The last week of October was one of the toughest and most demoralizing weeks I’ve had in a long time. I made it through my first cold winter weekend with snow, only to be blasted by a windstorm on the 30th that wreaked havoc on my already-loose pole barn roof, forced me to remove my RV insulation skirt, and—worst of all—damaged my solar panel, taking out my primary source of power.
For the first time since starting this adventure, I felt completely defeated. I nearly convinced myself that trying to live in an Airstream through the winter was futile.
Nearly.
But if there’s one thing I know about myself, it’s that I’m stubbornly persistent. I don’t give up easily.
A Timely Reminder: “I Believe in You!”
The first week of November dawned bright and sunny and was a perfect excuse for a fresh start and a new perspective. On Monday, I swung by the post office to check my PO box and found an unexpected package.
In the chaos of the last few weeks, I had completely forgotten that right after I closed on my land, I had bought myself a Henry print of a Sasquatch in sunflowers. It was something I thought would be perfect for my eventual home in Twisp.
The print made me smile, but the real surprise was the bonus sticker inside: “I believe in you!”
I don’t think I’ve ever felt more grateful for such a perfectly timed affirmation. I stuck the sticker by the Airstream’s front entry so I’d see it every day.
It was exactly what I needed.
Though I lamented the loss of my solar power on such a sunny week, warmer temperatures meant less reliance on the furnace, which meant less power. I managed to get by just fine using the generator only a couple of hours per day. I spent my week working, enjoying the sunshine, getting out for much needed trail runs, and eagerly anticipating some of my first contractor appointments.
Building With Intention.
When I first started looking for land, I had hoped to find a place with a well or even septic, but nothing within my budget ever felt right. Instead, I took a chance on a completely undeveloped piece of land that spoke to me. One that was filled with incredible energy.
I struggled with the idea of developing it, though. What would the damage look like? How much would be destroyed? After a lot of conversations, I realized that I could do my best to put the land and its wildlife first and keep a small footprint. Hopefully.
I’d already committed to keeping most of my land undeveloped and have already removed barbed wire and cleaned up decades’ worth of junk. I plan to consult with a local native habitat expert, install birdhouses along the fence line, and actively improve the ecosystem here.
It’s a big project with a long road ahead, but at least now I was starting to gain traction on the bigger picture.
The Waiting Game: Water.
There’s a perfect building site on my land that is flat, secluded, and tucked back from the road. The only problem? It’s far from the most likely well location, which means I’ll need to pipe water a long distance.
I’ve been working with a well driller who might be able to squeeze in an attempt before the ground freezes, but my window is closing fast.
Meanwhile, contractors came out to assess power and septic. Twisp PUD identified a few places I could pull power, though I’m still debating whether to bring electricity to the building site or stay fully solar. As for septic, I was told I could put it pretty much anywhere, but I’ll need to schedule a perc test.
And so, I gathered a lot of information and moved some chess pieces, but the linchpin remains: water.
I need a well before anything else can happen.
Fingers crossed it happens before winter, but I’ve already learned that timelines aren’t exactly up to me. Things will unfold when they unfold.
Small moves and big wins.
Between work and contractor visits, I kept chipping away at removing more barbed wire and cleaning up junk piles. Then on Thursday, those strong north winds returned, and my pole barn roof went back to its chaotic symphony of banging metal.
I texted a contractor who had recently visited, and he told me he had finally tracked down a 40′ ladder and could come by to fix it. When I saw his truck pulling onto my land that afternoon, I almost cried with gratitude.
Despite the wind, he climbed 40 feet up the ladder and put in enough nails to stop the roof from rattling. My fear of ladders is legendary, and watching someone else up there in a windstorm made me sweat bullets, but it was done!
No more banging metal pole barn roof. What a win!
A New (Tiny) Problem: Unwanted Visitors.
The next evening, as Hudson and I stayed up late watching a movie, I heard something unusual: scratching. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw movement.
A mouse ran across the floor.
“Oh, shit!”
Yep. A mouse. In my Airstream.
I’m a bleeding heart when it comes to animals, but I really didn’t want one chewing through my wiring.
I posted my dilemma on Facebook, and multiple people told me to buy Bounce dryer sheets and stuff them everywhere. Really? Bounce?!
I was skeptical, but the next morning, I made a beeline for the store, came back, and shoved those obnoxiously scented sheets into every nook and cranny. If they didn’t repel the mouse, they’d at least repel me.
A Huge Victory: Solar Power Restored!
That same morning, I was expecting a new solar charge controller to replace my broken one. But for some reason, I felt compelled to take one more look at the wiring. I traced the cables back to the Zamp port, double-checked the fuse—all fine. Then I followed a wire tucked into the battery box and found a second fuse.
I pulled it out. It was scorched.
Wait. Could it really be that simple?
I grabbed a spare 15-amp fuse, plugged it in, hooked up my solar panel, and…
It worked!!!
I sat there, completely dumbstruck. My solar panel was working again! Are you kidding me!? And it was a clear, sunny day!
A string of successes.
I made the most of that sunny Saturday morning, which turned out to be a smart move because by noon, the north winds were roaring again, hitting 20-30 mph.
This time, though?
✔️ My pole barn roof was fixed.
✔️ My insulation stayed put.
✔️ My solar panel was tied down and secure.
I barely slept that night thanks to the wind, but I still felt victorious.
And on Sunday, as temperatures plummeted to 15°F, I worried about my batteries. By morning though, they were holding steady at 60%. The Airstream was warm. The pipes were fine. Hudson and I were cozy.
The Big Decision: Stay or Go?
With the first sustained winter weather approaching, it was time to decide: head to the RV park or stay put? At the RV park, I’d have shore power, full hookups, laundry, and showers. I’d worry less about frozen pipes or battery failures.
But I’d also be giving up waking up on my land, watching the sunrise over Mount Gardner, playing frisbee with Hudson in my 10.5-acre backyard, and feeling connected to this place. So, of course, I made the only decision that made sense for me.
I’m staying.
I’ve got 80 pounds of propane, 10 gallons of gasoline, and 50 gallons of water stockpiled. I’ve learned a lot. I’m as prepared as I can be. Now, I’ll just have to wait and see what Mother Nature has in store for me next.
