Nothing made sense.
- Moving again after only a year in Iowa?
- Buying a house in need of much renovation?
- Living further from, not closer to family?
But when the prospect of moving west became real, we weighed those significant financial and logistical burdens against one overriding gain:
Open space. Read more about the journey.
As in wilderness and the peace and wonder and possibilities that go with it.
Of course, wilderness is not an inclusive guarantee here. (Nor is it nonexistent in other states.)
In fast-growing Utah, it’s easy to find a quarter-acre lot in the middle of yet another bland subdivision. But finding a home within our modest price range and with immediate access to public land at times seemed like that search for a needle in the haystack.
After looking for weeks, we found one that borders Bureau of Land Management Land. It was built 25 years ago, needs work, and has a long, curving driveway that’s steep as heck. (Walking up the quarter mile will leave you breathless. Keeping it clear of snow will be winter’s No. 1 challenge.)
While we’re ecstatic with the hundreds of miles of trails out our back door, things aren’t idyllic.
Our rugged nine acres offers next to no grass; we’ll be tossing hay year round.
The Kennecott Mine, one of the world’s largest copper mines, is right next door and blemishes a quarter of the horizon.
Did I mention the driveway?
And then there is this daily distraction.
Every time I look up from my writing work, those juniper-dotted hills beckon. I may have to put my work desk in a closet.
That faraway family? All outdoor enthusiasts, soon they may be bunking here.
