Life Without Running Water – Part 1, by E. Homesteader

When I was in my 30s I began to practice an off-the-grid, alternative lifestyle. But the unique circumstances of 2020 tested my adage: “make the best of what life offers,” and polished my homesteading skills like nothing before. By trial, and not too much error, I’ve learned to live without running water and want to share my experiences with you. I’m now in my 60s.

Our story, or Why we Live without Running Water

In September of 2019, we sold our 42 acre, off-grid Colorado homestead where we lived for 14 years, raising various small animals, tending a large garden, and powering everything with solar and wind. After closing on the house, our plan was to travel a bit and eventually settle in the northeastern part of the United States, somewhere near a lake. After storing our household goods and two cats with my sister-in-law, we moved into a big pick-up truck with an old, comfy camper-topper and started our new life. I frequently comment on our lifestyle now as “luxury camping” and that carefree time of traveling as “dry-cabin training”.

During the first two weeks of March of 2020, we camped in a boatyard so we could help a friend work on his sailboat and planned to stay for a month or so. But those plans changed when everything else around us started to change, too. Since all our household belongings were stored in my sister-in law’s barn just a few states away, I asked my husband on March 12, 2020, “Do you want to get stuck here (in the boatyard) or on your sister’s homestead?” We chose the homestead and spent a glorious spring month in the countryside, cozy and warm, with family at our fingertips.

My sister-in-law’s barn was big enough for us to pull our camper-rig inside at night and park outside during the day. All our stuff was stored nearby in three huge horse stalls, plus, there was electricity and a handy, frost-proof water spigot. It’s all anyone needs! After one month of living in the barn, we had our ‘luxury camping’ skills honed to precision. But still, it was a barn, and the camper topper was getting smaller and smaller, day by day – no matter how many outside acres we had for space.

While still in Colorado, my husband spent many hours looking at real estate websites, searching for that “perfect” place. That’s where he found our current abode. Years ago, he showed me pictures of this tiny hunting cabin situated on 22 wooded acres close to a very large lake and a very small community. I said “that’s a cute place, but there’s no well.” Fast forward to late March of 2020, and that property was looking pretty good from the inside of a barn; especially since we couldn’t even get a hotel room, much less rent an apartment because of the “pandemic” lockdowns in our region. Despite the world being thrown topsy-turvy, we were able to look at the property, first-hand. It was lovely, even without running water. The tiny 360 sq. ft. cabin was fully furnished with electricity and there was an old, yet usable, outhouse. The 22-acre, wooded property provided complete privacy, with a short drive into the nearest town. The purchase process was quick and we closed on the deal mid-April of 2020.

After living for a few months in a camper topper, the tiny cabin seemed spacious. But it was still a tiny cabin and we needed a much bigger space to comfortably live and homestead again, so my sweet husband started clearing land in preparation to build. We had the funds from the sale of our previous house and thought it would be no problem to build a bigger structure, plus install a well and septic. We filled out all the necessary paperwork and were granted a building permit for a “two-story garage with a bathroom”. The septic/well permit was a bit more challenging, and when the results came back from the perk hole tests, we were told that to drill a well in our specific area, we’d first need a permit for an expensive, ultra-engineered septic system – which was then (and still is) way out of our budget. Fortunately, the construction permit did not depend on a well or septic permit, so once it was approved, my husband continued with the building process. What started as luxury camping became a way of life.

Nuts and Bolts – How we do it

Mindset

We live near a large freshwater lake and our area is a seasonal playground for transient tourists and ‘summer people’ who’ve owned family cottages for many years. Some families have five generations of summer history living at the lake. As such, there are many cabins with no running water and the local culture is rustic enough that the idea of living without running water isn’t that far-fetched. Even so, I have a slight stigma about not having running water (especially for so long). To bring it into a regular conversation is like telling someone you live in a cave and love it. I’m fairly content with our situation and with a few exceptions, could live like this for a long time.

I find having a flexible mindset helps alleviate adverse thoughts, making the necessary tasks less tedious. I’m grateful to have access to clean water in all its abundance, even if I need to go get it and bring it back to my abode. I take pleasure in simple movements of my body – grateful the whole time I can move, lift, and carry water. Having no running water deepens our reservoir of personal self-sufficiency, stimulates creativity for obtaining, storing, and using water, provides water conservation through awareness of water usage and its sources, and brings us closer to the divine energies of water itself. After four years, we’re so used to the process that it doesn’t strike us as strange to not have running water and the few folks who know how we live seem to admire us for it. After all, if our ancestors could do it, then I can, too.

Materials

While living in the pick-up/camper topper, our water storage and use was a very basic process. We stored a few gallons, used a few gallons, and let the graywater drain out the sink into a bucket just outside the camper. In the tiny cabin the situation was similar and because of low ceilings and practically nonexistent counter space, there were limitations as to how we could set up a gravity-fed water system. So, we continued our luxury camping patterns: storing buckets of water, using wash tubs for dishes, heating water on the stove and in an electric kettle, but with the addition of a Berkey Water Filter for our drinking water.

Here’s a short list of materials we use:

  • Containers: We use food-grade, plastic, 5-gallon buckets with tight lids for wash water collection and storage. Gallon-sized plastic jugs work for drinking water which we store in sturdy crates. A ‘non-food-grade’ 5-gallon bucket rests under the kitchen sink to catch graywater. Plastic dish tubs work best for doing dishes and sponge bathing.
  • Water ‘scoops’: These are plastic containers used to transfer water from buckets to other containers, either for washing, cooking, cleaning, or scooping snow to melt. Our fully furnished little cabin came with all kinds of things and we found a large, plastic coffee ‘tub’ works the best for us. It holds over a quart of fluid and has grips on the sides for easy handling.
  • Water heaters: The tiny cabin had a little kitchen area with a gas stove with a dedicated large cook pot with a lid for heating wash water and an electric kettle for heating drinking water on the counter. We moved the entire kitchen set-up to the newer building, where there’s also a portable, on-demand hot water heater and pump unit in the bathroom for showers.
  • Water filters: All our drinking water is filtered through a Berkey Water System. Currently, our wash water is filtered through clean cloth.

I think the key to successfully living without running water is having a good supply of assorted plastic tubs, buckets, and assorted containers. Water from one goes into another, and then out the door (or down the graywater drain). We have seven 5-gallon buckets, and two 3-gallon ones for collecting and storing wash water. Each bucket of water is set on a round Teflon cooking tray we use as a ‘saucer’ to catch any water dripping down the outside or sloshing over the rim during use. The trays make it easy to slide the buckets along kitchen area rugs and carpets, too. We keep a few buckets under a table and a couple more under the counter near the sink. The water scoop rests on the lid of the bucket being used or on the counter, sometimes it stays in the bucket. I also have a gallon jug near the sink to use as an intermediate handwasher or dish rinse if I don’t want to bend down to dip water from the bigger bucket.

Water Sources

1. Drinking water: Any potable water faucet. From May to October, we use a public, artesian well located in town. From November through April, the local laundromat provides a quick way to fill many jugs while we do our laundry. Since we always use a Berkey Water filter for our drinking water, technically, we could use rain and lake/pond water to drink, but we’re using that option as a last resort. I guess I could order drinking water from a service, but I don’t want to spend the money and like to know the source(s) of our water.

2. Wash water: rainwater first, lake water second during warmer/dryer months, and in winter, melted snow or use town faucet as last (or lazy) resort.

  • Rainwater catchment: It’s great to catch fresh water from the sky! Colorado had laws against rainwater catchment, so we never practiced it, although we were familiar with the concept. Luckily, there were gutters, downspouts and some barrels on our new property so we could set up a catchment system right away. There are other informative articles (see here: 1, 2, 3) on the topic of rainwater catchment, so please do some research before setting up and using your own system.
  • Lake water: Our lake contains an amazing amount of very fresh (and surprisingly clean) water. When the rain is scarce, we get water from various areas along the shoreline.
  • Melted snow: This process is very ‘stone age’. But if you’ve got the time, space, buckets, and determination, then it will provide a steady source of water if there’s enough clean snow to melt. Admittedly, it’s not my first choice, I’d rather take a couple of smaller buckets into town and fill them twice a week than go through the process of filling buckets with snow to melt for wash water. However, I’ve learned a lot from the experience and know it works. (more details later)

(To be concluded tomorrow, in Part 2.)