Completed Cabin
Me preparing to fry some eggs in front of cabin near completion
Dousinberry Creek, a Painting of MineA Cabin on the Dousinberry
Approximately 60 years ago Jessie, (childhood friend) and I decided to construct a log cabin. It would not be n easy task of this we were certain, for many of the logs, (or poles) would have to be felled below the bluff and carried up to the site. We began in early spring, armed with a double bit axe each and the slow daunting mission began. We possessed little knowledge on how to raise such a structure, but like men before us we were determined to build the cabin. After several days of felling and cutting them to desired length the arduous journey up the bluff began. Each of us with a log balanced on one shoulder and staggering under the weight we carried them to the site. Mind you we had our chores and other farm duties and often many days would pass before we could work again on the cabin. Neither of us ever became discouraged and worked diligently for the time when the building was completed.
When at last we had enough logs cut and carried up the bluff we began preparing the spot where the cabin would stand, about ten feet from the edge of the bluff. We dug away all the soil down to bare rock and after trial and error of placing the foundation logs on the stone floor, squaring them as best we could and then we stood back, more confidant than ever we would complete the project.
The days of spring merged into summer and ever so slowly the cabin took shape and by mid summer it was near completion. Unbeknownst to my mother I snuck an old wood burning stove out of the well house and took it to the cabin. The stove had belonged to her father. (Years later it was stolen from the cabin). Jessie and I constructed bunk beds from cedar poles and a table and a chair from the same material. The door was made from scrap lumber and the roof from rusty tin roofing.
The cabin was a beautiful sight to behold, setting on the edge of the bluff and offered a spectacular view of the Dousinberry creek. It was a place of solitude where we could stay and cook an iron skillet of eggs, bacon and potatoes. It was a place where raccoons came often in the night in search of food. Other humans we learned also came to admire the building and enjoy the view.
The cabin that Jessie and I built stood for several years, long after we were grown and more or less abandoned our building. After father passed away and the farm was sold, I returned one day to find that the cabin had been bulldozed to the ground. Adios.
Approximately 60 years ago Jessie, (childhood friend) and I decided to construct a log cabin. It would not be n easy task of this we were certain, for many of the logs, (or poles) would have to be felled below the bluff and carried up to the site. We began in early spring, armed with a double bit axe each and the slow daunting mission began. We possessed little knowledge on how to raise such a structure, but like men before us we were determined to build the cabin. After several days of felling and cutting them to desired length the arduous journey up the bluff began. Each of us with a log balanced on one shoulder and staggering under the weight we carried them to the site. Mind you we had our chores and other farm duties and often many days would pass before we could work again on the cabin. Neither of us ever became discouraged and worked diligently for the time when the building was completed.
When at last we had enough logs cut and carried up the bluff we began preparing the spot where the cabin would stand, about ten feet from the edge of the bluff. We dug away all the soil down to bare rock and after trial and error of placing the foundation logs on the stone floor, squaring them as best we could and then we stood back, more confidant than ever we would complete the project.
The days of spring merged into summer and ever so slowly the cabin took shape and by mid summer it was near completion. Unbeknownst to my mother I snuck an old wood burning stove out of the well house and took it to the cabin. The stove had belonged to her father. (Years later it was stolen from the cabin). Jessie and I constructed bunk beds from cedar poles and a table and a chair from the same material. The door was made from scrap lumber and the roof from rusty tin roofing.
The cabin was a beautiful sight to behold, setting on the edge of the bluff and offered a spectacular view of the Dousinberry creek. It was a place of solitude where we could stay and cook an iron skillet of eggs, bacon and potatoes. It was a place where raccoons came often in the night in search of food. Other humans we learned also came to admire the building and enjoy the view.
The cabin that Jessie and I built stood for several years, long after we were grown and more or less abandoned our building. After father passed away and the farm was sold, I returned one day to find that the cabin had been bulldozed to the ground. Adios.
1 comment:
I remember it and saw it up close. It was very cool. Secretly I always wanted to live in it minus the spiders and the darkness that would set in at dusk.
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