes.

After yet more research, I determined that wringer washing machines are still made, but only in Saudi Arabia, making the price prohibitive after adding in shipping costs.  Our best bet would be to search for an old Maytag and restore it.  Better yet, Robert found out from a guy whose been living off the grid for many years that he saves his power-hungry chores for the time of the daily recharge of the deep-cycle batteries.  Apparently in our climate, recharging the batteries with a generator is a must to keep the batteries well above 50% discharge, otherwise they will lose their capacity to charge — permanently.  While the generator is running, it’s actually beneficial to run the power-hungry appliances at the same time to make the most efficient use of the generator.  YES!!!

Camping On The Edge

Our first visit to Vedrica was arranged through emails exchanged with Yura, who courageously chose to camp throughout the winter on the raw land.  We’d never met him, of course, nor Joanna, our contact through the English Anastasia forum.  He sent us a long list of precise driving instructions which began: “Set your trip odometer to zero as you cross the Clearwater River through Greer and proceed 3.6 miles…” and continued on with twists and turns, landmarks and odometer readings we were to keep track of to find the property.  Highway 11 in Clearwater County climbs over a thousand feet on steep switchbacks up to a wide bench averaging 3,000 feet in elevation.  From the bottom, the sun was peeking through fast-moving clouds lighting up the bare earth between the tall pines and firs, but looking up at the top, snow was still accumulating.  In between, the snow cover faded to green, a lovely natural gradient.

After sloshing through snow and mud as deep as the bottom of the Jeep, we finally passed through the gate cheerfully marked, “Welcome to Vedrica!” at the end of our instructions… and promptly came to a fork in the road.  Which way to go? No one was in sight, and the only sign of civilization was a tent trailer way off in the distance.  Since the road to the left was new with “creeks” running through deep ruts, we gingerly crawled down the road to the right in the lowest gear which looked hopefully more solid.  Luckily Robert glanced at his rear view mirror and noticed that signs of civilization had come into view behind us not visible before: a Land Cruiser, a pickup truck and a group of recreation trailers surrounded by bales of straw.  We carefully backed up and then sloshed over to the campsite.  To our joy and delight, Yura — it had to be him! — appeared waving and smiling.  Mission accomplished!

After driving for several hours, the only thing on my “mind” was a visit to the “restroom” though I suspected the toilets in the trailers were not being used.  Sure enough…  after inquiring, I was led to an open pit draped on three sides with a makeshift curtain laced on a string.  Two boards straddled the pit for positioning oneself; a bucket of sawdust with a scoop were nearby.  A cookie tin with a tight-fitting lid was conveniently located within arms reach, which I suspected protected the toilet paper from moisture… a quick confirmation that there WAS indeed toilet paper and only a little damp relieved my anxiousness.  The view from the undraped side was spectacular, a snow-covered field sloping down to the forest with the ever-present backdrop of mountains across the Lolo Creek gorge.  I tried to calm my nervousness, figuring no one could possibly be anywhere in sight.

Just as I reluctantly lowered my sweatpants in the 38 degree chill, I was startled and scared out of my wits by the sudden appearance of two German shepherd dogs.  As panic gripped me I managed to notice that their tails were wagging and by their diminutive size, they were clearly still pups.  I just stood frozen on the boards and smiled stiffly at them… wondering if their owner was nearby or on the way to investigate.  To my relief, Yura called their names and they finally left, disappointed I hadn’t petted them. 

For the rest of the day and well into the next, we thoroughly enjoyed our conversations and makeshift meals with Yura and his 15-year-old nephew, Oleg.  We walked a tiny fraction of the 270 acres, tromping through slushy snow and muddy old logging roads crisscrossing the slopes, up and down, up and down, up and down.  Good exercise, yes!  I snapped pictures right and left to distract me from my tired muscles and the discomfort of socks scrunching down into the toes of my boots.  Yura, of course, wasn’t even breathing hard, since this has been his playground for the better part of a year already.  We viewed several potential “kin’s domain” sites (homesites) several with awesome views of the creek gorge and the mountains.

I timidly asked about bears… yes, (of course) there were signs of bears, such as scat and gouge marks from large paws scraping the larger tree trunks, and busted branches of the smaller fruit trees.  I asked about rattlesnakes… no sign of them now.  Well, of course, since they like to sun themselves on the rocks which are covered with snow now; but what about when it warms up?  Yura volunteered to point out the poison oak, which was hard to recognize in winter.  More likely he had memorized its location during the warmer weather… he seemed to know the land better than I know my own backyard in my city home.

Back in “civilization” I had to admire their setup.  The three trailers were wedged together to form a “U” with the dogs’ pen at the top, closing the circle.  Straw bales insulated and provided “stairs” up to the trailer doors.  Creek water was provided by a generator-powered pump, located halfway down Cedar Creek gorge and further muffled by straw bales.  Hand-washing stations were set up with bottled water fitted with spigots over buckets.  A large box-shaped trailer served as a workshop, stocked with tools and working surfaces.  A generator-powered sawmill had been purchased and set up on a reasonably flat space ready to provide lumber for building.  A trade had already been bartered with a neighboring ranch for the sorely needed gravel on the new road.  Internet was provided by Wild Blue, a satellite service, and solar panels had already been installed to supplement the generators.  Everything was neat and tidy, precisely and thoughtfully laid out and well-maintained.  The satisfied smiles on their faces as they pulled a dinner together said it all.

Oleg had kindly stoked up a fire in the wood stove he had helped install in the guest trailer.  As we prepared for bed, the heat was unbearably reminiscent of a sauna.  We knew, though, that the temperature outside would soon drop precipitously and once the fire went out the chill would set in.  I tried unsuccessfully to fall asleep in pajamas under the sleeping bags and settled for laying on top of them.    Sometime in the night I awoke to a chill and crawled underneath.  A full bladder reminded me that a trip to the “restroom” was out of the question: too cold, too far away, too dark, too scary… the dogs periodically barked when they heard animals creeping through the field or forest.  I wasn’t interested in finding out what KIND of animal…  I drifted off to sleep for a while, until Robert got up — reluctantly — to go outside to pee.  I was only a little jealous of the advantage of the male plumbing, which meant he needn’t go far and needn’t worry about a supply of toilet paper nor a proper disposal site for it.  I somehow made it through the night intact.

We had arrived as strangers and parted as warm friends.  My mind was full of impressions and questions as we drove back into civilization: would this be our new home someday?  Could we really live safely in bear country?  Could we possibly build our own solar-powered off-the-grid home, with permaculture grey water systems, and year-round gardens and greenhouse in this place?  How could we afford all the materials, even with the option of using stone, clay and wood from the land?  How could we get a viable home business going an hour away from Lewiston, the only city of size nearby?

How to explain this strange feeling of peace in my heart amidst all the mental turmoil?