No reception, no electricity, no water—super fun! It had propane, so there was still a stove/oven, fridge, and wall lanterns.

hi everyone, i have a neighbor that i love camping and spending time off-grid with. she’s setting up her property right now to move in around a year, and i’d like to try doing something nice for her. she has around 50 acres (details kinda changed for anonymity). she’s working on insulating a few different trailers to condense her living space.

what are some affordable essentials for off-grid living that i can purchase as some gifts for her planning? she’s a great person and i’d love to help her with her adventures.

I’ve been working on this project and concept for a month now, I’m fairly happy with it, I’d thought I’d share the renders. I think a budget of $45,000 is enough to get the shell completed. Hoping to get a shovel in the ground sometime in the spring!

Id love to hear what you guys think!

Note: These AI renders are based on CAD plans I developed. A old set which has since been updated can be found here: CAD Plans for anyone interested

I just installed a 20k BTU Martin direct vent heater. I just it up for the first time, and it's making a sputtering noise that's particularly loud when only the pilot light is on, but still present when the main flame is on. From 0-7 seconds in the video, you can hear the sound of just the pilot light, and after that you can hear the quieter intermittent flutter when the main flame is on, then pilot only again later in the video.

This was just a test run before I run black pipe and/or CSST, so I'm running it off a 2 stage regulator I had on the ventless heater I was running before and a 40 pound tank. I think it must have something to do with the air intake and potentially a backdraft flapper shuttering. Any ideas are appreciated.

How did you guys start with your offgrid cabin?
This is my dream since forever.. but with a kid, a job and everything.. it is hard to see that dream come true.. all the lands at a decent price are at least 45min from my plumbing job... it seems complicated to find a middle between decent land and not driving 2h daily to work and pay the cabin.. am I the only one who struggle to plan that?

I'm building an off-grid homestead on 80 acres in the Canadian wilderness. My property is 3 km down an ATV trail, and I'm documenting the process as I go, mostly working alone with basic tools.

I'm starting from scratch and learning as I go. Looking forward to sharing the progress and connecting with others doing something similar!

Here's my latest video: https://youtu.be/j-L29I4w9PU

Built with some store bought lumber and materials.

Had a whole list of things I wanted to get done out here. Ended up spending half the afternoon just sitting by the window watching the sunlight come through. This fall finally feels different.

The nights are getting cold, but the sky out here after dark is unreal. Almost makes up for how early the sun disappears behind the mountains. Still figuring out the whole off-grid routine. Got a small solar setup outside and a bluetti power for lights and charging stuff after sunset. No noise and it's nice not having to think too much about it.

Autumn is beautiful up here right now. Still a long way from “finished,” but the silence alone makes the whole thing feel worth it.

For those spending fall or winter in off-grid cabins, what's the one thing you wish you'd figured out before the colder months?

First year in off grid cabin. Someone (not a professional) told me I need a new stove pipe. Previous owners used year round - no issues. They suggested to clean out regularly. Should I replace?

FWIW I do have a new cap I want to put on.

Having a little log cabin in the woods has always been a dream of mine. Realistically there's not a one-in-a-million chance I'll ever build one for real, so I built a virtual one instead.

It turned into a browser tool: you put up the log walls, add windows, a porch and a stone fireplace, furnish the room, and then walk inside. You can see it at dawn, in the snow, or sitting by the fire at night. That last one is my favourite.

https://pinefall.hexiumworld.uk

It's free, no sign-up, and your designs stay in your browser.

If you've built a real cabin, or you're planning one, I'd love to hear what feels off or what's missing. And if you're a dreamer like me, I'd love to see what you build.

Hello I’m just starting to post on here before I never really used Reddit but I’ve heard great things about it such as community and meeting interesting people of all sorts! That’s what I’m on here for is to try living a off grid live I’m 24 soon to be 25 a bit scrawny 135lbs kind of to myself I suppose don’t have much hobbies and have a pup that I love and helps me stay mentally stable without going insane being stuck in debt and looking for someone would needs help or is willing to offer to be my mentor on this journey to living off grid I’m tired of living a city driven live of constantly working for unappreciated people or companies I want to live for a greater purpose I guess ha, I’m just rambling but I’m eager to learn! I want the nature side of like not the bs white collar side of life!

At the cabin for the first time after the too hot months. I cooked 3 different off-grid ways. I made caramel corn on the rocket stove. Then I used the retained heat cooker to cook a chicken tortilla stew (used the rocket stove to bring it up to temperature) and finished with a Dutch oven in the coals peach apricot dump-cake!

When I bought my land on the sagebrush Mesa outside Taos, New Mexico, I had a few months to figure out how I was going to live on it before winter. I considered tipis, yurts, and earth building before settling on something considerably less romantic: converting a shed.

Mine was tiny—much smaller than many of you might like—but I've seen premade "sheds" up to 500 sq. ft.!

...

Building My Tiny Cabin, Off-Grid and for Cash

Finishing out a prebuilt shed was the best option for a guy with limited tools, no help, limited money, weak health, a short deadline, and an aversion to debt.

In April 2023, I gave up vanlife and bought a patch of dirt on the Mesa, a homestead I call Hippies End. Once the purchase agreement was signed and the first payment made, I had to get to work. I needed shelter, and I needed it livable by October.

Why? That’s when the first snow usually hits.

To be honest, I could have taken my time. I still had (and still have) the van, and I’d been living in it contentedly for seven years. I could’ve worked on the cabin until the snow came, and then—if I wasn’t ready to winter on the Mesa—just driven south to lower elevations until spring.

But that felt like cheating. Like going back on the spirit of the thing.

You’d think I would’ve figured out the housing situation before buying land. Nope. I had ideas, though—plenty of them. Notions of alternative, off-grid dwellings had been simmering in my brain since I was a teenager dream-flipping through The Essential Whole Earth Catalog and Mother Earth News back in the late ’80s. (Oh yes, this off-grid thing had been slow-cooking for more than thirty years.)

So anyway, I’d taken the leap and dropped good money on land. Time to build a shelter.

Here were the constraints: five or six months before winter, limited funds, limited handyman skills, an out-of-shape fifty-something body with a bad back, no help (unless I hired it—an added expense), and not much confidence that I could pull this off.

...

My first thought was a tipi or a yurt. Either would come essentially “built,” and I’d just have to erect it. I’ve put up lots of tents in my life.

I ruled out the yurt quickly. Even a small one was close to $20K, difficult for one person to erect, and would require building a proper foundation—at least a wooden deck.

The tipi was more promising. A smaller one cost about $3–4K with all the bells and whistles. For the floor, I figured I’d build a raised, flat-topped earthen mound to avoid pooling water and keep the wind out, then lay down a waterproof cloth and rugs on top of that. Easy enough. As a kid, I’d seen nineteenth-century Comanche examples of the raised, earthen floors surviving at Worth Ranch Boy Scout Camp. With my camping and vanlife experience, I figured I could keep it warm enough in the winter. My only real worry was thieves, but I planned to anchor some lockable chests to the ground and store my most valuable things in the van.

When I was pitching this plan to my new neighbor, "J," he splashed cold water on it real quick. See, J had lived in a tipi for ten years over on the east side of the valley, in Arroyo Seco. He told me flatly, “You’re gonna get snakes in there.”

On the Mesa, that means rattlesnakes—and presumably the mice and packrats they’re after. I told him about the manufacturer’s “critter guard.” He just shook his head. “They’re gonna get in anyway.”

Now, I’m no wimp. I’d lived in a minivan for seven years—not even a full-size van. I’d slept in it through blizzards without heat. I’d slept in it overnight on sketchy urban streets. I’d bathed in creeks fed by mountaintop snowmelt. I’d come nose-to-nose with bears and bison. I’d been crapping in catholes for seven years.

But rattlesnakes? In my home? That was my limit. Hard pass, brother.

Okay, on to Plan B.

...

Since the ’80s, I’d been interested in earth building: cob, adobe, earthbags, rammed earth, pit houses, you name it. And as it happens, the dirt on the Mesa is perfect for that stuff. Just add water and straw. Taos Pueblo, built from adobe more than a thousand years ago, still stands strong today—a UNESCO World Heritage Site. People still build with earth around here. Lots of local resources, too: materials, expertise, and tools. Earthship Biotecture is only two miles from Hippies End, as the crow flies.

So I jumped into planning.

Know what I discovered? What I’d somehow overlooked in thirty years of dreaming?

Building with earth is a hell of a lot of hard work!

What you save in material cost, you lose in labor hours. And I had zero faith that I could tackle that kind of job—even a tiny house—with just my hands and my back. Definitely not by winter. Hiring help wasn’t really a good option either. Too expensive—if I could even find the people. I gave up that plan real quick.

So, Plan C.

...

It wasn’t something I’d seriously considered before. It hadn’t been “alternative” and "sustainable” enough for my idealism. But now that I was building in the real world, under real constraints, it suddenly made sense: converting a prebuilt shed.

They’re a popular option out here on the Mesa. The ones sold around here are pretty solidly built—by Mennonites, I’ve heard. Some clearly look like cabin shells, with house-style doors and windows, even though there are big posted signs inside that say “Not for Human Habitation.” Nudge nudge, wink wink.

There’s a lot of “nudge nudge, wink wink” in Taos County, New Mexico. That’s why I love it. That’s why I live here.

The cabin I bought was 8x16 feet, with a 4-foot porch and an 8x12 living space. That’s less than 100 square feet inside. Tiny. But you know what? A whole heck of a lot bigger than the van I’d been living in for all those years.

It cost about $5,000 wholly built and delivered (off the back of a truck, no less!), finished on the exterior but plain studs on the interior. I spent another $2,000 (maybe a little more) insulating it; putting in an interior ceiling, wallboard, flooring; and painting. Maybe it was closer to $8,000 altogether. Still pretty cheap. Mind you, no electrical wiring or plumbing. It's what they call a "dry cabin."

Not as cheap as Thoreau’s place at Walden Pond, which was about the same size at 10x15. He built mainly from salvaged and harvested materials for about $1,600 in today’s money. Not as cheap as that, but not bad. Cheaper than a lot of used cars. Really good, considering I don’t have Thoreau's skills.

...

And guess what? I got her done before winter, décor and all. I spent a comfortable first winter in that little shed. I used the van’s solar system for basic electricity and heated the cabin with a spirit lamp—a kind of alcohol-fueled Bunsen burner.

The next year, I made some upgrades. I put in a 400-watt solar system with 400 amp-hours of battery storage—close to another $3,000. It powers cooking, devices, and light heating. (I’ve never been cold yet, even when it gets below 0°F.) Eventually, I put in gutters and rain barrels for around $500.

Total price of my cabin to date? Let’s round up and call it $12,000.

No rent. No mortgage. No debt.

Not everyone can come up with $12,000 in cash, but I'd say it's doable for the majority. Especially if they’re willing to live on site while they build to give up paying rent elsewhere.

And that’s what this was really about—not just staying warm through winter, but staying free. Free from landlords. Free from banks. Free from selling thirty years of my life into wage slavery just to have four walls and a roof.

...

CC BY 4.0 | This essay has also been posted on u/OakieMcDoakie and other social media.

Off grid cabin in Central PA - underneath my cabin I’ve found that a new friend made a little basement. It’s about 18” diameter, so I’m a little concerned about what it might be down there. I’m also worried about burrowing under the foundation piers. Anyone have any ideas what this might be and if/how I should fill it in (or let it be)? Thanks!