A Castle in the Woods

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So I wondered, "Where shall we go? What shall we do?" And, with my little inheritance providing the necessary impetus for change, I made up my mind. "Why not make a clean break now," I concluded. "Why not get back to basics ... be poor!"

THE QUEST

After some soul-searching conversations with Joe, I decided that we really needed to find some place in hilly country, with the glamour of four seasons but without super-cold winters ..with a good supply of pure water and wood for heating and cooking ... and—most important—with a measure of isolation. (After years of enduring the sensory overload of city life, I desperately wanted to be situated where I could neither see nor hear my neighbors.)

I studied geological survey maps of southern states and wrote to the presidents of local realty boards. One such person answered that he had 40 inexpensive acres of hardwood trees in the Appalachian foothills, completely surrounded by national forest land. I figured that the cash from the sale of my city property, plus my retirement fund and the money in escrow, would allow me to make such a move, so I drove down to Georgia to take a look. There I found hummingbirds, whippoorwills, butterflies, bobcats, great oaks, fungi, and rolling mountain woodland ... and I was hooked!

While still lecturing, I bought the land ... had a well dug (160 feet deep) ... planned my house ... and bought a little camper and a jeep.

Then, in 1976—on my fiftieth birthday—I resigned from the school, auctioned off all the furniture and possessions I didn't care about, gave away all my electrical appliances, sold my property, and arranged for a moving company to take charge of the things I wanted to keep ... and Joe and I (plus my two English mastiffs) left for our "kingdom".

Cutting ties that have taken a lifetime to form is a draining experience ... and throwing away professional security and all its supposed conveniences and luxuries is like losing a piece of oneself. But for me, the change was like crawling out of an old, outworn skin.

A MAGICAL METAMORPHOSIS

What an exhilarating, unsettling, and strange rebirth it was! Joe, the dogs, and I left the city during an icy blizzard. We lost our way several times in the course of the trip ... couldn't find the property when we did reach the area ... and spent the night parked and lost. And after we had finally located our new homesite, the storm grew worse ... and Dead Horse Road (our winding, logging-trail driveway) disappeared completely. For the next few days, we were alone and stranded in the wilderness, and began our new life by melting snow for our water supply.

In the blizzard-bound quiet we faced up to the incredible amount of work that loomed ahead ... and the fact that we had much to learn!

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