Month: January 2021

I have always heard that, once one reaches a given age, one begins to reflect on the shifts and changes in culture of those behind them. They begin to ponder the generation they raised, now the generation of growth and change, themselves having shifted into elder status (in the eyes of progress). I am unsure if what my parents and grandparents felt was similar to what I now see and feel, but living out here, in this lovely park, mostly sans humans, nearly entirely devoid of vehicles, artificial noise, electronics, artificial lighting, or machinery? My timing to land here was impeccable.

I don’t have to wear a mask normally, inside, or out, nor on any of my park-wide adventures. I don’t have to stare at my phone to see if anyone has offered me a small dopamine boost. I don’t have to focus on, or be troubled that (whether you like or despise the man), the ruler of the free world being actively banned from modern communication platforms. I don’t have to listen to words being bantered about such as mandatory, insurrection, impeachment, stimulus, debt forgiveness, rioting, and there is no need to query for pronouns. I can, and choose on an ever growing basis, to disconnect from this… whatever it is… we have created for ourselves. What the average person seems to endure all day, every day? It is not for me. It is unsettling to my very core. There is genuine empathy in such plight.

I don’t have to commute. I don’t have to engage. I don’t have to click or tap a screen for a fix. I don’t have to listen to any side, or the anger, the vehemence, or the frustration of my peers who are struggling against a level of oppression that, ‘in my day’ was not only unheard of, but until now, unimagined.

Bradbury’s Fahrenheit 451, Vonnegut’s Harrison Bergeron, Orwell’s 1984, Clarke’s Songs of a Distant Earth, hell, the roots of Asimov’s Foundation Series, and there you have it. Some of our best and brightest of the last century. None of whom foresaw what “these kids today“ would be up to.

There is a coyote walking the road in front of the house nightly, using the aforementioned packed trail to readily navigate the park. He walks to and fro every night, leaving scat, marking his territory in an area which also happens to be a stretch of road my old and loyal (and male) canine companion has also readily claimed. Much pissing ensues daily, upon our outings; my dog is attempting to reclaim this stretch of road the coyote wandered about and marked the night prior.

The old boy sniffs, tracks, hunts, runs, stops, backtracks, and studies the path his canine ancestor left for him to explore. He loves the daily outings in a new way now, a new challenge, a new exploration, a chance to challenge all who dared cross his urine marked boundaries.

I must admit, the combination of finding a new tea I quite enjoy, mixed with the desire to aid the old boy on his quest to reclaim Schierl Road, I have begun assisting the old fellow, marking a few trees of my own here and there as we walk through these woods.

Moving on to the ranch was my first experience with an HOA. Within five or six weeks of my arrival (still settling, still arranging, still unpacking) my neighbors complained to the HOA about me; the HOA process began early on in regards to making sure the new guy knew there were many rules to follow. Where is the HOA’s accountability to the owners, new or otherwise? That is the topic of today’s thought.

Choosing to move here was not an easy decision, for the aforementioned reason of the HOA itself. I am not one to be told what color I can paint what building, what vehicle might sit in what location, etc.; each HOA is a unique animal unto itself. The tipping factor, for this man to sign and thus relocate, was a combination of this fabulous location itself, coupled with being a gated community, such that anyone wandering about our fair lands also has passed our security screening.

We have cameras at the entry points. We have an LPR system. We have special locks. We have keys. We have gates. Giving up a touch of freedom for security? It seemed like a fair trade.

But we do not have security here, we have the illusion of security. We have had at least two notable incidents where we could not ascertain the license plate of the perpetrator. (We have been told that if we have not provided license plates to the HOA in advance, they wouldn’t be able to track the vehicles even if plate numbers were captured.) We have poachers wandering about, freely. We have had an incident of the wind shifting the camera out of site of the gate so we could not follow a matter. We have folks bringing in large back hoe type equipment scraping and altering our roads. We have had someone remove and steal our railroad gate padlock, with nary an image of who, or when the transgression occurred. Since then, at least three weeks now, the gate is simply swinging wide open, with no replacement lock yet available. Security? We don’t need no stinkin’ security!

We pay for this security we do not get. We trade freedoms where neighbors can complain about what our lot might look like, but management seems not to care if strangers wander in, explore, and maybe visit our storage facility, about a half mile away. Owners have stored a few hundred thousand dollars worth of equipment here under the guise of it being behind a locked gate. Nearly all of them are gone for the winter and trust that this gate is locked, protecting their property. I have a nearly new truck sitting down there, eight miles from home, with no ability to see it, and the gate intended to protect it swings wide open for weeks now; the management company has no spare lock on hand, but has placed an order.

Two nights in the past week I have seen an array of snow machines wandering about the northwest end of the park, riding the ranges, zipping around this wonderful land. I do not think they belong here. I do not think they live here. I wish we could get our gate locked, such a fundamental, ridiculous breach of security. A breach we should have had a spare lock on hand to resolve.

(Hey, Mr. Burns – how about a gate latch so the gates would at least stay closed, if not locked? Could we maybe trouble you for a damned latch?)

I went out of the park this weekend in pursuit of fresh organic produce and a few dozen more eggs. Fifteen days sans humans was the last stint here, but I would really like to settle in for a couple of months, and simply not leave. This weekend’s food collection makes this quite realistic. It is an adventure to get out, and civilization, such as it is, masks, lack of eye contact, and a touch of human coldness everywhere… there is not much to miss. I would rather watch the elk, the coyote, and the relentlessly migrating snow.

Here is some footage from inside as Moon Bug takes me out, and then back in to the park. There has been much snow reporting as of late, but whereas I might sit still for a month or two, this is the last such focused content for a spell. (You may wish to hit mute, it’s just machine noise and the cab heater. )