Tag Archives: cabin build

Alaska, Off-grid living, Squashing Bugs

Start fresh every day.

2 Comments
The bright blue skies of June.

I’ve been stuck in a rut. I’ve started and deleted a couple of posts. I have a bunch of things I’d like to write about but the words just won’t take shape. It feels a little frustrating and I haven’t been able to force my way through the block. I’ll need to find a way around.

It has been a year since I left Oregon behind. Right now I feel like I am in the same position as I was when I arrived in Alaska. I don’t have reliable transportation. (Chris is working and uses my truck. The Scone is still not working.) The cabin is still on hold. (We should be able to pull the sawmill off the property today so we can get it repaired.) I’m not working regularly. (Okay, I’m scheduled for two days a week, but they’re having their own roadblocks so it feels like no progress there.) On top of all that, when I do work my feet and body end up hurting so bad that it takes all week to recover so I can do it again.

I came across someone’s quote yesterday, “Don’t be afraid of failure, be afraid of being in exactly the same place year after year.” And that’s where my mind is. I’m seeing all the ways that I am not making progress. I feel like I’m going backwards, especially with my physical condition. It doesn’t help that I had a cold knock me down for a couple of days this week.

Forgive my whining. I don’t like to do it, but sometimes it’s like sweeping up the dust from the floor and starting fresh. My brain generates all these negative thoughts and they collect like dust bunnies in the works. You can sweep them under the rug, but that doesn’t make them go away. Saying them out loud and acknowledging them seems to work better. Bring them out into the open and cancel them with reality, then they can be collected for the trash. There will be another batch soon enough. It’s best to not let them build up.

So how am I in a different place than I was last year?

I have done a lot of healing. I don’t have nearly as much bitterness in my soul as I did last June. I know myself a bit better. I know some more of what brings me joy and I have been learning how to allow myself to settle into that. It seems simple, but it’s harder than you might think.

The cabin is actually started. The beams are in place and it looks like they didn’t settle much during mud season. That’s good. All we need is a working sawmill and a couple of days and we can have our stack of lumber. Then it’s a matter of getting the framing done and the roof on. If we put the RV on site I can even do some of the work while Chris is in town. I really should see about getting some gravel down in the parking area…

I do have a job that I like, even though what’s available over the summer is kicking my butt. I know they want me to be available for when the season starts again in August. It’s good to know that I’m wanted.

I have also learned a lot over the winter. I learned about my abilities and limits. (I can do more than I thought I could.) I learned that I can live well with less. I know I want to share some of that. I just have to get around that imposter syndrome crap! Why does it feel fake if I’m doing it?

Tamarack, or Eastern Larch,is a deciduous conifer. The needles turn gold and shed in the fall,then grow back for summer.

Life runs in cycles. Every year follows a similar pattern to the year before. I guess the question is whether you are on a track going in circles or if you are in a spiral. If you’re just making your run deeper then I hope you like where you are. I’d rather be working my way up the spiral.

I think that’s enough for now. I’ll try to make more posts and fewer excuses. And I hope you will talk back to me. Ask questions. Tell me what you’re curious about. Some things about living here are slightly surreal, like having daylight all the time. That’s a post for later. For now I’ll leave you with some flower pics.

Lingnon berry flowers. They grow like a ground cover all through the forest, and are especially thick at the edges where they get the sun.
Wild current. I know someone who calls them high bush cranberries. Both these and lingnon berries taste very much like cranberries.
The wild roses are now in bloom.
Off-grid living, Stories

It’s all about access.

If you have been reading this blog over the last year there has been one major theme, aside from snow. When can I get on my land so I can build?

All last summer the unusual amount of rain made my new driveway treacherous. All winter there was enough snow that we weren’t going to try. This spring we were waiting for it to melt. And now we wait for the mud to dry out some more.

My driveway a month ago.
My driveway yesterday.

One of the things that kept coming up when I was looking at land a considering the purchase of the property I now own was that you always look at access and water. I know how to handle water for consumption on the property and I know where most of the water flows across or collects on the property. I’m mostly okay with that at this point. What I’m struggling with is access.

Putting in the driveway was a great starting point. Now I really need to put in some time, effort, and gravel. That means money. I think I’m going to get off my butt and call up a local gravel company to see what it’s going to cost me to get started. If I can get something done on that then I will have an easier time getting started on all the other things that need doing.

I’m so glad I bought some supplies last fall. Prices on those two stacks have gone up considerably.

Part of the reason we went to check on the property was to see if our plywood was still there. I bought a stack of 5/8 and 20 sheets of tongue and groove subfloor last fall. I’m glad I did. Bulk price on the 5/8 was under $25/sheet last year. I just checked and it’s going for $67/sheet now for the same stuff. The subfloor is over $90/sheet now where I think I paid $60. I have a slightly irrational fear that it will grow legs. Maybe that comes from where I grew up, but at this point it might be worth the bother to someone.

Clay is getting the lay of the land.

I also succumbed to temptation and tromped across more of the land. I know we’ll extend the driveway in the future. I want to put in a guest cabin or two and maybe a second residence. This place is big enough to do some interesting things. I didn’t get very far, but I love what I saw. I can’t wait.

Alaska, Cold Weather Life, Off-grid living, Stories

Welcome to the meltdown.

The above picture was taken 2 weeks ago. We drove out to check on our driveway and see how accessible it might be. It wasn’t. Chris hiked the whole way in nearly thigh high snow that had begun melting away underneath. He came back exhausted.

Last week we went back to see how it’s going. The snow was only shin deep. Still too much to risk trying to drive on. If we tried to plow it off we could end up stirring up the dirt below. So we wait. The sawmill waits. The new blades and replacement parts wait. The logs wait. Mother Nature has her own ideas.

The creek is thawing on top.
Ice floated free of the bottom of the creek.

Today we had to get outside for a while. The season ended for my work and while I have been going in two days per week to help with their summer projects this is a quiet time with not much to do. I have spent too much time indoors. So we went for a walk. The creek has been thawed enough to not walk across for a while now. But though the surface flows there was still thick ice on the bottom. Well, at least until today there was.

The kids had to play on the creek. Just like when it first started to freeze, the other kids had to share the fun with Chris. Being the person he is, there was no way he wouldn’t join in. He even had to request his axe so he could try to make iceberg islands. They goofed off for nearly an hour before other things called them away.

The big bloodsuckers are already out.

The thing that surprises me (though it shouldn’t) is how early the mosquitoes are out. A friend calls them “snow mosquitoes” and says that even though they are huge most of them don’t even bite. I wear my heavy sweatshirt to make it harder for the ones that do. Yes they are big. They are also less bothersome than the tiny ones that come later in the season. This year I’m getting a bug net to put on my hat. Last year I breathed too many of them.

So we’re still in a holding pattern. Winter is done. Spring is here, but not yet building season. We have a lot of the pieces, we just need to get them put together. Here’s hoping that we can start moving forward soon.

Alaska, Off-grid living, Stories

Let’s call this a practice run.

That time when the sawmill almost worked… We got 5 boards before it broke again and the snow came.

So my cabin didn’t get built before the snow came. I have come to see that as a blessing in disguise. As much as it would be more comfortable to have the space Chris and I are spending the winter close to friends who can help. Any time something goes wrong they are just across the creek instead of a few miles away. Not everyone gets to cheat like this their first winter living off-grid.

Last June I put together a plan for my cabin and calculated what it would cost. While we got some things set in motion, access to the build site was limited by the rain making a mess of my driveway. My building help had a friend who had fewer limitations and needed a cabin as well. So much of August and September was spent about 50 miles north of Fairbanks working on Zach’s cabin.

Watch them build Zach’s cabin here: https://youtu.be/nir6FXSIVck

The video is about 30 minutes long. Lance recorded chunks of it as they worked. All of his kids were involved at some point; even the 3 year old got to be a gofer. Chris manned the saw. The trailer my dad built was used to haul materials.

This isn’t my cabin, but it might as well be a practice run. It’s nearly the same size and design as what I plan to build. Take time to watch the video and maybe subscribe. I’m sure Lance would love to have more people to share the view from his world. He gets some amazing scenery pics driving the highways of Alaska.

If we’re lucky I’ll get him to make some videos of my cabin build next spring.