Welp, I finally got one of those fancy phones with a camera and the ability to connect to the internet. So if you’re interested in seeing lots of pictures of chickens and hiking trails, follow me on Instagram at @JALEVINE6
Oh, and if you follow me, I will follow you back!
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The sun is shining later and later each day, and some of the snow is melting 
and dripping off of the roof in front of the big window. It’s officially been spring for almost a week now, but don’t bother telling Mother Nature that. The forecasted thirteen degrees below zero tonight isn’t as bad as the negative twenty-three we got a couple of nights ago, so I guess, in a way we are getting more spring-like temperatures. But again, temperatures in the negative teens aren’t that spring-like to me.
I’ve been back at the cabin full time, and having a few weeks off from living out here was definitely nice. After three winters having to haul in water and use an outhouse no matter the temperature, the shine of living off grid has worn off. I still enjoy many, many aspects of it, but this winter has definitely been a mood killer for me. I was able to tap a few of the maple trees the other day and start collecting sap, but it’s been slow going with the cold returning. And the hike up the driveway isn’t any easier than it was in February.
But while the winter goes on, I cling to the knowledge that spring is indeed near. I certainly don’t feel alone in my antipathy towards winter at this point, but there are still some advantages to having this much snow on the ground.
Last night I was driving home just after dark and spotted a flash of white on the side of the road up ahead. Yes, I know that everything is covered in snow that there are “flashes of white” literally everywhere, but this small patch was moving quickly. My initial thought was that it was deer hopping the snow bank to head into the woods. But with the more than two feet of snow on the ground at my cabin, deer tracks are something I haven’t seen in quite a few months.
I instinctively tapped the breaks and looked for another deer. Usually when there’s one, there’s more, and hitting a deer and wrecking my car at this point would probably make me throw up my hands and move back to Florida. I looked up and saw a spread of wings in front of me, and realized that it wasn’t a deer but the tail end of a rather large owl taking off that I had caught a glimpse of.
The owl wasn’t very far in front of me, but I never got a good look at it because it was flying directly away from me. It had a wingspan of a couple of feet and was certainly impressive in size, but what species it was I couldn’t say.
I wondered why the owl had been on the snow bank so I stopped to have a look. I had obviously interrupted a kill in progress, and after snapping a few photos, I moved on. I didn’t want to keep the owl from his fresh meal. Plus, after this rough winter, I kind of feel like all of us up here are in it together. Even the animals.
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I’d like to tell you that it’s been a long couple of weeks out at the cabin. That, 
however, would not be the truth. The truth is, it’s been a couple of very lazy weeks lounging around in the comfort of an actual house. The weather has been terrible and I was having to hike into the cabin and my firewood is running low and I was sick of dragging a forty pound jug of water a quarter mile uphill twice a week. So I’ve been staying at my girlfriends with Pico and Herbie. And the Levine men have officially taken over the couch.
I’m still formally living at the cabin, but it has been a nice break. After three winters, I needed some time away from the work and cold and frustration of a house with no indoor plumbing. The chickens are still out there, and are doing well. As the days get longer, the nights haven’t been as cold, and they are doing fine. I go out to the cabin pretty much every day, so even though I was still having to do the hike in, at least I wasn’t having to haul my laundry and bags of dog food and cat litter up that hill.
But speaking of hills, a friend invited me to climb a couple of High Peaks this past weekend. I needed to get out of the house and just said yes when he texted me. I didn’t realize that it was going to be a twenty four mile ski/snowshoe/hike. But we headed out at about six am on Saturday to climb Cliff and Redfield mountains. Twelve hours and forty-five minutes later, we struggled out of the woods and back to my car.
I drove to my girlfriend’s and stumbled in the door. I literally could not move a muscle without moaning in pain, but I made it through the night without dying. The next morning, as I painfully and stiffly made my way across the living room, she convinced me that best way to beat the soreness was to go for a walk or hike. Now, keep in mind, she was not volunteering to go with me, just basically telling me to get out. I think my moaning may have been worse than I thought.
I decided to head out to the cabin to feed the chickens and make sure they still had water, and very gingerly hopped in my car. It’s about a twenty minute ride to the cabin, and every second of the way I was annoyed about the upcoming hike up the driveway. I could barely walk on the flat, warm floor of the house, how was I possibly going to make it up the driveway.
As I got nearer to the cabin, I noticed that my neighbors were at their camp down the road. I figured I’d take care of the girls and then head over to say high. But as I neared the end of the road by my driveway, I was taken by the most magical sight I could behold at that moment: My driveway was plowed.
I cracked a huge grin and smiled the whole way up the driveway. I knew that my neighbor had come down and plowed with his tractor, and I was so happy I actually whooped with joy. The thought of having a clear driveway again after two months was too much to handle. I hugged the chickens and rubbed Pico’s belly until he got sick of it and ran down the driveway.
I took care of everything at the cabin and went down the road to say thanks to the neighbors. I gave him a hug and promised to drop off a few gallons of diesel fuel in payment. This one kind act changed my whole outlook on the last month or so of the winter. It seemed as if so many problems had been solved by this one incredibly kind gesture. My mood was lifted and my spirit sunny. The neighbor s told me they were happy to help, but that they wouldn’t be back for a few weeks.
All of those warm feelings stayed with me until I got back and checked the weather forecast. Twenty inches of snow predicted. It’s amazing how fast the wind got sucked out of my sails. Not that it’s all bad. I know that the snow is here for a limited time, but it was so nice driving into the cabin a couple of times. I can’t thank my neighbors enough for plowing, even if the openness only last for a few days.
I purchase the Osprey Talon 33 backpack two months ago. I have used it in a variety of conditions and am pleased by its performance.
I bought the pack to use on search and rescue missions for Search and Rescue of the Northern Adirondacks, however I used it on several hikes and 
cross-country ski trips before being called out on my first search. I use the NASAR pack contents as a guide for what I should carry. I added some more stuff than they recommend, but also eliminated a few things. I see no need to carry a tracking stick when I have no idea how to use it effectively, but a folding saw can come in handy when you’re in a thick alder swamp with only a couple of feet of visibility.
The pack had some extra room in it even with all the stuff I carry. I use a couple of water bottles instead of a bladder, so with a bladder there would be enough room in this pack for a summer overnight. While out skiing with the pack the first time, I was satisfied with the way the hip belt carries the load. I did not have to deal with the pack shifting a lot, even over several layers of clothes.
I found that the small mesh pockets on each shoulder strap are very convenient for holding an energy packet or something else small. I didn’t
want to put a knife in there as the pockets are open at the top, but securely stored my multi-tool in the zippered pocket on the hip belt. It’s easy to get to and in no danger of falling out. I stash a compass in the other hip belt pocket, but they are large enough for a small digital camera as well.
My favorite design feature of the Talon 33 is the number of pockets, with very little on the outside of the pack to get hung up on brush. After two days searching through alder swamps, off-trail through old growth and across rock ledges, the pack never got hung up once on any brush or rocks. I was able to move through the brush easier because of the streamlined design of the pack.
However, there are actually nine pockets in addition to the main compartment and the beaver tail. Two water bottle pockets on either side, one on each shoulder strap and hip belt, two on top of the hood, and a zippered mesh pocket on the inside of the hood. Small things are very easy to access while still being secure.
I put my personal identification, keys, and phone in a baggie and put them in 
the zippered mesh pocket. I kept a notebook and maps in the top pocket, rain cover on the side, and crampons and gaiters in the beavertail. I had no issue with a lack of storage with this pack.
The downsides are few in my opinion. The shoulder straps are comfortable, light, and airy, but a little flimsy. I can’t help but look at the padding through the mesh and wonder when it will start to rip. The back also isn’t quite stiff enough. I always carry a small foam pad to sit on, and it helped stiffen up the back a little bit. The location of the water bladder is in the usual spot against your back, so using a bladder will probably cause the typical back bulge and make it less comfortable.
All in all, I am really happy with my purchase. It does what I need it do, and even a little more.
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Winter is really upon us now, finally with some snow to go along with the 
bone and soul crushing cold. It’s a mixed bag for me, us getting a bunch of snow. With snow comes a lot of hardship, and also some benefits too.
One of the immediate benefits of the eight or so inches of snow is that my cabin is much better insulated. The old pink fiberglass insulation in the attic is more for show at this point than actual insulating value, but the snow on the roof just bottles of the heat from the stove and makes the cabin much more comfortable.
However, I may think the cabin is more comfortable simply because I now have a third of a mile to hike up to it. Not being able to drive right to the cabin raises a whole host of issues. I can’t use the car as a generator to watch TV and keep the chickens warm. I can’t warm up the car before I leave when it’s thirty below outside. If I forget something in the car, it’s getting frozen and staying there overnight most likely.
But it is nice to be able to just step outside and go skiing. Pico’s getting more exercise since I can actually enjoy the outdoors. When it’s not thirty below. And I like the way everything looks, and how the snow helps reflect the light of the late afternoon sun. One thing that I have been keenly noticing, is the gain in daylight.
Even with the electric lights, it is still difficult to maintain a somewhat normal schedule due to the lack of sunlight. But we’re up to almost eleven hours a day, and I have been literally basking in the added light. Not outside of course, but while lying on the couch.
I’m happy that the chicken tent has not had to make a re-appearance, and that the girls and Midget have been content in the coop. The additional snow makes the coop more insulated too, and even though they have no idea why, I’m sure they’ve been happy in the warmer digs.
So all in all, I guess I don’t mind the snow. It’s the middle of February and won’t be here long. I missed a lot of the winter not being able to ski or snowshoe, but I’m also looking forward to not having to drag my clean laundry up the driveway in a sled.
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Yesterday morning, I let the chickens out into their run, just like I always do. 
I sprinkled some food in there and gave them my customary “Hey Ladies!” I’ve stopped trying to keep them in the run, as they seem to get out now whenever they feel like it.
Even so, I closed the plastic over the opening in the run, and went back inside to have some tea. Whitey is far and away my most vocal chicken, and she was squawking up a storm. I looked out to see her relentlessly attacking the plastic covering the opening, and as I watched, she escaped. But to my surprise, she immediately hopped back into the coop.
Normally, she’d be out and about pecking at the ground, but for some reason, she had gone willingly into the coop. I’m not sure why, but I thought that maybe she was laying an egg. I haven’t had any eggs from the girls yet, but I was expecting them any time.
I went out and looked into the coop. She was in there, in the back corner, not making any noise. I opened the door to the nesting boxes, but there were no eggs. I looked back in at Whitey, crouched in the corner in a small depression in the straw and balsam boughs. All of a sudden, I spotted a smooth white shape right next to Whitey’s feet. Sure enough, it was an egg.
But Whitey was still crouched there in the corner, and quite frankly, she looked constipated. Her body was heaving a little bit and her neck was working its way in and out. Unexpectedly, she dropped an egg. It made a dull thud as it hit the make-shift nest, and Whitey looked considerably relieved. She made a few small noises and took a few steps.
In my excitement, I grabbed a small wooden cane that’s been hanging on the porch since I moved in. I used the curved end to reach into the coop to fetch the eggs. Whitey was not happy about this. She started yelling at me as I reached in and grabbed the eggs. The one she had just laid was still warm, but the other was cold.
I can only imagine when the cold one was laid. As far as I know, Whitey is the only one laying, so it was probably a day or two old. Luckily it’s been cold enough to keep the egg refrigerated for me. I washed the two eggs, and later cooked them for lunch. It wasn’t much of a lunch, as these were small eggs. Deep golden yellow yolks made the scrambled eggs look almost like sunset.
They were delicious, though I’m most likely a little biased. But it was sweet to get something out of the chickens other than a peck to the eye.
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Well, they say that spring is here, but the eighteen inches of snow on the 
ground out here says otherwise. While show shoeing up in the back of the property, I took an old ax handle and checked the snow depth. There’s still two feet of snow where the sun doesn’t shine.
I needed a break this week. The wood stove is once again giving me problems with negative pressure causing smoke to come into the cabin. I would be a lot more worried about this if it was December or January, but since it’s the end of March, it’s really not bothering me that much. Obviously, the stove and the chimney need to be replaced, but now is not the time for that.
I can get by for a few weeks, occasionally staying at friend’s houses or just getting a small fire going to take the chill out of the air at night. I’m done having a fire going all the time now though since I would really like to avoid having the cabin burn down. Luckily, the end is in sight and the days are warm and sunny enough that I don’t need a fire.
I’ve spent the week sleeping at a friend’s house, with the cats and Pico. I’m still spending my days and evenings at the cabin, but taking advantage of the offer of an “on-grid” place to stay. It’s been really nice having internet and TV and hot water. I know I’m not the only one who feels that it’s time for winter to hit the road, and I enjoy knowing that the end is near.
But in the mean time, I’m taking advantage of the warm days and the sun staying up much later. I like not falling asleep at six in the afternoon, and the solar lights are working well with the increased daylight. The solar radio still doesn’t get enough juice during the day for more than an hour or so of listening time though.
This is also my favorite time of year to go skiing and snow shoeing. There’s enough snow on the ground that it’s still easy to bushwhack through the woods without getting caught on downed trees or branches. My girlfriend and I went for a snow shoe the other day to check on Upper Camp and just kind of explore the woods behind the log cabin. We had no problem with obstructions, but definitely needed the snow shoes to get around.
For most of the fall, I was looking for an old double-bit ax to rehab. I decided it would be easier to just buy a new one, so I did. But on our trek to Upper Camp, I checked the wood shed and barn to make sure that no critters had moved in. I found an old double-bit ax in each of the buildings. The handles are shot, the heads are pocked and rusty, and the edges are most likely too far gone to make either ax all that useful again. But I grabbed them and carried them back to my cabin anyway.
I’m going to clean them up and put new handles in even if I don’t get to use the axes for anything other than decoration. It’s part of the feeling of spring that I want to rehab something that’s pretty much useless. The season is changing and it’s a chance for all of us to rehab our mental states and start looking again for the simple beauty in the world.
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It’s forty degrees, the icicles are dripping snowmelt off the roof, and it’s 
snowing out. Today seems to be a perfect example of the paradox of the season. March starts tomorrow, and the end of winter is in sight. But there’s a pretty solid likelihood of getting a bunch more snow, as well as days and nights that are bitterly cold.
This, for me, is often the toughest time of the year. I’m still enjoying the winter skiing and snowshoeing, as well as the sight of the white woods. But as we get deeper into March and closer to my birthday, I start getting antsy for spring to be here. Last year, there wasn’t really a part of the winter like this, seeing as it was so warm and light on snow. I mean, I went canoeing on my birthday in late March last year. That was definitely a first for me.
The driveway is a hot mess now too. I’m still able to drive up to the cabin and haven’t had to hike in since the middle of January. But as the snow that’s on the ground gets heavier and wetter, it’s harder and harder to stay on the tracks I’ve made. I’ve slid off the tracks a few times and always have to back up a little bit before getting back on them and driving up to the yard. It won’t be long before I’m complaining about the mud at the top of the driveway, but for now, I’ll have to complain about the snow.
Pico and I took a nice long walk down the road this afternoon. I don’t keep him on a leash out here, as he has never shown an inclination to take off on me. He wanders a hundred yards ahead of me and sometimes if he finds something especially interesting to smell, I may even get ahead of him a little bit. Today was the first time all winter when someone came down the road as we were walking though. I grabbed Pico’s collar and held on as the pickup truck drove by us to the end of the road, turned around and came back by. I recognized the truck as one of my “neighbors” from down the road about two miles. His little dog was sticking its head out the window as they went past and the little dog and Pico shared a hello bark as the driver and I shared the obligatory half wave.
I think what makes this time of year something that I think about is that it’s warm and nice and perfect weather for going out and doing my favorite activities, but due to the overcast sky and chance of rain, I find it hard to be motivated to go skiing. The days are longer and warmer but there’s always the feeling that I can go tomorrow. Without having to drive anywhere to go skiing, it’s easy for me to throw on some clothes and boots and head out right from the front door.
Even though I am looking forward to the warm days of spring there’s also the dread that the snow coming down could turn to rain, and kill the snowpack that’s already on the ground. Then there won’t be any skiing tomorrow or anytime soon. It’s the differences in these two attitudes that makes March interesting. I can’t wait to go skiing again, and I also can’t wait to be able to walk around the woods without snowshoes or skis.
This sums up my attitude about living out here as well. I love the life and simple pleasures my lifestyle provides. But I’m torn when I want to take a hot shower or just veg out and watch TV. The paradox of the season is representative of my lifestyle. Looking forward to polar opposite desires brings me down and motivates me at the same time. I’d like to take a hot shower whenever I want, but I also don’t want to pay for utilities or live in some dumpy apartment. I just have to weigh my desires and decide which is best for me, just like anyone else. After all, the hard decision of moving out here has already been made. Now it’s up to me to make it work.
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Like most people, I sometimes make decisions that I regret. Last week I made one of those decisions, and I have been regretting it ever since. The decision I made was to shave off my beard. On the coldest day of the year. It’s not that I’m worried about my ability to grow another beard, but it’s been, well, cold and for some reason I seemed to forget how much insulation I get on my face from the beard. In hindsight, it was a horrible decision.
I made another decision recently which is turning out to be much better though. I bought a double-bit axe for use around the property, and I could not be happier.
Amy doesn’t want me to cut down any live, healthy trees out here for fire wood, so I am relegated to cutting only trees that are already dead and/or down. Luckily, we’ve had some pretty severe wind this winter and there has been no shortage of trees to buck up and drag out of the woods. I use the chainsaw for almost all of this work. But when I’m cutting what’s called a “widow-maker,” the chainsaw can get pinched in the tree if I misread how the tree will fall. It doesn’t happen that often, but it’s good to know that I now have a nice axe to use to chop out the chainsaw.
I got a double-bit for two main reasons. The first is that they have straight handles, so it’s a pretty accurate axe. The other is that I can keep one blade sharp for chopping, and the other a little more dull for splitting. After splitting several cords of wood by hand last year with an eight pound maul, swinging the three and a half pound axe is much, much easier.
I’ll still use the maul for knotty wood or the really big logs. It’s heavy, unwieldy, and gets stuck a lot, but gets the job done. I also have a ten pound mini-sledge to get the maul through the really nasty logs, but that’s a lot of weight to be swinging around all day. The combination of the two pretty much guarantees that I can get any log split, but it might take a long time to get a few pieces of burnable fire wood. Three and a half pounds versus eight is a pretty easy decision.
And speaking of decisions, there is an annual event that starts this week which always makes me happy that I’ve decided to make the northern Adirondacks home: Winter Carnival.
Carnival is what makes a hard winter bearable. Carnival is something that I think everyone who lives in the Saranac Lake region looks forward to. It is like a winter break for everyone. And as an adult, who doesn’t wish that they still got all the vacations that school kids get?
For those of you who don’t know, Winter Carnival is a weeklong celebration of surviving through the winter. There is a Royal Court, concerts, contests, an Ice Palace, and the whole thing culminates in an unforgettable parade. Outside. In the middle of February. Needless to say, there may be some alcohol involved in one or more of these events.
Back when I was in college, there was a standing rule that my parents were not allowed within fifty miles of Saranac Lake on parade weekend. I’ve grown up a little bit since then, but they still honor the buffer. The parade really brings the community together. People travel from all over the country and world to attend Carnival, and I have yet to hear of anyone coming away disappointed.
It’s a boon to the town, as well as to everyone’s psyche. You have to be pretty tough to survive the winters up here, and Carnival is a great reminder that we’re all in it together, no matter who you vote for or how much you make. We’ve all decided to tough it out up here, and Winter Carnival is our reward.
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It’s twenty-four degrees below zero outside, and even though it’s warm in the cabin, I’m still going to be wearing longjohns under my jeans all day. I had a problem with the wood stove last night. One of the metal grates that keeps the fire and coals up above the ash trap got knocked off kilter. Not wanting what was sure to be a very hot fire sitting in the ash pit all night, I attempted to put the grate back into its proper place. Even with a big metal poker and heavy leather welding gloves, I still managed to burn my thumb pretty bad. The smell of burnt leather and flesh made for an aroma that was… unpleasant.
Last week, I wrote about my plans to build a new wood shed this summer. I estimated that I will burn a little more than four cords of wood this year, and so I would like to cut, split and stack at least five cords of wood for next winter. My supply this year is getting pathetically low. I have a lot of extra soft wood that I can burn when the hardwood runs out, but on nights like the last couple, I want nice big hunks of cherry and maple roasting in the stove, not pine and poplar.
A lot of people commented that my estimate of five cords of wood seemed awfully high for a small, one-room, four-hundred square foot cabin. They are correct in that I am over-estimating for next year. I think it’s better to have too much than not enough. Especially since I am facing the dilemma of not having enough this year and the fact that fire wood doesn’t really go bad if it’s stored properly.
There are a number of reasons that I think I need so much wood. The first and foremost on my mind is that my stove is a piece of junk. I may upgrade this summer in an effort to get more efficiency. The stove I have now is actually a coal stove which gets horrible draft. The one upside to this stove is that fire box is huge, allowing me to load up the stove and keep the fire going for as much as twelve hours.
But there are a few other reasons I’m going to need so much wood, and they can all be boiled down to one big statement: My cabin was not built for someone to live in. It was built to keep a few guys warm on weekends during hunting season. From the half dozen single-paned windows to the complete lack of insulation in the walls, this place is more than a little drafty; it’s basically a tent made of wood.
From what I can tell, my cabin is the second or third structure to be built on this particular site. There’s an old stone foundation that is larger than my place, and under my cabin is a big slab of concrete. The cabin I live in was built sometime in the nineteen sixties or seventies, and it shows. My bed is in the corner against the outside walls and there is a noticeable difference in temperature from one side of the bed to the other. The walls are cold to the touch.
I keep one of the windows open a crack all the time to let in fresh air. This is an inconvenient safety feature since I burn wood, candles, oil lamps and propane inside. Without the fresh air feed, I’m not sure how long myself and the animals would have lasted. But even if I didn’t crack that one window, I think there is enough of a draft coming in through the others that we would probably be ok. The front door swells and shrinks dramatically with temperature changes. When it is warm, the door barely closes. When it’s cold, I have to latch it just to make sure a light breeze doesn’t blow it open.
And then on top of all of that, there is the floor. I hate the floor in here. The cabin is built up on cinder blocks placed on top of the old slab. Then someone just piled field stones all around the base of the cabin to create a wind-break of sorts. It is ineffective to say the least. The floor is not insulated underneath, and even with the field stones, there is a steady breeze blowing only about an inch and a half directly under my feet. This is the kind of place where you will be very unhappy without some good slippers.
The lack of insulation, the bad windows, the poor stove, and breezy floor are all factors in why I burn so much wood. I’ve added weather stripping and a few other things, and I could do some remedy work like getting better windows or adding insulation, but that seems like a lot of expense. And with the way the floor already slopes, I think it’s probably not a good idea to do too much work to this place. It’s not worth the cost or the effort. I guess I’d just rather build a big woodshed than a new cabin.
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