The Mound is thinking about goin' coastal. A parcel of land, 25-acres, with about 500-feet of sheltered and deeded waterfront way up-island. Rugged, mainly mountainous, plenty of hydro-electric potential. Abundant freshwater. At least three ideal building sites 20 to 40 feet above the high tide line. Abundant freshwater. 2 to 3 acres readily suitable for gardens. Accessible by boat or floatplane. Nearest neighbour less than half a mile distant. Nearest port/village/gas barge about half an hour by boat.
1,000 sq. ft. cabin with one outbuilding and boathouse/floating dock plus a cold cellar and a smokehouse. Solar panels and satellite dish. Wood heat and wood stove. And my hounds.
Fish and game plentiful and for the taking. I have plenty of fishing gear and firearms for both purposes, the latter also for predator protection.
Why? I'm not one of those survivalists or whatever they call them these days. The best years of my life have been the most adventurous whether learning to fly jets in the air force or riding motorcyles through Europe and North Africa. The idea of going off-grid and learning self-sufficiency is a wonderful challenge but I have no illusions that it will not exact a cost either.
I know I'll be preparing the place where I will, in all likelihood, die. My ticker is a bit wonky and it won't be getting better - not in this life anyway. You can't summon an ambulance where I want to be but that's part of the bargain. You die where you stand. Most of you should be so lucky.
Above all else I want to go back. I want to shed the trappings of modern, urban life. I want to think of Costco as a place you visit twice a year. I want to hear quiet, day and night. I want to spend hours gazing into the brilliance of the true night sky. I want to connect to something that doesn't need or want or demand to connect to me. I want to be "that crazy, old man up around the point." That'll do just fine.