Off the grid is living off the hook

In August 2003, my husband Pete and I moved from Butte, Mont., to a 2.5-acre parcel of land located off Buffalo Mine Road. There were four unfinished cabins and two additional outbuildings on the property, one of which was a combination outhouse/storage building. The other was a small shed. We determined the property was, as Pete said, “off the grid” on our first walkabout.

The term was then unfamiliar to many, myself included. Hearing it, the phrase “hot off the griddle” came to mind. I pictured a huge pile of pancakes, smothered in butter and maple syrup. Pete set me straight that “off the grid” is a catch phrase. Electric companies sell power to businesses and homeowners, the fuel source usually being hydro, coal or natural gas. Electrical wires then carry the current to homes and businesses. Thus, those who are not connected to power lines are “off the grid.”

My self-definition of living off the grid has since grown more all-encompassing. The above definition still fits. At the same time, it also applies to people who are attempting to live in a more sustainable and ecologically sound fashion. My more broad-based definition materialized over the next decade, as Pete and I made innumerable property-related decisions.

After checking out the property, Pete and I did a neighborhood tour and in the process discovered that our neighbors’ main fuel source was gasoline. The sound of their generators was a dead giveaway. However, there was a lone exception — one individual had situated two panels in the upper branches of a birch tree.

Pete and I picked up our pace. If we stayed put we’d also be generator dependent unless we also installed solar panels and put up a wind turbine. I was for this; however, Pete, who was more knowledgeable about this kind of thing, pointed out the drawbacks. Installing a complete alternative energy set-up would be time consuming and costly. “Plus,” he added, “we’ll have to live more simply.”

“You mean I’ll have to give up my blow drier?” I asked.

“Yep.”

“And my microwave?”

“Yep.”

“And my electric can opener?”

“Yep.”

“And my waffle iron!”

“Yep.”

“No! Not the waffle iron!” I balked. Waffles are my favorite food.

I next suggested to Pete that we install a dozen solar panels. This way, I could dry my hair, microwave water for tea, open cans and eat waffles all day, every day.

Pete nixed this idea, explaining that it would require a larger battery bank than we could afford. I agreed, the additional expense was hardly worth it. I refrained from suggesting that we seek a more conventional parcel of land because this place was growing on me. The lack of electrical lines gave the area a rustic feel. Plus, living on the edge of the Matanuska Moose Range, we’d have hiking, bicycling and cross-country ski trails close to our doorstep, which was a definite draw.

Pete and I liked all this, as well as the quiet. So, a year later, we purchased the place that we named “Squalor Holler.” The squalor part was a play on J.D. Salinger’s “For Esme with Love and Squalor,” and the holler part best described the setting. Our property is located at the foothills of the Talkeetna Range.

Energy guru George Menard assisted us in developing an alternative energy system that complements our simple lifestyle. It consists of four solar panels, a wind turbine, an inverter and a battery bank. We also have an efficient back-up generator, which we run in the evenings on darker days.

We’ve also renovated and insulated the main cabin and built a kitchen addition, which includes a basement root cellar. We constructed a woodshed, which is now filled with birch and spruce. The outhouse/storage shed now has an attached greenhouse and horse tack room. We also put in three gardens and grow a good portion of our own food. Pete’s beekeeping efforts also provide us with a yearly honey source. We make our own compost. Our four Icelandic horse/ponies, three goats and two chickens are primary contributors.

Our property-related work efforts complement my more-broad based definition of the term “off the grid.” We’ve expended a great deal of physical and mental energy to make our place semi-sustainable. Had we not taken on an unconventional property, that is one that was lacking conventional power, none of this may have come to be.

Alys Culhane is a freelance writer who lives in the Buffalo Mine area.