Land of the Lost
by Rob Los Ricos

Out in the woods, off the country road - There!  Where the out-of-place welcoming sign stands beside the parked vehicles.  Between the greenhouse and the garden beds, there winds the trail - a trail to adventures of the imagination, a trail into the possibilities of the moment.  Go that way, up the hill and through the Douglas firs.  You have found the Land of the Lost, a place for wanderers, students of rebellion, self-exiled romantics determined to make their lives their own!

The first clue for what is to come is the outdoor brewery. What can be learned about a place with no indoor plumbing, or any indoor whatever, when the first primitive pole-and-plywood structure one finds is the 40-gallon brewery?

Continue up the hill, across the stream and on to the kitchen, the gathering area where meals are shared.  Notice the outdoor library.  The titles are mostly in five categories:  food preparation, gardening (permaculture), brewing, rebellion and fictional works of mayhem, wonder and dread.

Of course you are welcomed to stay, to linger by the creek with your books and journals, to dig in the earth, to play and create music, to drink and share stories around the fires and lanterns.  You learn of mutual friends, not only around the area, but around the globe.  You combat the mosquitoes and hide from the rain and cold.  Each day begins with the anticipation of something wonderful coming, while the view of the surrounding mountain distracts your attention from whatever it was you had in mind, until you want just to be there, overwhelmed with scents and sights and sounds.

It's a leisure-filled life of unmotivated afternoons and pleasant evenings.  The days melt away until the world of clocks and schedules seems but a distant, disturbing memory.  Yet, the time finally does get your attention.  You were just passing through and have stayed longer than you had planned.  There were destinations, goals, meetings to make:  time demands that you depart.  You leave, wondering why your life can't always be like this, what makes the compelling reasons for leaving so damned compelling?
As the answer comes to you while traveling the twisting road out of the valley, you have one of two reactions:  you vow to return for a longer stay, to learn to live this way so that one day you, too, will have your breakaway station from the oppressive world of consumption and domination.  Or you speed away with the greatest haste, fleeing the seductive world you've found before it's too late to turn away.

RlR