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Exactly 15 years ago this month, my wife Barbara looked me straight in the eyes and said that we need to find a cabin or farmhouse way back in the mountains. She wanted to find a old-timey place so far back in the sticks that we could only hear the sounds of birds chirping. No electricity, no plumbing, no cars, no computers, no cell phones, no nuthin’. You know, that didn’t sound half bad, so I bought into the idea.
After looking at a slew of so-called cabins right next to busy roads, Barb came into my office with a crazed & excited look on her face. “I found it,” she said. “Found what?” I asked. Then she spread out the want ad section of our Asheville newspaper right on my desk and pointed to a small ad that read: “Y2K special. Authentic log cabin on 65 wooded acres in Big Pine, North Carolina.”
“Hmmmm,” I said. “That sounds promising. But where in the heck is Big Pine?”
