Patrick Hutchison Shares His D.I.Y. Adventures in ‘Cabin’
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From KQED in San Francisco, I'm Leslie McClurg in today for Mina Kim. Coming up on Forum, in his 20s, Patrick Hutchison had a good job, a steady paycheck, and absolutely no idea what he was doing with his life. He felt trapped by a desk job, writing marketing emails, until he saw a Craigslist ad for a tiny cabin in the woods, which was actually more like a collapsing shack. He was

Next thing he knew, he handed over $7,500 and found himself knee-deep in sawdust and a whole lot of YouTube tutorials. His book, Cabin, chronicles the ups and downs of trying to live off the grid. That's next after this news. This is Forum. I'm Leslie McClurg. I'm in today for Mina Kim.

I grew up in Seattle, and in high school and in college, I spent a lot of time driving up to this tiny mountain town called Index. It's this little place that's tucked up in the woods. It's surrounded by these stunning snow-capped peaks, and there's this beautiful river running through it. There's these sheer granite walls that rise above the banks. And at the time, I was a really avid rock climber, and so I went there for the rock climbing.

But Patrick Hutchison, he went there basically to disappear. He walked away from a stable desk job in Seattle, and he bought a rundown shack in the woods right near Index, and he set out to build himself a new life, per se, armed with nothing but a romantic vision and maybe very limited carpentry skills. His new book, Cabin, is about that adventure, and he joins me now to talk about what he learned. Welcome, Patrick. Hi, Leslie. Thanks for having me.

And so I'm curious, you know, you have a desk job, you have a steady job, you have a paycheck, you're in your 20s, but you're having a kind of an existential crisis. What was going on for you that led you to the cabin? Yeah, you know, I think I was like so many people at that age really trying to figure out what

what was going on with my life and watching friends that seemed to be kind of figuring it out, whether they were having kids or going to grad school or really doubling down on careers that they seemed super engaged with. And I didn't have that. I didn't have a feeling of purpose or of direction. Shortly after college, I had this dream of being a sort of gonzo journalist, travel writer person.

Make it in the big bucks? Exactly. Yeah. Nothing pays like travel writing. But yeah, it wasn't really working out. I had done assignments. I had done internships for years. I had sort of chased that dream. But what it had sort of led me into for a stable income is doing a lot of marketing, copywriting, basically a desk job. And

At some point, it was just sort of like this, you know, something has to change, but I have no idea what direction to turn to.

And I had this idea that maybe if something else that seemed responsible and purpose driven was going on in life, that maybe that would make up for the job. And so I started looking for real estate. Maybe I would buy a house, but it turns out I couldn't afford one. Seattle's a little expensive. Yeah, yeah. And I mean, this was too, you know, just after the housing bust when houses up here were probably as cheap as they're going to be for a long time. Yeah.

But I started looking further and further out of Seattle and started seeing these cabins and became obsessed with the idea of having a place out in the woods, but couldn't afford those either. And I was on Craigslist one night. Our house had been robbed, and I was looking for things that had been stolen from our house. Maybe they would turn up on Craigslist. And on a whim, I just typed cabin into the search results and found

found this little spot out in index you were just talking about for $7,500. And it was just this totally rundown, tiny, tiny little place. And I was just like, oh,

Maybe this is it. Maybe I found it. Maybe this is your big responsibility flag. You planted a flag of responsibility. All dreams of it being a responsible thing, I think, sort of flew out the window. And I was just like, I don't care if this doesn't make any sense, but this is what I want. This is where I need to be.

I'd love for you to read a passage so folks can get a visual. I think you did a really beautiful job of writing about index. It's a very unique place. So can you start reading where it says, My Eyes Locked on the Top Result? Yeah. My Eyes Locked under the Top Result. Tiny Cabin in Index.

I knew Index. The little outpost hemmed in by brutally beautiful mountains consisted of a shabby mini-mart whose shelves of dust-covered beans and out-of-date camping equipment never seemed to change, a small coffee shop whose open sign was always illuminated even though the door was always locked, and an adventure rafting company that offered guided trips down the Skykomish River.

Apart from that, Index maintained a volunteer-run fire station, a small collection of cabins, a school, and a decrepit inn that had been neglected for decades despite a constant stream of new owners with grand plans to renovate. My visits to the town were always quick stops on my way to hikes or camping spots. Index was the last chance to stock up on ice or a few cases of cheap beer before diving deeper into the mountains. But it wasn't the town's name that drew my attention to the ad.

It was the picture and the price. The simple, tiny cabin was set against a backdrop of moss-laden trees. Only 10 by 12 feet, it looked more like a big chicken coop than anything else. I knew people that had larger places to store their lawnmowers. Architecturally, it took inspiration from drawings of houses made by preschoolers. Box on bottom, triangle on top.

All around it, the forest floor was covered in a sea of bright ferns. Here and there, the first leaves of fall added a pop of gold or crimson, donated by a few mature maple trees that towered overhead. Nestled into the forest, the cabin begged for someone to cozy up inside, light a fire, take a slug of whiskey, and let the world drift away, all for the price of a used Hyundai. They were asking $7,500.

I sent an email immediately, requesting more info and a visit as nonchalantly as possible, so as not to appear overeager. When I heard from the owner the next afternoon, the reply was quick and equally casual. Yeah, that's no problem. The key is above the door. It's the fourth place on the left up on Whitsend Place.

I have to admit, I kind of got stuck in the very beginning because those dusty bean cans at the store, I think they're the same ones that were there when I was in high school because they were gathering dust. They're still there now. Exactly. $7,500, that's kind of mind-boggling and sounds pretty unreal. What did the cabin look like and what was it like when you went to visit it that first time?

Yeah, when I went that first time, you know, it was the pictures did it justice. It wasn't much to see. And it's tiny. I mean, it's smaller than I mean, 10 by 12 feet is pretty clear. But to put it, it's smaller than most like bedroom, like a small bedroom. Yeah.

And it had the look of something that had just been kind of cobbled together by someone kind of like a weekend warrior over years and years. None of the wood matched. Nothing was, you know, kind of straight or level or plumb. And yet you bought it and yet you went for it. The benefit is that I had no idea what I was doing. And so all of these things that now I know that it

you know, had, had all these problems back then. I was just sort of like this kind of, I think it just, if I just sweep this thing out, it'd probably be fine. Um, but no, it had, I mean, there was no drive. It was the driveway was just a swamp. The deck wasn't covered. Um, nothing was insulated. Yeah. No toilet, no electricity, no water, no wifi, no cell signal, no anything. And up to this point, what were your carpentry skills?

Non-existent. I mean, I could hanging pictures was I was pretty good at that. But that was about I was good at working on my bike when I delivered sandwiches for Jimmy John's. But those were about the the extents of my carpentry skills.

And yet you had these visions, you're going to chop some wood, you're going to sweat in the sun, maybe swim in the river, sit by the fire in the evenings. Yeah. Is that how it played out? Yeah, it was a lot of these sort of like montage daydreams that I had of just like,

Yeah, sort of like just commercials of friends and I, you know, tearing through some wood and big clouds of sawdust and then, you know, cheers and beers by the river and campfires. And yeah, all of these just wonderful scenes sort of played out in my mind. And did they ever play out in reality? They did. I mean, I think what's what's funny is that all those things, you know, sort of they did eventually happen. But I think what was most surprising to me about

Buying that place and the work and the years that came after it is that the things that were ultimately the most fulfilling and enjoyable and gratifying about it were not the things that I imagined they would be. And what were they? It was just this intense sense of engagement and purpose and compulsion that.

I had never had before in life and just being obsessed with the problems of renovating and fixing up this place. And also having, I think, a quiet escape to go to and think and be alone and sort of process these ideas of what I wanted to do with my life. Just sort of have that place to retreat to was something that I didn't realize I needed as much as I did.

Originally, the story got out into the world from an outside article that went viral. I think Brian penned it, which was your kind of carpentry partner. Tell us about Brian. Yeah, Brian and I co-wrote that story. He was a friend that I made on a writing trip. Actually, we were both covering outdoor gear at an exposition in Salt Lake City for the same company. And we met

out there and quickly became friends. And he was also trying to be a writer. And so initially we bonded over this dream of becoming these really hip, cool journalists. He got a lot closer to that dream. He was a staff reporter at Mother Jones for several years. And

But we would often sort of commiserate over our desk job realities. And he also had a passion for building. And so at the time that I was sort of fixing up the cabin, he was fixing up a boat in Oakland, actually. And we would sort of visit each other to help out on projects and things like that. And would often talk about this fantasy of like, what if we quit our jobs and just built cabins for a living?

Which is what we ended up doing. And it's sort of the end of this book is that decision. And the outside article is chronicling that journey of leaving our jobs and building a cabin from scratch out in the woods. I'm curious from our audience, what would it take folks? What would it take you to quit your job and do what Patrick is describing? Move out to the woods, maybe start renovating a dilapidated cabin?

I would love to hear about it. Or folks who are maybe involved in a DIY project that has also taken over their life. What did you learn from it? Or maybe audience members, how do you escape from modern life? Is it a cabin? Is it the ocean? Is it something else? Email your comments, your questions to forum at kqed.org. You can find us on Blue Sky, Facebook, Instagram, or on Twitter.

or threads, we're at kqedforum. Or you can just give us a call at 866-733-6786. Again, that's 866-733-6786. I would love to hear your stories. We are joined by Patrick Hutchinson. He's a writer and a carpenter, and his new book is Cabin, Off the Grid Adventures with a Clueless Craftsman. Stay with us. We'll be right back after this break.

Xfinity Mobile was designed to save you money. So you get high speeds for low prices. Better than

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You're listening to Forum. I'm Leslie McClurg. I'm in today for Mina Kim. And I'm talking with Patrick Hutchinson. He's a writer and a carpenter. And his new book is Cabin, Off-the-Grid Adventures with a Clueless Craftsman. Patrick, right there, you mentioned that you were a clueless craftsman. And earlier you said, you know, maybe you could hang a picture, but not much more. Is there a story that kind of illustrates a stumbling adventure early on with trying to make sense of building this thing?

Yeah, one of the most challenging aspects early on was trying to put a wood stove into the cabin. And I had...

The idea to just have a little wood stove and send the chimney up through the roof, but had never done anything like that, of course. And the idea of cutting a hole in the roof was terrifying to me. And one of the hardest parts of figuring all that out were just how the various chimney components went together. And I would watch all these YouTube videos of people putting...

chimneys together, but it would always be like they'd talk about the parts and then the video would just cut and they'd be making a fire. And then that's how that works. And so I would go into...

uh, stores like Home Depot or other hardware stores like that. And I would try and find, you know, these different chimney components and just like assemble them in the aisle and just see how they all went together. And then sort of try to retroactively figure out what I needed to put it in. And often people would be, you know, coming down the aisle and people asking me if I needed help and being too embarrassed. Yeah.

to say that I was like oh no I'm just browsing I would have this sort of like Frankenstein chimney thing built in the aisle uh oh no I'm just checking this stuff out

Yeah. So things like that. I would often go to the hardware store and just kind of like monkey around with stuff and try and figure out because the last thing I wanted to do was was ask somebody for help because I was terrified of betraying how little I knew. A little ego in the way there. Well, let's go to the phones. Lucy in San Francisco has a question for you. Lucy, you're on the air.

Hi, it's Lucy. This is a wonderful story. I also have a similar dream of buying a cabin in the woods, but also turning it into sort of like a bookstore coffee shop. But actually, from your first time going into the cabin and sweeping it out to getting electricity and plumbing for a bathroom and that stove for the fireplace. So how long did it actually take?

Well, it's an embarrassing answer for a couple of reasons. One is that I worked on that place for about six years. And in that time, I did not add electricity. I did not add plumbing. I did not add a septic system. It was functionally almost exactly the same. Not really on the fast path there. No, no, no, no. Yeah.

Yeah, it always stayed a purely off-grid place. And that was partly born out of not understanding how to make it different and also a desire to kind of

keep the character of it the same. I think at the same time that I was sort of maybe learning how adding those things might come about, I was also coming to appreciate the absence of them. Um, so when I thought about adding electricity and then realizing that I really wanted to just stick with having hurricane lamps and candles, um, that I liked that contrast from, from being at home and the same thing for, for plumbing and, um,

And all that kind of stuff that I liked. I liked it being a little hard and a little challenging out there. Made it more fun. Jeff writes, where did you get your water? Or if you're in a place where it rains a lot, how did you stay dry? I think there was a river there and it rains a lot in the Northwest. So answers for Jeff?

Yeah, so to put it into perspective, you know, Seattle for its reputation gets about a third as much rain as index does. So it is constantly raining out there. And more than that, even if it stops raining, it still feels like it's raining because there's so many trees and they just drip constantly for hours after it actually stops raining. So a lot of places out there just sort of sank into the earth from decay. Yeah.

And we would just bring water in big jugs. Certainly, you know, a rain catch would have been very successful. But then figuring out how to filter it and power the filters and do all that kind of stuff. You know, a couple of five gallon jugs were more than adequate for a weekend stay.

A listener writes, I kayaked the North Fork of the Skykomish countless times, beginning in the mid-70s on rainy days, on rare, sunny, beautiful days in the snow, and once even in the dark at night under a full moon. Its clean water, continuous rapids, blue-green colors are unforgettable to me and one of the happy places in my mind forever. It is a stunning spot. Yeah.

A lot of listeners are asking sort of how to get started. So for someone like me, I can't even hang a picture frame. At least you could do that. I can't hang a picture frame. But what are some of your suggestions? What would you tell yourself if you go back in time and do it again? Or for those of us who maybe have that dream but don't have the skills? Yeah, I think if you have a curiosity about it, I think that there's...

There are so many ways to access the enjoyment that comes from it without having to, you know, you have to quit your job and buy a cabin and do all of these things. But I think like building a little thing in your backyard or building something in a friend's yard or just like, I don't know, take apart your blender or something. I don't know. I think that if there's curiosity there to sort of work with your hands and build things and create things, yeah.

you know, you can do it on such a small scale. And I think for me, it, I got very, very lucky that it was such an accessible, I guess, financially to, to do that thing. But,

I think that any project can sort of, if it can pique your interest and satisfy your curiosity, then it just kind of kicks the can down the road and doesn't have to be this great life-changing moment. It can be just these little steps. Elaborate on what you mean there by it was a financial success.

Not financial success. It was financially accessible to buy that cheap cabin and work on it. A listener asks, was YouTube really an effective teacher to learn everything that needed to be done? And how did you afford the equipment and the gas for driving back and forth?

YouTube was helpful in some ways. The cabin made it sort of difficult because often you'd look on YouTube and it would, you know, it would assume that whatever project you were working on, that it was happening in a house that was built to normal code standards, that studs would be 16 inches on center, that floors would be level and plum and things would be insulated and weatherproofed. And, you know,

you know, the cabin met none of those requirements. And so often I'd, you know, watch a YouTube video and, okay, that's how that works. And then I'd get out to the cabin and nothing would look like it did in the videos. And so you had to sort of invent solutions and get creative, which was, you know, one of my favorite parts of it. And there was no cell signal out there to, you know, go back and research in the moment. And so it kind of felt like,

taking a big breath of knowledge and then going underwater for a weekend and trying to figure things out and, you know, coming back with notes to learn more for the next trip up.

Ron writes, I built a cabin in the woods and the county red tagged and closed it down because my spring wasn't an approved water source and a simple cesspool wasn't sufficient, nor was a composting toilet. In order to do it legally, it was nearly impossible and the regulations are getting more restrictive. Is it less restrictive in Washington or did you have issues with regulations and permits?

Yeah, you know, I think it's a very, you know, case by case basis. I don't know how Washington compares to other places. I just don't have experience in those other places. But I think that there's a general sense of, you know, if you're under square footage requirements, that there are, you know, opportunities if, you know, it's just sort of a weekend retreat. You know, the technicalities of that, I think, vary so much by, you know, even, you know,

county by county and you know regions within that county that it can really be very very specific to where you are we hinted at index as being a really kind of unique community it's a very eclectic mix um you know it's kind of small town in the woods it's gotten hit pretty hard by meth unfortunately but there's also this very avid outdoorsy community how did the locals treat you were you welcomed in were you an outsider

Yeah, that was an interesting thing because the first time that I went up to this neighborhood, you know, there were a lot of, you know, places that were clearly overtaken by squatters and things like that. And you look up index, at least back then, and you would find a lot of news articles that, you know, didn't exactly paint the cheeriest picture of what the community was like. But for all my nerves about that,

I met so many wonderful people and neighbors and people in the community that I was in that were always, you know, checking on the place and offering to share firewood and tools and lend a hand and and

forged those, you know, bonds that I had never had with neighbors living in the city. Um, and it seemed like a sort of immediate camaraderie that existed between folks who chose to spend their time out there. Um, that there was something that they all sort of shared innately just by virtue of their presence, um, in that environment. And I think that that was one of my, um,

most cherished parts of the whole experience was meeting those people and forming relationships with them. What about the kind of ominous message that you got from someone on the Mount Index Riversites community website? Tell us about that. Yeah, I think that there was one of the board members had said, you know, it's not

You may not get a cheery welcome, but, you know, we're an eclectic mix of people and, you know, happy to have you sort of join in on the fun. And so it was sort of I wasn't sure what to make of it, but it turned out wonderful. And I've built cabins and spent a lot of time in that community since then. And I'm happy to say that I've got a lot of friends in there.

A listener asked, this is a good one. It's freezing in the Cascades. So how did you stay warm? The little wood stove that we put in, you know, just this little 1920s Sears and Roebuck potbelly wood stove. But even on the coldest days when trees would literally be exploding in the forest because they were freezing, we would have to have the windows cracked open because of how hot it got in that little cabin. It was like a sauna when you really got it.

really got it roaring. So never had trouble staying warm. Certainly when the fire died and you woke up in the morning, things would be pretty chilly. But if we were able to make a fire, we were always able to stay nice and warm. Another listener asks, what's the longest stint that you stayed in the cabin? How long were you there?

Well, the outside article that you mentioned when my friend Brian and I built that cabin was in the same neighborhood. And so we actually lived at this place on Wits End that's described in the book for about four months while we built the cabin. And so we were there pretty much full time, the two of us living in this tiny 10 by 12, you know, me upstairs in the loft and Brian sleeping on the couch below. So yeah.

That was certainly the longest period of time that I stayed up there. And one night you took some psychedelic mushrooms at the cabin. Tell us about that experience. Yeah, that is a divisive chapter or polarizing chapter in the book. It was such a safe space for so many reasons that if we were going to do something like that, it was sort of the obvious choice option.

And, and really was just such a wonderful backdrop to explore those experiences and, and,

was such a great place to go and romp through the woods and go on hikes and things like that and then have conversations late into the night, kind of processing the deeper thoughts that we were having about life and what we wanted to do with our lives and the direction that we were going. And I think it was a lot of those late nights that we've really got into conversations about

Maybe we could leave our jobs and do something like this full time and build and work with our hands. And maybe that's not such a crazy idea. It really kind of gave weight to those notions.

We'd love to hear from audience. Maybe they have a, do you have a DIY project that kind of has taken over your life? We'd love to hear maybe what you've learned from it. Or maybe how do you escape modern life? Is it going to the ocean? Is it a cabin? Is it something else?

Have you ever quit your job and maybe followed one of those romantic visions that I think we've all had sitting at our desk jobs? Email your comments, your questions to forum at kqed.org. You can find us on Blue Sky, Facebook, Instagram. We're at KQED Forum. Or just give us a call at 866-733-6786. Again, that's 866-733-6786. I'd love to hear your story.

Trudy writes, we naively bought a fixer-upper in the summer of 2019. My entire life outside of this fixer-upper has been put on hold while I figure it out. I have a love-hate relationship with the process. I think it's important not to romanticize the experience. It's very hard. Every day is a crash course in construction, materials, county regulations. I do not think I would do it over if I knew what I would know now. However, at the time, it was the only house we could afford in the area. We wanted to be in that bank

we wanted to be in that bank would lend it on. We barely made it through funding. My fingers are crossed that 2025 is my final year of fixing upping. I look forward to reading your book. Good luck, Trudy. I think my brother has a similar story. He spent three years of his life that he wished he had back building his house. Do you have any regrets? Would you go back and do it any different? I don't think so, Patrick. But would you tell yourself something else?

No, I mean, I think if anything, I would just do it sooner. And certainly I think that there's a big difference between if you're building a house as a sort of necessity in life and certainly a project of that magnitude, I imagine that there is a lot of frustration and stress and fear that comes along with that process. Yeah.

The great thing about the cabin is that it was sort of just all the good stuff. I could work on it or not work on it whenever I wanted. And for that reason, it was so voluntary that it kind of became...

it was more powerful the message that I think I got from it that I really enjoyed it because there was no reason for me to be out there working on it. It was just something that I felt compelled for one reason or another to do. You know, I didn't think that it was going to be an investment that I would make money on. I didn't need to live there. It was inconvenient to get to. And it costs money to be putting into there that I could have been spending on other things or just saving. And so I think it really kind of boiled it down to

an experience that was just purely for the enjoyment of it. Let's sneak in a quick call. Let's go to the phones. Art from Santa Rosa. Yes, hi.

Thank you. Interesting show. I really appreciate this. I'm just curious, when you mentioned that you didn't have much plumbing or had no plumbing, how did you take care of, if you will, number one and number two? Well, I know about number one, but did you do...

Did you do a cat-like thing where you dig and bury or what? There was an old outhouse pit that we built an outhouse or rebuilt an outhouse structure above. So that was our primary bathroom. And then, you know, in the cabin, there was a little sink that literally just had a bucket under the sink that we would empty out at the end of the weekend.

Right. And so to stay clean, instead of taking a shower, would you do a kind of a country bath thing? We would just go swimming in the river. Art, I got to tell you, this river is so stunning. It's freezing cold. So I'm not sure how you did that, but it's a really beautiful place to get clean.

I'd love to hear from listeners. Maybe there's a DIY project that has been tugging on your heart, or maybe you're in the midst of it. Maybe it's taken over your life. Tell us about it. Maybe there's ways that you escape modern life, or maybe you have a romantic vision of how you would love to escape modern life.

Email your comments, your questions to forum at kqed.org. Or you can find us on Blue Sky, Facebook, Instagram. We're at KQED Forum, or you can just give us a call now at 866-733-6786. Again, that's 866-733-6786. I'll sneak in a quick comment here from Chris. When the alternative of affording a conventional home is slogging through a meaningless career, it's understandable that there has been a recent obsession.

of unconventional living for Gen X and Gen Zers. There's many great YouTube influencers that bring the fantasy to us dreamers. Check out Bush Radical, Destination Adventure or Martin Doulard. We'll be right back after this break.

You're listening to Forum. I'm Leslie McClurg. I'm in today for Mina Kim, and I'm talking with Patrick Hutchinson. He's a writer and a carpenter who followed his romantic vision and built a cabin in the woods. His new book is Cabin, Off-the-Grid Adventures with a Clueless Craftsman. We'd love to hear about your romantic visions of how you've abandoned modern life. Give us a call at 866-733-6786. That's 866-733-6786.

A listener writes, I love following home renovation journeys on social media. It's so inspirational to watch people undertake these projects, restoring old homes, learning skills, and building supportive community around it.

At the time you were doing this, Patrick, you had a girlfriend named Kate, who is now your wife. You mentioned that you were kind of shacking up with Brian. He's sleeping downstairs. You're up in the loft in this cabin. So what did your girlfriend think about this choice, this lifestyle choice and spending all of your free time building this cabin in the woods?

Uh, she was very, very supportive early on. Um, it was nice at that time in our lives. We had, uh,

sort of out of necessity, moved into a home with some of our best friends just south of Seattle. And so while I was away building the cabin, she was sort of rooming up with very good friends back at home. So I think that that made it a little bit easier. But yeah, it was definitely hard to be away for that long. And we built a second cabin a few years later and she had to go through the same thing again. But

But she's always been incredibly supportive of those choices. Let's go to the phones. Juan in Oakland, you're on the air. Hello. Yeah, I just wanted to share my story of my friend that helped me rebuild my RV on the streets of Oakland. He himself was homeless due to a contract that made him dead.

Juan, I'm really sorry. Your line is not so great. Can I ask you to give us a call back and we'll get you back on the air? But the line is really tough. Let's go to another caller, Noah in Oakland. You're on the air. Hi. I was lucky enough to get a job in my 20s as a wilderness biologist at Sequoia National Park. And I spent four months of my summer for three seasons living out at the Kern Ranger Station, tiny one-room structure, log cabin, and I was able to get a job there.

over 100 years old. And, you know, we had a wood-burning stove as our only source of heat. We had a creek that was our only source of water and a wood-fired water tank to take showers, composting toilet. And it remains one of the most formative experiences of my life. And

one of my fondest memories. There were some contacts with people while I was out there, but the experience of solitude in a place like that when I know it's going to take me two days to walk to the nearest road and

And I really, you know, I can't get out even if I wanted to rapidly unless I have an emergency and I'm taking the helicopter. My food came in on the back of a mule on a pack train every two weeks as well as some mail. And I really think in a world where we are so connected all the time and expected to respond to things so rapidly, it was really...

really an incredible contrast to what it's like to be, you know, what we call in the front country where my phone's ringing, I have to go do this and that. Noah, would you do it again? Would you do it again? Absolutely.

Absolutely. Absolutely. I mean, it's still one of my favorite places and I try to go out there recreationally whenever I can. It's, I feel like a part of my soul is still there. And, you know, I guess on top of that, I was lucky enough to see my family. They hiked out to visit me at one point. And it was the last place that I saw my dad. He unfortunately passed away about two weeks after I saw him out there. And so the Kern Ranger Station will always have a piece of my heart. And I just want to encourage everyone

Everyone who is listening to find a way to find an experience of solitude. I think it'll change you forever. Thank you for sharing, Noah. Let's stick with the phones. Juan in Oakland is back with us. Juan, go ahead.

Yeah, I just wanted to share my story with my friend that helped me rebuild my house. He's an ex-contractor. He himself is home as is I, and he helped me rebuild my RV. He just passed away this week. Beautiful man. It's so hard. Oh, yeah. Juan, I'm so sorry to hear him.

But such a beautiful person. So giving in every way. It sounds like he did a beautiful job of helping you create a home for yourself in Oakland. Yeah, he was old. He couldn't do the things for me. He would sit there and tell me how to do it. Do this, move that over there, and cut this over here. It was so beautiful. Great. So beautiful.

Do you want to say his name on the air so we can just have a moment of remembrance? Ed. Ed. Ed Eng. Well, thank you, Ed, so much. He is the last name. Thank you. I miss him so much. Of course. Thank you for this time. Of course, of course. Take care of yourself. Let's stick with the phones. Jenna in San Francisco, you're on the air.

Hi. Yeah, one of the things that my husband and I are currently looking into is Japan is trying to lure foreigners to buy property there because it's really affordable and their population can't necessarily...

live in all the housing or can't fill up the housing. So there's this company called Akiya Mart where you can look for these really inexpensive old Japanese houses to buy. And there's like YouTubers who are doing this successfully and it's really inspiring. Are you going to do it?

Well, we'd like to. Yeah, we're looking into it. It's much more affordable than buying in the Bay Area. Excellent. Well, call us back and tell us how it goes. Thanks for sharing, Jenna.

Raquel writes, And a listener on Blue Sky asks,

Yeah, there are salmon and trout there for sure. And I have tried many times fishing, but have always come up unsuccessful. Though it seems like everyone around me is having great success pulling fish out of the river. So I'm guessing it's more of a problem with me than with the river. Me too. I have yet to catch a fish anywhere I've ever gotten. So if you learn, if you get that knack down, let me know.

Patrick, eventually you sold the cabin. Tell us why you sold it and what did it look like at the end? Yeah, it probably from a distance looked kind of similar. Like a chicken coop still? Exactly. Yeah, the shape had not changed.

No, I mean, it had really been when I bought it, you know, it was just this sort of like cold, musty, unfinished, forgotten place. And when I bought

sold it, it had certainly improved a lot. There was a driveway, there was a deck, the inside was finished out and cozy and dry. There was a new roof. The foundation issues had been corrected. There was an outhouse that was unfortunately nearly full, but it was a much different spot than when I had originally gone there. And the reason I sold it is

Because after all of that work, and I'd sort of finished the projects that I wanted to do, and the cabin was effectively done, I still wanted to work on things and build things. And I was faced with this decision where I realized, oh, probably the only options here are, you know, to...

to totally redo all these projects now that I know more, maybe start from scratch, tear down the cabin and build something new in its place that with these new skills would be much better. But all of the mistakes and the bad cuts and the bent nails and the broken screws,

of that place really bore the memories of the experiences with, you know, friends and family that had worked on it with me. And so I really couldn't bear to change it. But I wanted to do more. And so it kind of felt like, oh, if I want to fall in love again with a place and with a project that I kind of have to

go somewhere new and start something fresh. And so I sold the cabin in order to sort of fund that opportunity. So you bought it for $7,500. How much did you sell it for? Well, I bought it for $7,500. I did buy the lot next to it for another $8,000. So I think, you know, and with materials and things, I was probably in $25,000 or $30,000. And I think I sold it for $52,000.

Did you ever calculate an hourly what you were? Yeah, probably not great. And even more challenging is the fact that it's sold a year after I sold it for twice the amount. So that did not make me feel better. But COVID was a very lucrative time for cabin real estate. You know, when the whole world is telling you to get away from each other, a small cabin in the woods became a very valuable asset.

Lubav writes,

In contrast, Carol writes, the idea of building DIY projects is very romantic. I've seen too many people get completely caught up in projects, leaving others to keep, quote, real life going. As an effect, I'm no longer married to one of those people.

Good point, good point. Richard in Piedmont, you're on the air. Yeah, the word project is actually why I'm calling. I didn't have the experience of the solitude, but in my backyard in Piedmont, I built a 4x4x8. What started out as being a tool shed, but I ended up framing, hanging windows, hanging doors, sheet rocking, hanging the ceiling.

And the joy that I got from that was well worth the experience. And again, I wasn't in the wilderness, though. Great story, Richard. Thanks for sharing. I'm Leslie McClurg. I'm in today for Mina Kim and you're listening to Forum. We're talking to Patrick Hutchinson. He's a writer, a carpenter, and his book is Cabin, Off the Grid Adventures with a Clueless Craftsman.

I'd love for you to read another excerpt from your book, Patrick. This is a note that you left behind for the owners of the cabin. Yeah, no problem. Dear Newcomer, I was 17 when I left the house where I grew up to move to college. It took me 10 years to find another place that felt like home. This was my first cabin. It was purchased on a whim the day after I saw it. At the time, it was just a shell of what it is now.

There was no flooring, no deck, no driveway, no stove. Friends and I poured ourselves into making this our home away from home. In the process of doing so, more laughter, tears, and memories went into this place than I will ever be able to account for. We ate fat ribeye steaks cooked on an old camp stove, shoveled countless loads of gravel around the driveway, and shot BB guns with our morning coffee.

We picked salmon berries and fiddleheads in the spring and sat around campfires in the fall. We cooled our feet in the river every summer, and we waited greedily for the first snowfall every winter. This was our clubhouse, our escape, our retreat. It was the base camp for so many unexpected adventures and will be forever remembered as the setting for so many favorite stories. On the surface, it might not be much: a 10x12 room with a bucket for plumbing.

But I hope that you're buying this place because you see in it what I did back then. You see that when the oil lamps are just right, and you've got something good warming on the stove, and you've put your feet up next to a crackling wood stove, when you've got everything just the way you like it, at that moment, the outside world disappears for a bit, and you'll swear the sparks coming out of the chimney are pure magic.

This is what the cabin gave me and the people that I love. I'm thrilled it's someone else's turn now. Enjoy. You'll see that I left you with a little gift: some pinion incense and an oil lamp. I used each of these every time I visited the cabin. I encourage you to try them on a cold winter night to cozy up the place after you've shoveled the driveway clear of snow. Use them on balmy summer evenings to light the deck and keep the mosquitoes away.

Use them with friends. Use them when alone. Use them whenever you need to feel like you've escaped somewhere, just for a night. I promise they'll make this little cabin come alive. I mean, that's a romantic vision. If you've planted a seed, that really did it. I bet a lot of people are going to go running to the woods after that beautiful passage.

Sue writes,

An outhouse served as our bathroom. We had a bathtub that we filled with water and heated from below with a fire. Lamps were kerosene at night, and we'd sit at our round oak table to read, play board games, or draw. We were red-tagged in the mid-70s and began to bring our place up to code. Although I've moved back to the Bay Area, I still have that house and that land. Years later, it is still dear to my heart. Thanks for writing in, Sue."

Patrick, this book is obviously not just about building a cabin. It's more about how you built yourself. So how did you change? How would you summarize how you changed through the process? You know, I think I changed in a way that was certainly more confident, more sure of myself, more creative, and a lot more content, you know, maybe as a result of those things than I was before. And I think

I mean, certainly building is my full-time job. It is not always great. It's often frustrating and hard and, you know, cold and raining when you're outside working in the Pacific Northwest. But I think the, the,

the sum total of my happy days and content times are far greater than they were before. And I think I owe so much to the impulsive decision to buy this crappy little cabin in the woods and follow that curiosity that I'm just so, so, so grateful for that experience. Do you still think that desk jobs are soul-sucking as I go back to my cubicle? No, no.

And that was one of the problems back then is that I really wanted to like the job because I loved the people that I worked with. The job, it had all these great benefits. I was like close to the house. I wanted so badly to find meaning in that work. And certainly a lot of the people around me did without problem. It just was not the right fit. And similarly, I've known carpenters that have...

just hated being out and working with their hands and then gone to desk jobs and loved it. So yeah, I think that it's such a personal thing. In our final minute here, what advice would you give someone who really wants to follow in your footsteps, but maybe they feel tied down by work, by money, by other responsibilities? Maybe they're not in their 20s and can just sort of throw caution to the wind.

Yeah, I think, you know, one of the important facts of this book is that I kept my job for basically the entirety of the story that's in here. The six years that I worked on that cabin, I still had a full time job. And I think that that's important to me because I think that it's maybe less helpful of a story if it's, you know, seeming to people like I quit a job and escaped and ran away. And, you know, that's just not a reality for a lot of people.

It was just this sort of weekend warrior compulsion over years and years. And there were sometimes when I'd be, you know, three, four months between visits to the cabin. And so I think that the idea that you have to go all in on something and make this, you know, crazy life changes is romantic, but it's not necessary. And I think just following the things that interest you and engage you is

And trusting in your curiosities is really the best advice that I can give to people. Yeah, you mentioned curiosity several times. I think that's a good seed to leave listeners with. Thank you so much, Patrick. Thank you so much, Leslie. Thrilled to be able to talk. Patrick Hutchinson is a writer and carpenter. His book is Cabin, Off the Grid Adventures with a Clueless Craftsman. Thank you again. Have a wonderful weekend, everyone.

Funds for the production of Forum are provided by the John S. and James L. Knight Foundation, the Generosity Foundation, and the Corporation for Public Broadcasting.

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