We began our homesteading life on forty acres of mostly wooded land, with a homemade trailer built on a discarded 1953 Marlette mobile home chassis. After we moved the trailer to the land we mounted it on blocks and cut off the wheels and axles with a torch so that it would no longer come under the legal definition of a “mobile home ” and would thus be insurable with a woodstove installed.
It was all we could do to make the monthly payments on the land; there was no money left over for electrical hookup and plumbing, so we lived without electricity and water for quite some time. We weren’t inconvenienced at all, we were young and excited to have our own place, so we adapted as was needed. We used kerosene lamps in the evening and went to bed early so we could be up with the daylight. We hauled our water from a stream a quarter of a mile away (in the winter we had to keep a hole open in the ice and we hauled the buckets out by toboggan). We cut deadwood from the property to heat the place. Our first winter was interesting – the trailer wasn’t skirted yet when cold weather hit hard, so we burned firewood almost as fast as we could cut and haul it. We stayed fairly warm, but you definitely didn’t want to spill bathwater on the floor when you were taking a dip in the washtub - the water would freeze instantly when it hit the floor, and then you had to chisel it up before some one slipped and fell on it. On one memorable winter evening, one of us - won’t say which one
- accidentally backed into the woodstove immediately after stepping out of the washtub (ouch). You know those nice woodsy relief images on a Jotul? They translate perfectly to your skin (a good sense of humor will get you through a lot . . .)
There were down moments, of course – like dealing with shallow, droughty soil, inadequate income, gossipy two-faced neighbors, thieves, poachers, etc. Our worst problem though, came from the fact that there were 15 miles and 2 mountains between us and our day jobs in town. We needed those jobs to make the mortgage payments. Our vehicles were old and unreliable, and the road conditions in winter were downright dangerous. We frequently became stranded on opposite sides of the mountains for days at a time. The “dual life” was taxing both physically and emotionally.
We have tons of good memories, though - the dreams we shared, the teamwork involved, remembering what it’s like to take shelter in a home that you built yourself, warming yourself with wood that you cut and hauled, eating a meal that came 100% from your own land, sleeping outside next to the sugar rig during a heavy sap run - wouldn’t trade those memories for anything. We’re a heck of a lot more savvy for all the experience, too.
The years have gone by quickly. We currently live on an old farmstead a bit closer to town. We have four acres of producing apple trees and a small haying operation. We keep between 25 and 50 laying hens and raise about 100 meat birds a year for our own use. We sell organic eggs and fall ornamentals locally (pumpkins, gourds & Indian corn). We have the usual assortment of dogs, cats, horses, etc. And DH still has a day job . .
My humble two cents as you begin your homesteading journey:
1. Read, read, read. Start by reading up on local soil types, slope & drainage issues, water sources and other topics that will help you select a suitable piece of land for your homestead. Go to booksales and look for old issues of magazines that pertain to homesteading, (Countryside, Country Journal, etc.). Build a library of all the classic homesteading books. Use the web, too, of course, but don’t depend upon it entirely.
2. Talk to folks who have “been there” and who will offer constructive criticism and encouragement. Even older folks who no longer live on the land can be a good source of information, if you know how to ask the right questions. Open-ended questions, like “How did you keep chickens back in those days?” may not yield much of an answer - you’re liable to get something like “Oh, we just kept ‘em, I guess.” Specific questions like “How did you get rid of chicken lice?” or “What did you use for bedding in the winter coop?” are often easier to answer and will sometimes open a floodgate of memories and information.
3. Consider spending time at farm auctions. Farm auctions are invaluable in more ways than one - not only can you outfit your homestead with affordable and sometimes hard-to-find necessities, but in hanging around a different farm every Saturday you are bound to learn something about farm layout, building styles, etc. If it's an older farm you'll get a glimpse of someone else's attempt at homesteading, so to speak. You'll see the results of good and bad farm management. But probably the best thing about farm auctions is the people. You'll overhear plenty of "shop talk" as you mingle with the country crowd. Some of it will be worthless chatter, but if you pay close attention you might hear a discussion between two old timers about how they used to use a particular vintage piece of equipment, or the merits of a certain type of heirloom apple variety, etc. If the auctioneer is sharp he’ll have some knowledgeable old-timers assisting him during the sale who can identify any tool that comes up for auction, and tell you how it was used to boot!
4. Remember, the right five acres is worth more than the wrong fifty acres.
5. Plant those fruit trees as soon as you can!
6. Don’t be afraid to put money and work into good fencing – it will pay off tenfold.
7. Don’t listen to those who have only negative remarks to offer.
8. Keep your sense of humor. If you can’t laugh at yourself you probably shouldn’t be considering homesteading in the first place!
Good luck!