Cabin Life – #36 will be out next Tuesday…
Popped up over night and disintegrated two days later.
Driftwood and Valcour Island
Great Blue Heron wading along shore
Hiking up the hill out back. Wasn’t that long ago…
Lake Champlain
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Tag Archives: backcountry
Cabin Life – #23
Life is definitely easier out here now. Most of the trees are leafing out, flowers are blooming and the woodstove has been idle for almost two weeks. And tonight I’ll be having fiddleheads sautéed with garlic.
The work season has begun, and I’ll be starting off the season on trail crew again. After a week or so of clearing 
trails, I’ll be moving out to the campground I work at. There’s some positives and negatives to this: I live at work, I don’t have the freedom that the cabin offers me, but there’s indoor plumbing and the commute is great.
But I’ve also discovered that as the weather has gotten better, I’ve become more excited to get the cabin ready for next winter. The outhouse has already been moved, but I have more plans in store. Build a shed for the generator and get a solar panel and battery for electricity next year. The solar panel won’t provide a ton of electricity, but it should be enough so that I don’t have to have to walk around in a headlamp for five months of the year. And honestly, I won’t run the generator unless I have to use some power tools or something like that.
I’m also looking forward to some of the conveniences that I’ll have at the campground. After months of considering what it is that I miss most, being able to take a hot shower at home whenever I want is the biggest thing. It’s not that I haven’t been bathing, but the shower at the gym sucked, and my friend’s showers were always open to me, but it still meant driving somewhere. I can’t wait to come home after a long day of work and take a shower.
It’s definitely a time of transition, but one thing has become clear to me. After bouncing around apartments during college, and living inJacksonville, and living in a house where a double homicide was committed, I have some peace. It’s less than four hundred square feet and a lot of people wouldn’t even stay here for a night, but I call it home.
Cabin Life – #21
There’s a soft, wet blanket of snow covering everything. It’s also eerily quiet. 
The last two mornings I’ve been woken up by a yellow-bellied sapsucker banging on the metal roof of the wood shed. And the morning before that, Pico woke me up barking at the turkeys that were walking by. Today, the birds are silent.
The rabbits that are all over out here are brown on top and white on the bottom. It’s an interesting site as they sprint down the road in view of my headlights, then dart off into the woods. All winter, I saw lots of rabbit tracks, but no actual animals. Now that there is no snow and they are that awkward combination of colors, I see them all the time. Their winter camouflage obviously works well.
The two robins that have been hanging around are constantly scanning the ground for worms, and the ruffed grouse run that weird little scramble of theirs whenever we get close. I think most of the birds that are around, and there are quite a few, realize that we are more a source of food than a threat though.
The chickadees and robins don’t take off when Pico and I are out, and the yellow-bellied sapsucker let me take a picture from about ten feet away. (For those of you who don’t know, the sapsucker is a type of woodpecker. When I took his picture, he was banging his head on a metal pipe, so maybe he’s not tame so much as brain damaged.) The American woodcock didn’t even bat an eye when I rode by on the four wheeler. And the eastern phoebe that picks up all the seed that the chickadees drop looks akin to a gray-colored robin with no legs. It’s like a baseball with a beak.
Maybe it’s just that no one lived here for a long time, so the animals are used to not being in any danger when they walk around, but I like when they come into the yard, or I see them out in the big field. And since I don’t feel like hunting, they don’t have to worry about being bothered for a long time yet.
The Buds are Coming Out
Birch Buds
Daffodils
The Big Field
Cabin Life – #19
I found an old set of horseshoes in the lower field the other day. It has been a nice addition to recreational life out here at the cabin. I had some 
friends over to play, and according to Adirondack rules, each participant had a beer in one hand. No setting it down to throw, no cheating with non-alcoholic “beer.” And of course, upgrading to whiskey or tequila gets a nod of approval from the fellow participants.
Even though I am very secluded out here, I’ve found so many pieces of evidence of the continued presence of humans that it’s hard not to think about how others have lived on this particular piece of land. I only found the horseshoes because one of the stakes had a faded orange flag on it. When I went to investigate, I found the shoes, and it took a little while to find the other stake because the field is overgrown.
On the way up the driveway on the left, in the woods, there is an old bus and some other assorted rusty pieces of metal, no doubt left over from an old camp. It reminds me of my childhood. Relatives of mine had a hunting camp in Wells, and there was an old school bus out there. When I was young, I convinced myself that there must be a ghost in that old bus. That was enough to make me stay away, which is good, mainly because I’m sure that there were skunks or porcupines living in there. I don’t think there are ghosts out here, even though my radio does occasionally turn on by itself.
There is what appears to be an actual hitching post right outside my door. No doubt prior owners had horses. Based on the condition of the crumbling old stable near upper camp, it seems likely that the horses were used for work, and not for transportation. The rock walls that criss-cross the property are huge, often thousands of feet long and several feet high. It speaks to the amount of time that people were out here trying to work this land. These walls were not done in just a season or two, but were labored over what had to be generations. The rock walls are a great navigation tool, since if I get lost, I can just follow a wall back towards the cabin and I will eventually hit either the driveway or the big field.
There are piles of rusty metal randomly scattered about. I’ve found two old hand-dug, rock-lined wells, along with the old plow out front and some farming implements out back. Nothing about this place leads me to believe that I am the first one to live out here “off the grid.” But back when the others were doing it, that was just the way life was. No other options, no going to a friend’s house for a hot shower or TV. And as far as I know, no writing about this life either.
There is a part of me that really likes history and research, and I’d love to dig into the past of this property. But I don’t think I will. Something about the mystery of forgotten lives and being able to imagine how hard those people had to work makes me think that I’ll leave the story unknown.
Snow, rain, sunshine, hail…
The weather has been a little up and down lately. There was about four inches of snow on the ground for the last few days, and then yesterday it melted, only to be replaced by a half-inch of hail. The flowers don’t know what the hell is going on….
Cabin Life – #18
The afternoon sunlight slants against the birdfeeders, giving them a golden glow. It’s hard to believe that it’s almost seven at night, when it was not that long ago that the sun was going down at about four-thirty.
During the really dark parts of the winter, it was hard not to go to sleep at six PM. With only candles and oil lamps, night was difficult to fight off, and 
more often than not, I fell asleep on the couch with a book on my chest and my headlamp still on.
Now that it’s light so late in the afternoon, I am actually having a hard time filling the days. Not that I’m just sitting around doing nothing, but I feel like I should be working until six or seven.
It is nice to take a break and realize that it’s dinner time, though. The wood I cut over the winter is drying nicely, the deer have been coming back to the yard, and luckily there hasn’t been any sign of bears. The chickadees have been using the feeders less and less, but the squirrels are still hitting them pretty regularly.
My focus has definitely shifted from cold weather preparation and existence to outdoor projects. The compost bin is complete, and so is a small cold-frame I put together from scrap around the property. The leaky porch roof now has a rather large hole in it (my fault) and is in dire need of repair, so that’s the next big project.
I’ll probably have to move a generator from Amy’s house up to the cabin to charge batteries and run a saw for the roof project. It’s weird to think that other than charging my phone in the car, this will be the first time that I’ll have electricity at the cabin. October to April with no power at the house seems like a long time. But it went by pretty quickly. I did go through a lot of 9-volt batteries powering the clock radio. I also burned about three shoe-boxes worth of candles, as well as a gallon or so of lamp oil.
I’ve burned about four cords of wood, but the stove won’t needed much longer. The two and a half gallons of gas I bought for the chainsaw is just about gone, and I finally added a gallon of gas to the four wheeler. I really wish that the four wheeler would start in the cold, but now that it is running, I’ve been having a lot of fun just driving it around. Unfortunately, Pico can’t come along on these rides, because he’s continually trying to bite the tires, and that’s no good.
The bugs are out, but nothing is biting yet. A friend of mine saw some mosquitoes, but he said “they were too stupid to bite me.” Let’s hope they stay that dumb all summer.
Snow Last Night
We got a dusting of snow last night. First time in a couple of weeks that there has been snow on the ground… Kind of nice to hear that little crunch under my boots again.
Laying in the sun yesterday
Ed. That's it, just Ed.
Herbie coming down off the roof
Cabin Life – #17
The yellow-bellied sapsucker. My all time favorite name for an animal. I’ve seen two of them in the last week. This March was definitely a weird one as 
far as weather goes. Record breaking high temperatures led to several shirtless days outside and a sun burn on my back.
It was about this time last year that I left Jacksonville and headed back up here. The year didn’t turn out any where near what I had planned, but that’s alright. Now, I am completely absorbed with the amount of birds that have been popping up around here. I saw two grouse walk through the yard a little while ago, and there were a bunch of robins that passed through a few days ago. I’ve even seen a few geese flying by along with a bunch of others that I can’t identify.
This year’s lunge into spring was so sudden that it felt as if we had just skipped a few months and were in the middle of summer. But that would have meant missing the spring, and even though it’s usually more of a mud season than anything else, I love the abundance of growth and warmth after winter.
I went canoeing last week, the first time I was ever able to do that on my birthday. The sun was warm and the water was freezing, and my buddy and I managed to stay out on the water for a while. We didn’t go anywhere, mainly because we had no where to go, but it was a great way to end the winter. I always love snow until the first day of spring, and then I want it gone, and this year, that was pretty much what happened.
And now the birds and animals are coming out, there are small buds and flowers on the trees, and the little stream that runs through here is flowing. The air smells different, and not just because it’s no longer stained with the exhaust of the woodstove. It’s lighter later in the day, and the candles and lanterns have not been in use much.
Yup, spring is one of my favorite seasons, along with the rest of them.
Cabin Life – #15
Pico and I went snow shoeing for probably the last time today. I wanted to get out before all the snow is gone, and I think there’ll be enough left to ski on tomorrow. But the snow is going fast, almost as fast as it came.
In the last two weeks, I’ve gotten about two feet of snow out at the cabin.
Black Capped Chickadee
The plow guy had to come three times in four days, after having been out here only three times in the last three months. But now it’s about fifty degrees, and the forecast calls for warm for the rest of the week. It’s starting to look like winter might really be over.
I missed this part of the Adirondack spring last year, as I was still living in Florida. I missed opening the windows and letting that clean-smelling breeze roll through the house. I missed seeing people’s super white arms emerging from t-shirts for the first time in months. I just plain missed the change in the seasons.
Jacksonville, FL is far enough north that there is kind of a “winter,” where it does get cold for a couple of months. The palm trees stay green and you might need a hat and gloves in the morning, but that’s about all you get out of the change of seasons. There’s really only two seasons: Hot, and not as hot.
The lady bugs have been proliferating around and on the big window. I keep catching glimpses of them out of the corner of my eye, and thinking that someone is coming up the driveway, but that’s not really all that likely. Now that it’s warm, the snow is melting, and there are brown patches of dead grass peeking out, I can’t help but feel some sort of satisfaction. Back in October, I thought that living off the grid for the winter would be a huge challenge.
It has been. But not one that has broken or defeated me. If anything, I am stronger, both mentally and physically, than when I moved out here. This winter was an experiment in self-reliance. Not that I haven’t gotten help along the way, but being way out here is something that you have to experience to truly understand.
And really, isn’t life all about the experience?