Escaping the rat race.

I grew up in the San Francisco Bay Area, when the only large city was San Francisco, and all the other cities like Oakland and San Jose were small, and the towns that were sprinkled around the bay were small, divided by ranch land, farms and forests. It was a beautiful place to live. Over the years the roads that connected the cities and towns grew wider and busier with traffic. Then 2 lane freeways were carved out to handle the increase in traffic, but that just promoted more population growth, so more homes were built, more shopping centers and strip malls, more high density housing, and so more traffic on the roads, more traffic jams, more accidents. The freeways were widened to 3 lanes, then 4 lanes. The ranches and farms shrunk and finally disappeared and the towns ran into the next town.Slowly but surely the Bay Area was becoming undisireable as a place to live. Crime increased, graffiti started showing up on bridges and buildings, noise pollution like engines and sirens were heard all the time of day and night. My job sent me all over the metropolitan area, so my commute time went from 1/2 hour to 2 1/2 hours. I was leaving earlier in the morning to beat the morning rush hour traffic and stayed later at work so I would avoid the evening rush hour. My commute was becoming brutal. My quality of life was deteriating to the point that I was not liking where I was living. The homeless crisis was getting worse by the month, tent cities were springing up on every street corner and public park. It wasn’t safe or pleasant to walk in my neighborhood anymore. Beggars accosted me all the time and they were becoming more aggressive. I had to move away just to keep my sanity. But I had always lived in a city, so what were my options?

All cities were turning into nightmares. So it looked like I had to live rural. Change my lifestyle completely. Retire from my career. Slow down. Actually, that sounded kind of nice!

I started immediately to research where I would like to live. North into the redwoods, Marin County, Humboldt County. Beautiful, but not what I wanted. South into the Central Valley, too agricultural, also not what I wanted. East into the Sierra Nevada mountains- the foothills, not the high peaks with snow. Gold country, yes, this is what I wanted. Historic gold country, rural, no cities, small quaint gold mining towns, no snow, lakes, creeks, rivers. Wildlife. Perfect. 3 hours from the San Francisco Bay Area, and a whole life away. Now to find a place to call my own.

I surfed the web, and found several possibilities - one stood out, a small log cabin on the banks of a fast running creek, sorrounded by tall pine trees. 3 acres, just big enough to raise chickens, a dog, grow some vegetables and fruit trees. A hobby farm. I drove up to the area that weekend to check out the cabin, the land, the entire area. As soon as I got over the Altamont Pass in Livermore the traffic thinned out and I was in farming country, Manteca, Lodi, then the small city of Stockton. More farm land, then Sacramento, the capital of California, then farm land, rivers, ranches, and finally the foothills rising up out of the Central Valley.Now no towns, all forests and ranch lands. The air smelt fresher. The trees got taller. Cows, sheep and horses in every open field. I was home. Finally I arrived at the cabin. After getting lost a couple of times. My GPS wasn’t working properly and the roads were getting smaller and windier. I didn’t see hardly any other cars on the road. It was quiet, peaceful. The town where the cabin was near was small, 4 buildings only, post office, general store, bar/restaurant, and a gas station. I hand passed a sign about 12 miles back that stated that Marysville was 5 miles down the road. A small city of 12,000 people. Ok, I could handle that. Banking, grocery shopping, stuff like that. Perfect. When I saw the cabin, it was so rustic and quaint, my heart just melted. It was so much better than the photos on Zwillow. And the price was fantastic. No close neighbors. Perfect. I went straight to the closest real estate office and put in an offer. I wanted this cabin. I wanted this life. By the time I got home there was a message on my computer from the real estate agent. My offer was accepted. Wow. This was really happening. I contacted my real estate agent, and put my house up for sale. The market was hot, a sellers market, and it didn’t take long to sell. Packing up was easy, I didn’t have a lot of things. I was going to simplify my life. I was so excited.

I resigned from my job, starting immediately. They weren’t surprised, they were expecting this. I was free! I completed my packing, and as soon as escrow closed I drove up to my cabin and moved in. I was in heaven. It was so quiet. So quiet in fact, that I couldn’t sleep. It took a few days to get used to it. What I did hear was the frogs. Many frogs. Loud frogs, quiet frogs. Squeaky frogs. I came to love their songs. Then the birds, amazing. Their songs are so beautiful. I was blessed that first morning by a flock of wild turkeys parading in front, gobbling, the Toms strutting with their tail feathers spread. And the stars blazing up in the night sky. I had never seen them so bright. There was large salmon in the creek, and the air was so fragrant. I went for a walk, and passed some houses with goats grazing in the yard. The occupant was in the doorway, and waved hello to me. No cars drove passed me the whole time I was on the walk. Bliss.

The nights were cool, and my cabin had a fireplace, and there was cut wood in the wood bin, so although I didn’t need to, I made a fire. It crackled and glowed warmly while I sipped a mug of coffee. I needed a dog for company. I couldn’t experience all this alone. First thing, dog shopping. A chocolate lab. I love those dogs. Driving around the area the next day, I found a sign for puppies for sale, labrador retrievers. That was easy. It was all coming together. Next, buy some seeds, plant a veggie garden. Get my hands dirty. Soil under my nails. Bell peppers, onions, lettuce, peas, potatoes. Oh, and strawberries, the giant ones. The previous owners had built a vegetable garden with raised beds and fenced it in so the deer wouldn’t eat my crop. Fresh veggies, I could almost taste them now. The well water tasted so clean and crisp, not like the chlorinated and fluorinated city water I was used to. While I was shopping for strawberries at the local nursery, I spotted some bare root fruit trees, peach, apple and persimmon. Yeah, I could start my orchard. So I scooped them up, and planted them in the field when I got home. My dream was coming true. My cabin in the woods.