I did.
It was intermittent for me because I had kids and a job (until getting laid off) and lots of other responsibilities to tend to. However, during that layoff time, when there were days with no kids or girlfriend, it was extremely quiet. At first, I suffered. No income, and worse: no bites on job applications for months. I was starting to go crazy.
Then something happened, a shift. I realized, “I have this time. I’m building this fucking cabin.” That wasn’t the whole shift. That’s what started the shift. I got sick of feeling helpless.
So I set to it. Spent what little cash I had on very basic, no frills materials (like 2x6’s, 2x4’s, and nails) and I was dragging it up there every chance I had and nailing it up. I used as much lumber from around the property as I could. I used hand tools as much as possible. The foundation was every loose, flat rock dragged from a 200 foot radius. The frame was chainsaw-milled pine with mortise and tenons joining them. Etc. Hard fucking work, and of course very amateurish.
The labor up there at the cabin started to crystallize something else: I taught myself Java on my laptop. I realized my former career in IT sucked and it was time to get into the creative/analytic side. So, Java over about three months solid cabin building and programming. Best thing I did for my career, because after learning Java in that way that I did it, I now own a bunch of languages. They are easy to pick up now.
As you said, every cat is different. I have no problems with sustained periods of isolation. I like people, certain ones, but I don’t require them. Perfectly happy doing my own thing for as long as it happens to be.
I could romanticize it more. I don’t think I really have to or need to. In the picture, you can see those long angle braces holding up the eaves. Well, a robin built a nest in there right over the porch area. Every time I walked up there, she would jump out of her nest and swoop down on my head, yelling at me. It was super freaking annoying. I never did anything about it, just let her hatch her babies and then she’d leave until the next year. I could see them growing up from one of the upstairs windows. It was cute. I found bear scat about 20 feet away, once. That was rather disconcerting. Mice were everywhere, so I couldn’t have food unless it was in a sealed, hard-to-chew container. Everything else got gnawed, even my sleeping bag. Awful.
I don’t think I’m really answering your question.
Yes, I knew every inch of those woods, every tree, rock and undulation of the land. I knew the comings and goings of most of the creatures big and small. Only occasional surprises. But not just in my little woods… I was always walking around and I knew the whole landscape for probably a square mile, at least. Some people are rangers by nature, so this is hard to pick apart and attempt to see objectively. It wasn’t stressful, I’ll tell you that. The woods, nature, even big storms and winter were the least of my worries. My worries then, and still, come mainly from other people. If you have any inclination to go off and live in the woods, you should do it for a while. I could write a thousand pages on all the minutiae and how-to for living in the sticks. I found it immensely satisfying and fun. I might do it again at some point. Had to move for work, but I still find ways to get out into the woods.
He was no hermit. It probably seems like it to most city-folk types. But he was really cosmopolitan.
