Experiment
I realize it has been far too long since posting on the results of the homefree experiment, so I took some time out of my day to present to my readers a conclusive scientific report of my own personal experience with homelessness. This report details my own difficulties and study of the feasibility of the homefree lifestyle, as I call it. This took place during the month of January 2010, in which the author quit his job and moved out of his house the same day, loading up my car with vital goods and retrofitting a bicycle into a mobile camping transport. My goal was to spend a minimal amount of money, and this was partially enabled by my possession of an EBT card (“food stamps”). Without further adieu, may I present to you…
The HomeFree Experiment
A Scientific Report by K. Cheep
1. Hypothesis.
State your scientific goals clearly.
It is both possible and easy to live a money-free, job-free, house-free (and therefore rent-free) existence. Success of this lifestyle will result in increased happiness for the experimenter.
2. Experiment
2.1 Geography
The experiment is to take place in the arena of the San Francisco Bay Area, extending from Santa Cruz, California, all the way up to San Francisco, California.
2.2. Materials
One 1997 Toyota Camry with trunk-mounted bike rack
One 1978 (?) Motobeca road bike with 3 metal baskets, two foldable
A car trunk full of vital materials for any conceivable situation, including:
-backpacker’s tent with rain tarp
-sleeping bag rated to zero degrees Fahrenheit.
-1980s-era backpacker’s backpack
-Backpacker’s tent
-Dry, instantly edible bulk foods*, including nuts, raisins, trail mixes and a wide assortment of Clif Bars
-Dry inedible grains and legumes including black beans, rice and dry oats.
-Portable crucial spices (cayenne, salt, pepper) and spray-on canola oil, which doubles as bike lubricant.
-Tuberous vegetables with long shelf lives (car trunk lives in this case), including sweet potatoes, onions and garlic.
-A butane canister and a small, foldable backpacker’s stove.
-Waterproof matches
-lightweight and compact aluminum cookware (two pans and a bowl).
-utensils and knives
-Several gallons of tap water held in recycled glass bottles
-Bicycle repair tools, including spare tires, patch kit, plastic tire wrenches, spoke wrench, pliers, and other assorted tools.
-Two bicycle locks
-One bike helmet
-Large duffel full of spare clothes
-Hygiene kit including soap, toothbrush, dental floss and deodorant
-Emergency first aid kit and emergency poncho.
-small netbook running all free, open-source software.
-
*all food courtesy the Federal government
2.3 Procedure
Subject will attempt to live without rent for one month, maximizing his stay in wilderness and urban environments. Subject will try to find comfortable, dry and safe sleeping locales and to cook as much of his own food as possible. Furthermore, subject has stated as his goal to write, read and live an aesthetic’s life as much as possible.
3. Results
I was unable to spend as much time sleeping outdoors as hoped. Of the 25 days of the experiment, only 4 were outdoors. 5 were spent in an industrial studio, 5 on couches and 11 in a traditional bed.
Sleeping outside failed several times. In one instance, I walked around the campus of Stanford looking for a quiet yet safe spot to lay out my rug and sleeping bag. I found a spot about 300 feet from Sand Hill Road, in an oak forest near the Stanford Stables. Though my bag was warm, sleeping uncovered was slightly frightening being outside. I kept thinking about coyotes or parasites that might bother me in the night, and the nearby din of cars kept me awake. After an hour or two I was finally able to drift off, only to be woken at about 4 by the sound of the most horrible animal of all—the human animal. There was coughing nearby emanating from a human that hadn’t been there before. It was a repeated sound and distant, but still close enough that I could hear, faintly, the sound of the same human shuffling in the night. The fact that the sounds hadn’t been there when I went to sleep, combined with the fact that I was near enough to be heard by him, combined with the fact that if I were to pick up my things and leave I would be heard by him and he would have time enough to pinpoint me, combined with the fact that we were utterly alone in the forest with no other people around, were very nerve-wracking. I lay there in total silence for about twenty minutes listening to him cough, terrified to move, planning my next course of action. Eventually I brazenly packed up my things and left, saying nothing the whole time, praying that he would not wander towards me. He did not, fortunately, and I headed back to my friend’s studio at Stanford to sleep on the couch after getting lost on the golf course and running into an early-morning construction team.
Similar results occurred at UC Santa Cruz. The next day I went down the coast to Santa Cruz, figuring sleep might come easier there than at Stanford given the greater wilderness. I parked on campus and planned to wake up early, which would be easy since I was going to sleep at 8 pm. First I went into the thick forest up by the trailer park, scouting out if this would be a good location. Almost immediately after I entered the dark thickets I heard someone else in the distance trudging around. “Hello?” I said aloud. The rustling stopped. My assumption is that they were up to something nefarious, almost undoubtedly moving pot. There are pot growers who operate in the far reaches of campus, which I knew about before I heard this intruder.
This made me wary of sleeping in the redwoods. Additionally, the redwood forest, by virtue of having thick forest floors with many layers of brush, is eerily quiet in the night. It is hard to detect interlopers until they are upon you. I started feeling the fantods come on, and also knowing of the mountain lion, bear and rabid raccoon population convinced me to go to Plan B. So, I walked over to a pre-planned building on campus I had mapped out earlier which had low roofs and was accessible via a brick wall that went right up to roof level. With my rug and sleeping bag I hopped onto the roof of the building and found a convenient spot. The roof was designed for walking—it had a layer of gravel covering it evenly, like a driveway or clearing. The rug plus the sleeping bag was actually quite cozy. The only problem with sleeping was that the area was extremely well-lit by the numerous street lamps. Furthermore, at around midnight, a student pulled up and started unloading some sort of project. Though it was irrational, I couldn’t help but feel a paranoia that he might come up to the roof and find me. The students must know how easy it is to access the roof. Probably even campus security knew about it. I started feeling paranoid that either security or a student would patrol up there and find me. I couldn’t make this feeling dissipate, and every time a campus shuttle went by or I heard someone moving about on the sidewalk below I felt the paranoia settling in. I fell asleep eventually only to wake at 3:30, which considering I attempted sleep at 8:00 PM really wasn’t so bad. It was actually rather refreshing to be able to wake up so early. I lay there for another hour and finally packed up my bag, brushed my teeth and went back to my car.
I decided my best course of action would be to drive north to the City and stay there that night, on a friend’s couch, so I started down Highway One after picking up some (food stamp) groceries. Getting little sleep makes you very hungry. It messes with the metabolism, they say. After driving for an hour or so I pulled over at one of the cliffside beaches and pulled out my cooking stove, some pesto, eggs, tomatoes and avocado, and went over to a hidden bramble and cooked a pesto-egg breakfast. Then I fried up some sweet potatoes. It was very delicious, I still remember how gourmet my backpacker’s stove could be. After eating those, I started cruising some more; not that far from Pescadero I saw a little back road that went past a cement or timber plant. I followed the road and was led to a beautiful country valley that was almost untouched by human hands. There was a little area to pull over off of this 1.5-lane road and park by a creek at the base of this valley. Deciduous trees towered over the creek, while lining the mountain were massive redwoods. I went for a morning stroll and reveled in the life in that small valley. I saw bright red mushrooms, the color of tomatoes, springing up out of the soil. Many banana slugs—this was paradise for them. Surprisingly little bird or mammal life, though. Eventually I decided to press on and went up the coast to the city.
I stayed with a friend in Alamo Square for a couple days, then went back down to Stanford where I stayed again in my friend’s art studio. Most of the rest of the time I stayed either up in the city or at Stanford. I had some friends in town who insisted on camping, and so for a few days I was down in the mountains near Felton (Santa Cruz County) camping in the redwoods. We were almost mauled by raccoons in the night that day. It was a nice time to camp, given the lack of tourists in January.
With regards to camping, we failed several times in finding free camping. There are designated campsites in Big Basin, as with much of the other so-called “public” land down there. We considered parking on the side of the road somewhere, but were advised against this by locals. Apparently it has become much more difficult to camp without paying someone. The real problem is the automobile—if you can hide it somewhere, which you usually can’t, camping becomes much easier. Just slip into the woods unnoticed.
4. Conclusions
Camping is unfortunately very difficult as a method of sustaining a long-term existence. The reasons for this are simply that if you have any degree of things, you will need a car, and if you have a car you are limited and herded into areas where the assholes of the park service will extract money from you.
Sleeping in remote campuses can be nice provided that you are sufficiently brave. As a long-term solution, however, this requires much mobility.
I did not get a chance to attempt squatting. Indeed, I thoroughly wish to do so at some point in the near future, especially given all the foreclosed homes in this country. This is my new goal, to sustain myself while squatting, and I intend to update my blog on this subject in the future more frequently.
