March 1982
"I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not when I came to die, discover that I had not lived." Thus Thoreau succinctly explained his sojourn at Walden's Pond. Americans have always romanticized their history, times when men challenged life and their very existence with basic survival skills - all related to living close to the earth and in harmony with nature. Iowa Hill is just one example of a time capsule with many doors. Depending on your finances and/or the degree of modern comfort you want, you may step back in time to the middle 1800's or just 20 or 30 years ago. Beneath all the various reasons for living in the Iowa Hill country lies an appreciation for the history of the area and an adventurous pursuit of times past.
There are many off-setting factors that living in the "boonies" entails. Electricity without running a generator is unavailable, but there are no double-rate PG&E bills either. It's a one hour drive to town for business and groceries, but door-to-door salesmen don't knock on the door. Our roads are passable at best, but the delightful quiet is not marred by traffic noises.
The absence of conventional niceties, considered to be necessary by many, is not a predominant reason for choosing to live here - it is just the price that these folks pay to do so. Although, to some, it serves to challenge one's ingenuity by devising ways to circumvent the absence of modern utilities.
Some of the traits that I have observed in the residents in this country may serve to partially answer the question, why? Independence or self-sufficiency is one of the trademarks up here. A person who chooses to turn their back on the regulated, comfortable lifestyle and to confront their own challenges of providing creature comfort and living on less is a person who owns their life instead of their comforts and conveniences owning them. Linked with independence is an isolationism - an absence of fear of being alone. However, the aloneness leads to animated conversation at the occasional dinner party as folks vent their pent-up vocabularies. There are no status seekers in these hills, most people being very accepting. Mode of dress, year of car or choice of lifestyle makes no difference. Both monied and poor relate on equal terms.
One last note and as promised, the story of Dempsey. A majority of Iowa Hillians are perhaps typified by Lori Baker, a young woman whose childhood memories serve as part of her reasons for living up here. Dempsey was a mule, a sort of town pet-nuisance, depending on which direction you were taking - to or from the store for candy. Duly appointed as Iowa Hill's honorary mayor and being a connoisseur of candy, he would waylay Lori and her sister as they returned from the store. Threatened with the candy pirate's teeth, they raced for home, the mayor hot on their heels. Lori has many such fond memories of her childhood in Iowa Hill and as a result, introduced her husband, Roy, and daughter Rachel to life in the slow lane up here.
From a Mormon hymnal dated 1862:
I heard of gold at Sutter's mill
At Michigan Bluff and Iowa Hill
But never thought it was rich until,
I started off to prospect.
At Yankee Jim's I bought a purse,
Inquired for Iowa Hill, of course,
And traveled on, but what was worse,
Fetched up in Shirt-tail Canyon.
At Iowa Hill they buried me,
In the Catholic cemetery,
Underneath an old pine tree,
Now I no longer prospect.
Yet from below the gravestone cold,
I think about the days of old,
Still yearning for the days of gold,
When I went off to prospect.
Next week I'll tell you about the aerodynamics of an oak leaf or how to slow down and smell the roses. Remember, we are human BEINGS not human DOINGS.
