Rural Family Breaks Free From the Grid Lock

Hot baths at the McIntosh house are wood-fired and the refrigerator runs on propane. Lightbulbs, radios and the iMac computer draw power from cobalt-blue solar panels outside.

The family’s cozy home near the Vermont border is “off the grid”--unconnected to the nation’s massive electricity-distribution system.

But Bliss and Robbie McIntosh didn’t just join a new and growing movement generated by fears of huge electric bills and rolling blackouts.

They’ve been living this way for 25 years--long enough to rear two daughters unaccustomed to blow-drying their hair or watching MTV.

The McIntoshes are among a small number of Americans, most of them rural, who have relied on a mix of high-tech and age-old strategies to live without the electric company.

Cutting the utility cord might seem tempting as power prices rise, but the McIntosh family’s experience shows that energy independence comes with trade-offs. Home generation units are costly. Even flipping on a switch--a thought-free act for most people--can take on serious consequences when every watt counts.

“When you leave a room, you turn out the light,” Bliss said. “You think about use of resources all the time. There’s a consciousness.”

The McIntoshes have been energy-independent since 1976, when Bliss began building their house on a Washington County hillside owned by her family. The decision to go off the grid was easy: It was too expensive to run a line the half-mile from the road to their home.

“At first it was money,” said Robbie. “As time went on, it became an aesthetic choice--”

“--and philosophical,” said his wife, a basket weaver. “It’s nice not to be connected.”

Seven solar panels, each about the size of a beach blanket, generate the family’s electricity. The juice is stored in six batteries that look like they belong in a car.

On even the sunniest day, the panels can only produce 450 watts--enough power to run a TV and a few lightbulbs. Batteries and an inverter allow them to draw almost twice that wattage, but big appliances drain the batteries.

So the stove and refrigerator run on propane. Energy consciousness dictates the use of compact fluorescent bulbs generally rated at 9 to 13 watts. Only recently did the family get a TV, and only for videotapes.

“I used to hate it when I was little,” says 22-year-old Annika. Now, the recent college graduate says she is proud of the way her family lives. Her 17-year-old sister, Helen, also has few complaints.

Watching the wattage can become especially critical during cloudy spells in winter. Vacuuming is best done when the sun is shining to avoid drawing down precious battery power.

The home does have a phone, and e-mail too. When the family really needs to “plug in,” members can take a short walk through the woods to Robbie’s shopwhich is on the grid. The family uses a washing machine and shower there.

Their home’s heat comes from a Russian stove, which resembles a thick brick chimney in the middle of the house. The brick faces radiate heat to the house around the clock in winter. To maximize heat flow, the bedrooms have no doors.

The McIntoshes’ solar system is relatively modest--systems on the market today can handle far larger loads. But like the McIntoshes, most off-gridders are rural residents who find it cheaper to generate their own power rather than pay for a connection, said Richard Perez, publisher and editor of Home Power magazine.

Perez said off-gridders run the gamut from survivalists out in the wilds of Idaho to “tree huggers” in California. He estimates there are 180,000 small businesses and homes off the grid.

A solar system to power a typical household can run around $13,000, including batteries and an inverter.

The systems, which can last for decades, only make economic sense as a long-term investment. The average residential electric bill in the McIntoshes’ service area is about $62 a month, less than $750 a year.