The Logistics Seem Mindboggling, and the Push to De-Clutter!

Once you move from fantasy to a determination to make a move of this magnitude, the reality of the cost of such a move begins to slowly sink in. It is approximately 3,600 miles to drive from our home to Fairbanks, Alaska, for example. That is a long way to haul one's things! The other option would be to drive to Washington State (also a long haul) and then take a ferry (actually more than one ferry, as the first would end up in a destination with no road connection to the rest of the state).

I've been exploring various options for getting to Alaska. The cheapest option would be to rent a moving truck and get a car trailer for the car, to be pulled by the moving truck. We could then use our pick-up truck to pull another trailer. Costs go up from there, of course. Having professionals haul it would cost considerably more. It looks like the most expensive option would be for us to drive all our stuff to Washington State and take ferries.

Clearly, we need to ditch anything that is not needed, or very dear to us. That is a good concept anyway, when moving. Paying to move non-essential things is bad economics. Paying to move it 3600 miles is nuts!

I'm reminded of Henry David Thoreau's comments in Walden, where he said that people are enslaved, in essence, by their possessions. When you are calculating the cost of moving things versus the idea of giving them up, his comments have the ring of truth.

Walden (Concord Library)

That, of course, brings me back to my ideals of voluntary simplicity. I have that ideal. But I look around at all of the things that we own and really do not need. Clearly, I have not lived as simply as my ideals would tell me to live. Like most Americans, I have too much stuff. We have too much stuff.

I read Walden back in college, and it inspired in me an appreciation for voluntary simplicity, although I did not hear that term used to describe the concept until many years later. I deeply appreciated his retreat to the woods and his deliberate attempt to avoid having too many possessions which would get in the way of his inner quest. But, again, as I look around me, clearly I could not fit all my stuff in a Walden sized cabin! Perhaps I need to go back and re-read Walden for some much needed inspiration.

The next step in our preparations, in addition to the on-going job hunt, will have to be a paring down of our things. We need to do some sorting, selling, and gifting to pare our belongings down to those things which will truly be needed and appreciated on the new Alaskan homestead.

Clearly, tools will need to come along. But not every stick of furniture, nor every nick-knack, nor every gadget needs to tag along on this journey. I sense some wrangling over our parting with some things - this may test us as a couple! I also sense that becoming more familiar with e-bay sales will be a part of my immediate future!

We need to pare down our belongings to the essential, the truly helpful, and then some items that are actually and truly treasures. The junk must go! Time to de-clutter!

Alaska Dreaming

The dream began when I was quite young. I read a book by Jack London, White Fang. And I was smitten by Alaska. I read more Jack London, including Call of the Wild. And I was more smitten. I read other books about mushing, and Alaska, and the history of the Gold Rush. And I dreamed.

The Call of the Wild and White Fang (Unabridged Classics)


I dreamed of living in Alaska. I would live in a cabin in the woods. I would be self-sufficient. I would be able to survive in such a wild and beautiful and terrible and wonderful place. And I would thrive there.

I did not know the term "homesteader" then. I did not know that my family lived in a semi-homesteading style, with gardening, canning, baking our own bread, making our own applesauce, making our own beef jerky, putting up a side of beef, etc. But it seemed a good way to live, even though no one else around us did it too. I wanted to take it further.

I grew up. I fell in love. I got married. He had no such dreams of Alaska. I put my Alaskan dreams on a shelf. We had a baby. I pursued homesteading. In time, my husband and I divorced. After regrouping, I settled down on a little rural property, raised my child, and homesteaded.

I gardened, cared for an orchard, kept horses, raised sheep, ducks, chickens, goats, and bees. I learned herbal medicine. I canned, I froze, I baked bread. I learned to knit, and to spin wool, and to weave. And I pursued my interests in self-sufficiency and my various passions where I found myself, far from the Alaska of my dreams.

From time to time the idea of Alaska has come back to me, but each time it did, the timing was bad. I could not move to Alaska when my child was growing up. And so it remained a pipe dream. But sometimes, I would see a cabin, in my dreams, and a forest homestead.

Recently, the dream returned to me. My child is grown. I'm in a relationship now with a man who is open to the concept. It is now, finally, do-able. It is now or never! We are not getting any younger, and if we don't do it soon, we never will.

This blog will be the place where I will share my hopes, my dreams, my struggles, and the hurdles that must be cleared so that the dream can become a reality.