Some photos of one of the old wells and a couple of the rock walls. The other well is grown in and has several trees growing out of it.
The old well closest to the cabin. A stream actually runs through it, not bad thinking for whoever dug it there.
This rock wall marks one of the property lines
Rock wall going down to the lean-to
Three feet high, five feet wide or so...
With no TV or internet to distract me, I spend a lot of time thinking. Just 
thinking. One of the things I’ve been thinking about lately is how crippled I used to be by my depression. I also think a lot about the sea change in my own personality and life since I sought out treatment.
My therapist in Jacksonville was good, she was no Freud or anything like that, but I didn’t really need someone to tell me that all my problems were somehow related to sex. A cigar is just a cigar. I needed someone to unload my problems on. During our first session, she asked what I wanted out of the therapy. I told her I wanted to say what was making me angry (always a strong byproduct of my depression) and that I needed an independent person to tell me when I was right to be upset and when I was being a baby. I can’t begin to describe the weight that was lifted as I gained some perspective on my feelings.
I heard an interview with a famous person the other day, and she said that her depression was never gone, but it felt like a train that was coming, and all you could do was hop on and hope that you survived the ride. I couldn’t agree more. It’s not that I don’t get depressed anymore or that a couple years of therapy was a magic pill. But the lows are a lot more shallow and the train is easier to hold on to.
I’ve always found solace in nature, which is why I’ve basically spent my life outdoors. The sounds, smells, and colors of the woods are very soothing, and I can honestly say that I have never been depressed during a hike or camping trip. Going through therapy and addressing my issues led me to the conclusion that if I was happiest outside, then I needed to spend as much time in nature as I could. Hence my leaving Florida to come back to the Adirondacks. It’s my way of making my lifestyle my therapy.
The other major thing I learned in therapy was that I was really exceedingly normal. I am open to discussing my problems because I think that many people suffer day to day from mental demons or whatever you want to call it, and I hope that others can buck the stigma of needing to talk to a therapist. It took me about five sessions to realize that I had nothing to be ashamed of. But as I sat in the waiting room twice a week, I saw dozens of people come in and immediately put their eyes to the ground out of shame. I noticed it because I was one of them for a while. And how silly, to be ashamed of seeing a therapist when you know for an absolute fact that I am also there to see a therapist.
As I sit here writing this, the snow is falling again, and there’s about an inch on the ground. It started raining around four this morning, and changed to snow sometime after I fell back to sleep. The new porch roof did well in the rain, and the new floor makes the porch feel much, much larger. It’s a gray and dreary day, cold, windy and wet. And I couldn’t be happier.
Birch Buds
Daffodils
The Big Field
I found an old set of horseshoes in the lower field the other day. It has been a nice addition to recreational life out here at the cabin. I had some 
friends over to play, and according to Adirondack rules, each participant had a beer in one hand. No setting it down to throw, no cheating with non-alcoholic “beer.” And of course, upgrading to whiskey or tequila gets a nod of approval from the fellow participants.
Even though I am very secluded out here, I’ve found so many pieces of evidence of the continued presence of humans that it’s hard not to think about how others have lived on this particular piece of land. I only found the horseshoes because one of the stakes had a faded orange flag on it. When I went to investigate, I found the shoes, and it took a little while to find the other stake because the field is overgrown.
On the way up the driveway on the left, in the woods, there is an old bus and some other assorted rusty pieces of metal, no doubt left over from an old camp. It reminds me of my childhood. Relatives of mine had a hunting camp in Wells, and there was an old school bus out there. When I was young, I convinced myself that there must be a ghost in that old bus. That was enough to make me stay away, which is good, mainly because I’m sure that there were skunks or porcupines living in there. I don’t think there are ghosts out here, even though my radio does occasionally turn on by itself.
There is what appears to be an actual hitching post right outside my door. No doubt prior owners had horses. Based on the condition of the crumbling old stable near upper camp, it seems likely that the horses were used for work, and not for transportation. The rock walls that criss-cross the property are huge, often thousands of feet long and several feet high. It speaks to the amount of time that people were out here trying to work this land. These walls were not done in just a season or two, but were labored over what had to be generations. The rock walls are a great navigation tool, since if I get lost, I can just follow a wall back towards the cabin and I will eventually hit either the driveway or the big field.
There are piles of rusty metal randomly scattered about. I’ve found two old hand-dug, rock-lined wells, along with the old plow out front and some farming implements out back. Nothing about this place leads me to believe that I am the first one to live out here “off the grid.” But back when the others were doing it, that was just the way life was. No other options, no going to a friend’s house for a hot shower or TV. And as far as I know, no writing about this life either.
There is a part of me that really likes history and research, and I’d love to dig into the past of this property. But I don’t think I will. Something about the mystery of forgotten lives and being able to imagine how hard those people had to work makes me think that I’ll leave the story unknown.
The weather has been a little up and down lately. There was about four inches of snow on the ground for the last few days, and then yesterday it melted, only to be replaced by a half-inch of hail. The flowers don’t know what the hell is going on….
The afternoon sunlight slants against the birdfeeders, giving them a golden glow. It’s hard to believe that it’s almost seven at night, when it was not that long ago that the sun was going down at about four-thirty.
During the really dark parts of the winter, it was hard not to go to sleep at six PM. With only candles and oil lamps, night was difficult to fight off, and 
more often than not, I fell asleep on the couch with a book on my chest and my headlamp still on.
Now that it’s light so late in the afternoon, I am actually having a hard time filling the days. Not that I’m just sitting around doing nothing, but I feel like I should be working until six or seven.
It is nice to take a break and realize that it’s dinner time, though. The wood I cut over the winter is drying nicely, the deer have been coming back to the yard, and luckily there hasn’t been any sign of bears. The chickadees have been using the feeders less and less, but the squirrels are still hitting them pretty regularly.
My focus has definitely shifted from cold weather preparation and existence to outdoor projects. The compost bin is complete, and so is a small cold-frame I put together from scrap around the property. The leaky porch roof now has a rather large hole in it (my fault) and is in dire need of repair, so that’s the next big project.
I’ll probably have to move a generator from Amy’s house up to the cabin to charge batteries and run a saw for the roof project. It’s weird to think that other than charging my phone in the car, this will be the first time that I’ll have electricity at the cabin. October to April with no power at the house seems like a long time. But it went by pretty quickly. I did go through a lot of 9-volt batteries powering the clock radio. I also burned about three shoe-boxes worth of candles, as well as a gallon or so of lamp oil.
I’ve burned about four cords of wood, but the stove won’t needed much longer. The two and a half gallons of gas I bought for the chainsaw is just about gone, and I finally added a gallon of gas to the four wheeler. I really wish that the four wheeler would start in the cold, but now that it is running, I’ve been having a lot of fun just driving it around. Unfortunately, Pico can’t come along on these rides, because he’s continually trying to bite the tires, and that’s no good.
The bugs are out, but nothing is biting yet. A friend of mine saw some mosquitoes, but he said “they were too stupid to bite me.” Let’s hope they stay that dumb all summer.
We got a dusting of snow last night. First time in a couple of weeks that there has been snow on the ground… Kind of nice to hear that little crunch under my boots again.
Laying in the sun yesterday
Ed. That's it, just Ed.
Herbie coming down off the roof
The yellow-bellied sapsucker. My all time favorite name for an animal. I’ve seen two of them in the last week. This March was definitely a weird one as 
far as weather goes. Record breaking high temperatures led to several shirtless days outside and a sun burn on my back.
It was about this time last year that I left Jacksonville and headed back up here. The year didn’t turn out any where near what I had planned, but that’s alright. Now, I am completely absorbed with the amount of birds that have been popping up around here. I saw two grouse walk through the yard a little while ago, and there were a bunch of robins that passed through a few days ago. I’ve even seen a few geese flying by along with a bunch of others that I can’t identify.
This year’s lunge into spring was so sudden that it felt as if we had just skipped a few months and were in the middle of summer. But that would have meant missing the spring, and even though it’s usually more of a mud season than anything else, I love the abundance of growth and warmth after winter.
I went canoeing last week, the first time I was ever able to do that on my birthday. The sun was warm and the water was freezing, and my buddy and I managed to stay out on the water for a while. We didn’t go anywhere, mainly because we had no where to go, but it was a great way to end the winter. I always love snow until the first day of spring, and then I want it gone, and this year, that was pretty much what happened.
And now the birds and animals are coming out, there are small buds and flowers on the trees, and the little stream that runs through here is flowing. The air smells different, and not just because it’s no longer stained with the exhaust of the woodstove. It’s lighter later in the day, and the candles and lanterns have not been in use much.
Yup, spring is one of my favorite seasons, along with the rest of them.
Pico and I went snow shoeing for probably the last time today. I wanted to get out before all the snow is gone, and I think there’ll be enough left to ski on tomorrow. But the snow is going fast, almost as fast as it came.
In the last two weeks, I’ve gotten about two feet of snow out at the cabin.
Black Capped Chickadee
The plow guy had to come three times in four days, after having been out here only three times in the last three months. But now it’s about fifty degrees, and the forecast calls for warm for the rest of the week. It’s starting to look like winter might really be over.
I missed this part of the Adirondack spring last year, as I was still living in Florida. I missed opening the windows and letting that clean-smelling breeze roll through the house. I missed seeing people’s super white arms emerging from t-shirts for the first time in months. I just plain missed the change in the seasons.
Jacksonville, FL is far enough north that there is kind of a “winter,” where it does get cold for a couple of months. The palm trees stay green and you might need a hat and gloves in the morning, but that’s about all you get out of the change of seasons. There’s really only two seasons: Hot, and not as hot.
The lady bugs have been proliferating around and on the big window. I keep catching glimpses of them out of the corner of my eye, and thinking that someone is coming up the driveway, but that’s not really all that likely. Now that it’s warm, the snow is melting, and there are brown patches of dead grass peeking out, I can’t help but feel some sort of satisfaction. Back in October, I thought that living off the grid for the winter would be a huge challenge.
It has been. But not one that has broken or defeated me. If anything, I am stronger, both mentally and physically, than when I moved out here. This winter was an experiment in self-reliance. Not that I haven’t gotten help along the way, but being way out here is something that you have to experience to truly understand.
And really, isn’t life all about the experience?
Just a few shots from the record warm of the last few days…
Whiteface in the Morning
Chillin' in the Shade
Ha ha! Wasn't that long ago...