Where We’ve Been, Where We Are & Where We’re Heading

Water tending

It continues to wonderfully intrigue me how the rustic way we are living requires more hands-on work then when we lived in town, but how our life feels easier and involves more spaciousness and ease. Somehow it’s more work and way less work at the same time. Or maybe it’s just a different kind of work that feels a lot more satisfying and enlivening to do.

Our big life-change leap to remote woods living, off-grid and without running water, in 2021, was a brand new foray for us. We have been learning as we go. At first, as with any fresh undertaking or endeavor, the learning curve was steep. Ever since we first got boots on the ground, we’ve been simply figuring out what our next move is as we go, with the limited budget we have and a two-person crew.

While there are some overlaps, in large part, Mike is our builder, crafter, and designer of things. He’s our researcher and chief of systems operations. And I upkeep our homestead, keep us fed, and work to pay our basic monthly bills. I’m also our water hauler, program director for Empty Mountain events and retreats, and I manage all things computer related: YouTube uploading, blog writing, website updating, emailing, newsletter crafting, and Facebook posting. Perhaps the biggest task we share is collecting and chopping wood, which is the heat source inside the cabin.

Images above: Just recently we found a local source for both firewood and sawdust (for use in our compost toilet set up) at a place that’s just 3-miles down the road - win, win!

As an avid organizer and planner, I’ve been surprised how much I’ve been enjoying the process of just seeing what emerges next, as far as how to apply our time and efforts into the slow-growth movement of Empty Mountain. I usually not only prefer but feel as though I need to know what’s coming and happening next. I love making plans, and then acting in accordance to make said plan come to life. I am highly organized, incredibly efficiency driven, and one of my monikers is the-make-it-happen-captain. The whole “wait and see” approach is not my standard M.O. It is, however, Mike’s. So I think for him he’s right at home.

As a brief recap, in our first season of Empty Mountain (July-September 2022) we built the main shell of our 12X14 cabin, insulated and roofed it, and installed the woodstove. In season two (April-October 2023) we added a covered porch to the cabin, built an outhouse, and upgraded our pit style latrine to a compost toilet system set up. And in season three (March-November 2024) we built a shower house, added gutters and rain catchment barrels, erected a wood shed to store firewood, sided the exterior of the cabin, and installed the flooring and wall cladding inside the cabin. (I say “season” since we’ve been wintering down south. Technically, it will be 3 years this coming July since we moved into the woods and started EM.)

Program and people gathering wise, since the inception of EM, we’ve organized and hosted 4 days of mindfulness, 2 camping retreats, 1 community potluck, and 1 work party. And we’ve been graced with many friends and family coming to EM for day visits or overnight stays.

Kindling collecting, for starting fires with in our cabin’s wood stove

This coming year, for our fourth season, there are a few different ideas we are kicking around on the building & expansion front. We’re still feeling our way through what we want to do, since we got home on Feb 19, after 3-months spent away down south. Finishing the basic inside of the cabin is on the docket. We still have the ceiling and the upper parts of the front & back walls to clad with wood, as well as the flooring in the bed loft to install. Our kitchen build is a question mark. While I would love to upgrade our kitchen from the folding table, 2-burner Coleman campstove, and temporary, limited shelving we’re currently using, it feels more pressing to me to get a small guest hut or two built before we make advancements to our own internal living set up. I would really like to have a structure for folks to stay in when they come out, especially for those who might be interested in staying for a longer period of time.

We also have a strong interest in building a sweat house this year. A wood-fire sauna that we can especially enjoy during the colder months, in preparation for perhaps wintering over here next year instead of heading south. Mike is also interested in looking into maybe having a road put in that would allow us vehicular access to what we call Evening Sky Meadow, which is situated on the east side of our property.

Most recently, Mike’s been spending his time clearing snow from our parking meadow and driveway with our ATV and snow plow attachment. And just the other day, he turned our front covered porch into a workshop area in order to finish up the inside trim around the windows and door. With a little more time and a little more melting, we’ll be able to erect the metal-framed carport style tent that serves as our tool storage and work space, but for now, while it’s not ideal, the porch is a practical solution.

Positioned where our little cabin is here in the canyon, with the land and trees reaching for the sky where they do, our solar panels are drawing juice from the sun from around 10am-4pm, which seems pretty good for this time of year here in the north country. Lately, we’ve been getting enough full sun to fill our house batteries, which is nice. However, we do not have our largest electricity draw running yet: our small refrigerator. Last year, we tried our hand at using the outdoors for food storage, until the temperatures rose to the point where that was no longer viable. It worked well, so we’re doing that again, with some slight adjustments. This time around we’re using two 5-gallon buckets that we have strategically wedged into a snow bank near the porch.  We should be able to get maybe a week or two more from that set up, before all the snow melts away.

Not having been here at EM in February or this early in March before, it’s been nice to get a better sense of the land and how it interacts with the early starts of winter turning towards spring. Living here in the woods as remotely and rustically as we do, I’ve been dearly appreciating forming a relationship with the land, which, as with any close friendship, requires spending time together, and also sincere interest.

When we drive out of the canyon, very little snow remains on the ground. But here, tucked in where we are, and also given the elevation gain, we still have a decent amount of snow. From where our land is situated, it’s 2.5 miles to the river and the asphalt road that will take a person elsewhere and anywhere else. From EM to the river is a difference of 400-feet in elevation. We’re around 3,200 feet and the river sits at around 2,800 feet.

The light is growing and the songbirds are slowly returning here in the mountains of western Montana. And as we settle back in, for what we hope will be another productive season, and also a joyful one spent with leisure, rest, and friends, winter is starting to recede and make way for spring. Aho. And amen.

Sun rise at Empty Mountain, March 2025