Off-grid camping on a roof top in New York City.
Off-grid.
What that simple phrase conjures up for most people is an idyllic, rural paradise with a lot of space. And to be honest, that describes our property. We’re on 64 acres with brooks running through it, a pond, and a home facing out toward a prominent marsh.
Even though blocks of our land were clearcut some 10 to 15 years ago, they are starting to return, and we still have many mature stands of trees throughout our property.
We’ve only lived here for eight months now, but have seen more wildlife than in years in other spots. Just today Steph was driving back to the house along the 2.25 kilometre logging road we call our lane, and she had to brake for five deer.
Yes, we brake for deer.
We know of three packs of coyotes roaming in the immediate area. Porky, our resident porcupine, is fond of performing tenuous balancing acts on the thinnest of branches high up in birch trees. Rabbits, red squirrels, and mice are among the other mammals in the area. I’m sure we don’t see half of the wildlife that exists here.
The bird life is breath-taking: bald eagles, barred owls, rare barn swifts, osprey, ravens (we have a conspiracy of them), ruffed grouse, pileated woodpeckers, hairy and downy woodpeckers, all kinds of warblers, and hawks galore.
In fact, we had one rough-legged hawk that hung around so much last fall that I ended up dubbing it “Wheezy” for its distinctive asthmatic call.
Living rurally also comes with its own set of challenges. Jobs in my profession (journalism) are in short supply; the roads in winter can be daunting; after the last 25-centimetre snow recently, Steph spent six hours on the tractor plowing out our lane. The internet and cell receptivity are complete crap.
These are inconveniences, and we chose to live here.
But you don’t need to be on a large chunk of land to live off-grid, and, in fact, you might not even want to leave the city in the first place.
You may want high-speed fibre for your internet right to your home. You may choose the walkability of the city, and it’s vibrance, with all of its restaurants, shops, amenities, and more. So why not go off-grid?
Well, I can think of a few reasons.
With the shorter days of winter, and the typical Nova Scotia cloud cover, it is often necessary to run a generator once a week to help supplement the power to your solar panels. Neighbours aren’t likely to embrace the noise and fumes once a week.
Still, that might be something overcome by just meeting with your neighbours and explaining what you’re doing, and why, and telling them that once a week they may hear some noise. Maybe bring them a bottle of wine or a pie to help sweeten the deal?
Water.
I don’t know enough to say if you’d be able to unhook from civic water. (Seriously, I don’t pretend to have all the answers.) I’m honestly not sure what you’d draw upon for your source or even if it would be legal. You, the reader, may want to weigh in on that one. I’m guessing within the city you’d be hooped, and have to still draw on a civic source, and pay a water bill.
In terms of heat, you could have a wood stove, but would have to pay for firewood.
But here’s the deal: Why even think about urban off-grid?
Because we can’t continue down the same path any longer.
I’m not going to get into the whole climate crisis debate here. It’s complex, and besides this this guy explains it way more succinctly than I ever could. Please read Roy Scranton’s editorial in The New York Times. It’s important.
All I’m saying is land is limited, and, besides, not everyone wants to be outside of an urban centre, so we need to look at different ways to do things.
As it turns out, I’m not the first (surprise, surprise) to ponder this idea. Check out this cool post Again, it doesn’t cover all the bases, but it shows a way forward.
Urban off-grid. Maybe it’s not so far-fetched after all.
Have you heard of this? Looks very promising for rural internet access.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Starlink