TWENTY-FIVE YEARS AGO, Glen Cloud, a Vietnam vet looking for a little peace and quiet, moved to North Bend, a one-horse town about an hour east of Seattle. He wanted to live where he could survive off the land and run his life by his own rules with little interference from society at large. In that regard, North Bend was the perfect choice. Built on the logging industry (the place was practically founded by Weyerhaeuser), it's nestled right next to Mount Si in the middle of nowhere. Back then, it didn't draw many outsiders, except for the occasional tourist or hiker who stayed for a night or two in the North Bend Motel.

The logging industry went down the tubes in the 1970s, and the town, in danger of going bust, briefly considered rebuilding itself as an Alpine resort à la Leavenworth. There are still two misplaced chateau-like structures on the main street--down from the grocery store, the post office, the cafe, and the movie theater--left over from the effort. One of the chateaux currently houses a Chinese restaurant. Tourism did eventually pick up in North Bend, but that was only because I-90 came through in in the late '70s, making it easier to get there from Seattle.

Tourism wasn't all that came with I-90. As Seattle expanded and became more prosperous, Seattleites, Eastsiders, and Washington transplants started eyeing North Bend as a sort of bedroom community. In the last five years, at least two upscale housing developments and one condo complex have been built in and around North Bend, bringing hundreds of middle- to upper-class folks to the area. More developments are in the works, including a 1,000-acre lot that will feature 100 shiny new homes valued at $750,000 and up.

The influx of city people is having a dramatic impact on this sleepy outpost. Not only has the town built a fancy outlet mall, but land values are rising dramatically and farmland is disappearing. Cloud's property taxes have increased 50 percent in the last year. "They're just building an asphalt jungle up here," says Cloud in his country drawl. "The outlet mall, Nintendo, and all that... that used to be dairy, but now it's all gone." Cloud, living off disability checks and the little cash he earns selling handmade birdhouses, wonders how long he'll be able to afford to stay.

1. Cloud tries to live off the land as much as possible. In his large, wooded yard, he's got pigs, a chicken coop full of chickens, a massive garden that provides vegetables to last through the winter, a tractor, and a wood shop. There are also plenty of cats to take care of rodents, and Duke, the large dog who looks out for unwelcome visitors. "I'm pretty much a Native American," says Cloud. "I like their attitude. You don't own it; you're borrowing it. You take what you need, nothing more." Cloud and his 10-year-old son, Buzz, hunt for meat for themselves and Cloud's brother, who has multiple sclerosis and also lives on the property.

2. Rock Creek Ridge is one of the recent developments that has sprouted up around North Bend. With its view of Mt. Si, the condo complex bills itself--according to a huge wooden sign at its gated entrance--as "living amidst the environment." Rock Creek offers hundreds of new North Bend residents a host of amenities: gym, swimming pool, clubhouse, groundskeepers, and security systems. Meredith Crastenberg, Rock Creek's excessively cheerful representative, explains that "we like to think of ourselves as a breath away from Seattle."

3. Residents at Rock Creek must follow a host of rules, all designed to maintain the development's well-groomed appearance. They're restricted in the hours they can use the communal facilities, and garages can't contain excessive amounts of furniture or boxes.

4. Cloud keeps most of his pigs on his butcher's farm. "Damn, it stinks," he says, admiring his batch of potbellies. Cloud pays for the pigs' boarding in trade--he and his friends have established a bartering network. Cloud has just helped the butcher, who lives in nearby Duvall, install a set of ceiling lights; in return, the butcher will dress a deer Cloud has just shot. "I raise and hunt my own meat," says Cloud. "It's better for us. I never buy meat from the stores. It's full of chemicals and it tastes like cardboard."

5. Buzz, like many kids, has a slew of chores to do each day. He rattles off the routine: "Well, in the morning I get up and shoot crows out of the garden, but lately they haven't been coming around. I think the population is rather low right now. A lot of times, I end up feeding the pigs and the chickens. I also collect the chickens' eggs." During the summer, Buzz, who is an A student at the local school, spends a lot of time fishing and hunting with his father. The two have a secret fishing spot up in the hills.

6. "The elk that come here eat my apples, feed off my lawn, and everything else," says Cloud. "I don't bother them until the season is open. Then I figure I fed them, so one of them is legally mine."

7. In the past, Cloud has trapped for food and pelts. It's a habit the new locals don't understand. In one case where beavers had built a dam on the nearby river that was flooding an upscale homeowner's backyard, Cloud was asked to solve the problem. "Sometime later they asked me where I relocated the beavers," remembers Cloud with a chuckle. "I told them I relocated them to my shed. They just looked at me."

8. Houses like this are going up all around North Bend, towering over old, more modest neighborhoods and paving through beautiful parcels of land. Directly across the road from Cloud's property, developers are planning to build 12 expensive homes. "I don't like seein' civilization move in and run us out," says Cloud. "We've been doing so well up here on our own." Eventually, fears Cloud and his neighbors, taxes will get so high they'll have to move. "They're crowding us out, and for no good reason," says Cloud. "Where we gonna go one of these days? I mean, where we gonna go?"

9. Cloud and his friends hold a mini town meeting, where they swap Vietnam and Korean War stories and discuss veterans' benefits. "It's unbelievable," says Cloud. "They [the Department of Veterans Affairs] treat you like you're stealing money from them, and you're just trying to get what you earned." Inevitably, the conversation turns to property taxes and new North Bend residents. The group is convinced that most newcomers are "environmentalists from California."

10. The skate park in North Bend is popular among kids who have recently moved in (yes, some from California). For the most part, the kids seem bored. When asked what they enjoy doing for fun, they get perplexed and answer, "Skating!" as if they want to add "dumbass."

11. Buzz holds his good friend Kyle's BB gun--though he does have his own, and a .22 too, which he takes hunting with his dad. When we approach Buzz on this day, he is shooting into the nearby trees. "I'm shooting at birds," he explains in his shy voice, "but none of the endangered ones."

12. Bill Griffin, who has lived in North Bend for 17 years or so, resides in this trailer on a tiny plot of land between Cloud's property and the river. Griffin moved to North Bend for the same reasons Cloud did--to get away from all the fast-paced hubbub. Now he's thinking of moving to Montana. "I've lost four jobs because of the yuppies complaining about the environment," he says. Those jobs include stints as a logger, a log-truck driver, a fertilizer sprayer, and a fertilizer-truck driver. "I don't like these Californians coming up here trying to run the place," he says. "They call themselves environmentalists while sitting in glass buildings. They don't know the first thing about the environment." Griffin says he bought his land just last year for around $60,000; now it's appraised at $90,000. "How the hell can I afford the taxes on that?" he asks.

13. This truck is one of the many "projects" lying around Cloud's property. He likes to tinker, he says. But what will his new neighbors think?14. Many of those moving to rainy North Bend consider it the quintessential Northwest community: small, slow moving, quirky. It's so quaint, in fact, that downtown was recently designated a historic district--the city council plans to transform the main street into a sort of 1940s town for tourists. North Bend old-timers vehemently oppose the plan, but, whether they like it or not, the town is changing and will never again be as it once was.

These photos are part of a documentary being filmed by Mad Monkey Productions. For more information, check out www.madmonkeyproductions.com, or call Chris Daikos or David Walega at 206-417-6867.