Primal Urges

Every time I light a fire and smell the smoke – most recently in the context of getting the grill going – something in my very core is awoken; something that wants me to own a big chunk of land in the mountains with a cabin or something, where we can go and cook stuff over a fire. Make a fire pit. Explore. And all that.

We already live in the mountains, but we're in a relatively densely populated neighborhood with an HOA and all of that. At first glance it might seem like "you're already there!" but you can't chop down a tree without HOA approval. There are countless rules (good and bad) to keep the neighbors and neighborhood desirable. It's not bad, but it doesn't "scratch the itch".

Years ago, my wife and I looked at an empty lot. It was 60-something acres. It was technically in a neighborhood. Most of the other lots were of a similar size, if you can imagine that. There was a large, stocked lake. A nice creek. Gravel roads. Utility power to each lot. It was a pretty awesome development. We didn't end up buying because the developer insisted that we use his surveyor to survey the lot and his closing attorney for the real estate transaction. Combined with his sketchy realtor, it sounded like a scam. We walked away.

One day.