Day: March 29, 2026

The truth is, I feel drained despite last night’s sleep. I’m walking through the woods at Schiffendecker Preserve, looking for whatever signs of spring I can find as March winds down. As I walk, I’m weighing my next move in negotiating for a new truck with various dealers. Nearby, the roar of traffic from the Thruway competes with the birdsong. Listening to Living Free in Tennessee – Nicole Sauce: You Are The Story You Tell Yourself. That is the truth: it is sunny, but breezy. Fire weather if not so damp.

I am just trying to process it all. This is about more than a vehicle; it’s about who I want to be as I grow older. While the truck is a major outlay, it represents hundreds of nights in the wilderness by a fire. In the context of my investments and future plans, the cost isn’t a dealbreaker. I’m not doing this to impress anyone—it’s a big, ugly work truck—I’m buying it for the recreation. If it doesn’t fit my lifestyle in a few years, I can always sell it.
I don’t want to become a “commuter.”

When my parents pass and I take over their homestead, I can buy a small probably electric car for trips from the country to work and keep the truck for farm work—hauling goats, hogs, and trash to the transfer station. My parehts neighborhood is too residential for burning much, thanks to the burn ban, but in the meantime, it would be a nice homestead before I get the off-the-grid property in a free state. And the truck remains my dream rig for seeing America—provided gas doesn’t get too expensive. I’m genuinely freaked out by the war in the Middle East, rising gas prices, and inflation, but I’m not ready to give up on traveling or the freedom of the road, even if I still mostly use my bike and the bus around town.

I’m also not giving up on my dream of an off-grid homestead in a free state when I retire. I want a solar setup I’ve built myself, no utility bills, and the freedom to shoot or burn whatever is necessary. It won’t happen today—it takes time—and it isn’t a realistic dream in a place like New York. It’s the city that pays the taxes and, ultimately, the salary that will make that dream a reality. Some might say I’m forgoing that future for a big, ugly truck now, but I know I’m not.

I listen to the roar of traffic and the breeze, searching for those signs of spring. So far, it’s mostly just winter fireflies and a few wild chives—which are delicious, with that rich flavor of garlic and onion. Today is not the future; it is only today. I have to enjoy what I have now while saving for that great tomorrow.