“You can’t get anywhere from here,” J and I lamented the other day.
By here, I mean RR and this northeast corner of Oregon.
For years, J & I have talked about living off the grid. When we lived in Penacook, NH, and Bluemont, VA, we were 8 miles from the closest grocery store and that raised some eyebrows. We were conscious of all the errands we had to do on our “big trips to town.” But, we dreamed of being more isolated, further from civilization.
Be careful what you wish for.
We are 35 miles from the closest town. I reiterate, there are only ghost towns near us. Within 3-6 miles. We found another one: Paradise, OR.
J likes to think we are still not remote enough. He remembers the time he lived in a canvas tent in the backcountry of Denali National Park, where you could really only fly in and out. The closest “town” was 90 miles and that wasn’t even a town.
But, I am voting that this is remote enough. We recently tried to book flights to a friend’s wedding. Oh my ever-loving God. The closest airport is 3.5 hours. THREE AND A HALF HOURS. And, it’s a small airport, so the flight we need leaves ONE TIME A DAY. We opted for the bigger airport that is 5 hours away because it had a whopping 2 flight time options.
On the other hand, I cannot complain. We have every bit of wilderness I ever dreamed of. Every night, we look up and see an abundance of speckled sliver pain on a pitch black canvas. Our coppery red lunar eclipse was spectacular. And we wake up to an abundance of views every morning.
So, even though you can’t get anywhere from here, I’ll take it. I just won’t go anywhere.