Peaceful, organic, earth bound rest
Ambika and Carlos are charming, comfortable, self-assured, gracious, and generous. Their homestead is an evolving enclave of buildings, campers, and animal homes. Their smiles and open hearts are the first thing you notice. From our first communication, Ambika was receptive and responsive, flexible and authentic. She was concerned with ensuring we had the correct directions and personally met and guided us through the property, walking alongside the car as we headed to the campsite meandering through the property, her story unrolling regarding this land, her house, and the re-fabricated Winnebago that sits 500 feet up the mountain from her and Carlos’ house.
The property is 100+ acres of untamed and raw landscape, encrusted with the tangled material remnants of the last owners family history- machinery pieces and parts, trailers, and other collectibles. As she guides us toward the campsite, Ambika shares each piece of the story regarding acquiring this diamond in the rough, shuffling chickens along the rough-hewned driveway as we walk. Angora bunnies, raised to provide yarn for her successful clothing line, languish in their containment area in the summer heat as we pass. A large animal enclosure comes into view, red dirt as it’s base with three errant campers scattered across its plain. Out the door of two of the campers tumble a bevy of pigs, large peach colored, smaller salt and pepper skinned porcine, barking and squealing as they amble toward us across the dust.
Around a corner draped in large oak and maple leaf branches, the rented campsite comes into view and it is perfect. Set into a small incline, the pre-1980’s Winnebago is framed with a deck and porch covering. To the right facing the abode is a stone floored open kitchen complete with gas figure range, stainless steel countertops, double sink, and a full size refrigerator. Draped from the eaves and the plain plank cup boards are kitchen equipment and utensils. A mirror sets above the sink, a wise addition for light and views. Behind the kitchen lean-to emerges an open air shower. Open air meaning no walls or doors, just a shower head jutting from the wall and the heater box for water. At first sight one is set back at the prospect of showering in the open, but after a go at au natural, it is found to be quite enjoyable! If you fret, you can ask a sentry to be watchful of any approaching people or animals from the drive.
In front of the Winnebago sits a picnic bench and a large ringed fire pit. Just up the hill from the camper is a Latrine. A shallow trench in the ground is the base of the facility. It has no door. A metal tin sits on the floor next to the one seater for paper disposal. I’ve used many types of bathroom setups. This one is acceptable, however I wonder if some lye sprinkle or other natural decomposing agent might make it less odorous. After five days we had small brief wisps of it’s presence at the campsite.
From the camper the trails meander up the hill, past the exit path for the latrine and into acres of glorious woods. We foraged and wandered daily and still found new things- orange fleshed newts, albino toads, black snakes, swampy bog fields, and the twisted strewn remnants of a long ago tornado.
The camper itself was cozy. The front bed is comfortably firm and lets in beautiful filtered morning light. The back bedroom with a pocket door separator is a cocoon of comfort. The remainder of the camper has a small sink and stove but it does not compare to the big outside kitchen. A closet provides ample space for clothes. More kitchen equipment, dishes, mugs and utensils reside indoors. There is a small wood stove as well for cooler seasons.
Carlos graciously arrived with eggs and wood for the fire. We spent the first night settling in, exploring, and making a wonderful wood fired dinner.
Each morning Mia the cat would come to greet us, sometimes delivering her breakfast order of fresh caught chipmunk. Mia is a true love, cuddly and engaging.
Following Mia, Arnold the pig arrived for his morning compost. Sometimes he would bring the whole pig crew. Once the bits and pieces of fruits and vegetables were gone, the pig gang would spend the morning rooting through the soft swollen dirt and leaves surrounding the campsite. Every now and then Malu the dog would arrive, just to check on the animal crew.
We spent five nights four days on site and did not leave once. We swung in the hammock, played cards and scrabble on the deck, read, listened to podcasts and music, and generally lazed our way thru the days. A daily forest walk and a dip of the water pitcher into the icy cold spring nearby was the most effort we exerted. Also it is upstate so expect daily passing showers, which lent a dramatic harmony to the experience.
After four brutal months of front-line pandemic work, this healing space was exactly what we needed.