Six years Rusty has lived with us, and I remember his first visit to the forests of Appalachia was filled with terror. The Homestead street dog had never seen deciduous trees or deer the size of elephants. The crackling of the leaves made him jump and me never strayed far from home. This visit he couldn’t edit to get out of the van and disappear into the hemlock bushes.
That reality has changed. My brother in law Bob and his wife Geeta, Layne’s sister, know I like to walk so they took Rusty and I out for a walk the day after we arrived at their woodland home.
They live on 1100 acres of Western North Carolina forest in what’s called an intentional community based on Quaker principles of governing by consensus. The life would drive me nuts but they have thrived on sharing their decisions with their neighbors in meetings over the past half century. Housing is inexpensive because you don’t own the land but there is that shared sense of responsibility that socially adept people thrive on but I would find to be a prison of indecision.
They built their own home (above) on a hilltop and we parked near the electrical outlet so we can run our space heater without depleting our battery bank. GANNET2 is consequently toasty warm and very much our own space for the days we visit.
The land is crisscrossed with trails through the woods and past peoples’ homes. I find it weird to walk into someone’s front yard unannounced but they know everyone and what is socially acceptable. This home’s owner wasn’t at home.
It’s a log house stuccoed to keep the rain out and built up its own design. Lots of Celo is reminiscent of hobbit fantasies of communal living alone in homes decayed into the landscape.
The outhouse was unoccupied and I saw a photo opportunity. Bob obliged with my camera. More comfortable than our cramped toilet in the van but decidedly not mobile.
There are largely mysterious sign posts on some of the trails. I have got lost out here in the past but do has everyone else including Lisa and Bob. They tell the story of a neighbor who took their two year old son for a walk and got caught out after dark. They spent the night huddling on the trail as the frost settled on the forest. Get home before dark is the injunction.
You don’t need to tell me twice. These woods are damp and cold and silent and at dusk the creep factor is very high. Lots of rustling in the leafy pitch black home to many and various wild animals. Rusty was in guard but he had a wild time running through his forest.
Once we got home he had a snack and passed out.
Celo is a good spot to hang out with your dog. You can hang out without a dog I suppose but where’s the fun in that?
Mount Mitchell is out there somewhere. At 6,000 feet it’s the highest point in the eastern US.
Mountain Laurels live to two hundred years of age I’m told and get some oddly twisted trunks as they age.
A log hut used as a summer camping spot by community residents:
Rusty couldn’t help himself and I encouraged him to run as far and as fast as he could.
Cows do not impress Rusty but he tip goes past in a rare burst of courage in the face of monsters.
Celo, a dog wonderland.
