A Physical Beginning for A Good Spot

Dreams are weird. They transform themselves and they transform the dreamer. Mine is going through a major transformation right now.

A Good Spot has turned a corner from fantasy to physical: three acres in the Upper Peninsula, not far from Little Girl’s Point (a county park on Lake Superior), on a paved road (don’t laugh, pavement is never a given), of undeveloped land has been acquired by yours truly. When it appeared on Zillow at the beginning of July, I drove up, met an awesome real estate agent, and put in an offer that was accepted before I had made it back home to the Twin Cities. Then, before the end of July, I had wired the money and it was mine!

It took me a few days to start calling it “A Good Spot.” Descriptive phrases such as, “the three acres” and “my new property” started to sound awkward to me as I trampled through the ferns, but still I couldn’t easily bring myself to utter the words, “A Good Spot,” because I’ve been dreaming this dream for at least three years.

Flashback:

The End is Where it Begins

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January 6, 2023

This is probably going to be most difficult thing I will ever write and publish, and that is why I am starting this marvelous adventure with it — if I can express in this post a small fraction of the feelings and thoughts I would like to, then all future posts will be a cinch.

To call a physical location by that moniker seemed to have the potential of wrecking the dream. What if it doesn’t turn out the way I’ve been dreaming?

Nothing turns out the way one’s dreams it, and I’ve been telling myself from the beginning that I will listen to the land and do only that which it wants me to do.

That sounds like I’m a weirdo.

All I mean is, I don’t want to walk onto land and dictate to it what will be built on it. I don’t want to bring in heavy equipment and force the land into a shape it doesn’t want to have. I want to see where the water wants to flow, where the landscape is naturally inclined (or declined) to be used or to be left alone, and to build lightly.

When I saw this particular piece of land consisting of a few acres (my original dream was for 40 acres), it wasn’t a difficult decision to buy it. I was looking for a place to put my yurt, which I had bought back in March, and, in fact, I had bought the yurt precisely because it would force me to focus my land search which was spiraling in many directions.

Flashback:

Yurt-Building: Day Four (of Four)

Apr 23

The deadline to make a decision by noon on Sunday looms as I get to class at 9 a.m. and find out that no one else is going to put their name in the hat for the chance to buy the yurt we are building together.

When I didn’t know what I would like to do with the land first, every piece of land had nearly equal potential for becoming A Good Spot. The yurt made it easier to evaluate real estate listings.

When I walked this piece of land the first time, it felt good and exhibited the potential I was seeking. Plus we found wild strawberries growing on it and a hawk fly through the trees. All good omens.

There are at least two spots on the three acres where the yurt could find its home. The real estate agent and her husband had walked the property and scouted potential building spots already, and they are good spots in and of themselves. One is next to a couple of Hemlocks and the other is farther back but has more open sky above it, especially if the very young trees are cleared. A third spot made itself known after I came back to the land after closing: it is on the former logging trail and has a big fallen tree on it as well as a couple Hemlocks next to it, but I think I would put something up there only after I determine how far the logging trail wants to go.

A big surprise was the logging trail situation on A Good Spot. It could have two driveway entrances, because a second logging trail exists; this second logging trail hasn’t been maintained like the first one, so it’s unclear if a second driveway will be feasible. That’s what I mean by listening to the land: see if something has be forced or if emerges on its own.

I’m leaning toward the first Hemlocks spot for the yurt. It’s far enough from the paved road that one wouldn’t be disturbed by traffic — it is the road from Ironwood to Little Girl’s Point — and off the former logging trail.

The first weekend in August, which was the first weekend after closing, I went up to the UP with two goals: weed-whack and go to Range Art’s Little Girl’s Point Studio Tour. A dear and very supportive friend stayed home with my dogs and another dear and very supportive friend came with me and though she’s an urbanite who fears ticks, she kept encouraging me to do more work at A Good Spot. With friends like this, I can only succeed.

Weed-whacking is strangely satisfying. I don’t like destructive acts, but the driveway needs to be maintained. “Driveway,” according to my urban friend, is not the term she would use for it. I say, I can drive across the ditch here, therefore it’s a driveway.

One step toward creating A Good Spot is maintaining the ersatz driveway. I cut down the little saplings with shears and then cut down everything else weaker with a battery-powered weed-whacker.

A neighbor, let’s call him “H” for privacy’s sake, and his dog, Molly, a graceful and adorable, 10-year-old Aussie, walked across the road as I was putting the weed-whacker away in the back of my RAV4. Within five minutes I had crouched down and pet Molly a little on the back. H told me that the mailman has been giving Molly daily treats for years and only this year has she let him pet her. I said that Molly must be mellowing in old age.

A conversation with a UP-er (“Yooper”) is a very pleasant chess game.

H was likely never going to ask me more than one question and he would volunteer information like pawns, to see what I was interested in. His opening gambit: he said something nice about maintaining the driveway (thank you!) and asked boldly, yet in a friendly manner, what I was going to build. I said I was intending to put up a yurt but would have to build a deck for it first, and if I got the deck done before winter, it would be a miracle. I gave up a pawn or two with that revelation, but probably gained a line on a knight or rook because I could tell that a guy like H likes to make things. And he may like to be helpful. And he knows the area very well. He pointed out where other neighbors, all seemingly retired, live, pointing in various directions where only trees are visible, and sussed out that I was not intending to be here in the winter. From what he said about others, I gleaned that people seem to fall into either “yearlongers” (my term) or “one seasoners” (also my term).

Thanks to my weed-whacking efforts, the second day we arrived at A Good Spot, I could drive the car in farther, but I realized that may not be the best idea as I heard small branches crack under the tires. No good having sticks being able to attack the undercarriage.

Clearing the not-phony driveway of branches has been added to the to-do list.

But before we get to the future plans for this dream-becoming-reality, we’ll have to talk about animals. Partly because we always have to talk about animals and partly because H also talked about wild animals in the area, so that is the topic for the next post in this series.

Please, consider pledging to this substack, A Good Spot, as it would be greatly encouraging and well, simply, AWESOME. Click here to learn more about A Good Spot and its long-term goals.

I don’t care what Pangram may say, I write every word and I am a human being.