Once, before the last phase of the road "improvements," the ones that opened those high-up routes to still sparse but previously impossible vehicular traffic, Sloan and I post-holed up through the woods toward our customary loop, climbing to the ridge and traversing before taking a twisty descent, on a 20 degree afternoon in 12 inches of powdery snow. Abel, maybe 10 months old, in a backpack, Sloan, skipping as best she could, me toting both him and a thermos of single malt Islay scotch, him, covered head forward, tucked under the back brim of my hat, warm on my neck, breathing, asleep.
Now, I often drive guests up there on wide gravel lanes under open sky. That's what they call "progress." Now, instead of suffering from the rigors of ambulatory ascension, we can avoid any exposure to damp leaves or impertinent green briar, eliminate the sensation of hard granite underfoot and keep the thin soil from roughing our boots, and eschew unconditioned mountain air, by sitting encased in plastic and steel and dusty glass, through which we may still see beyond the Plotts to Clingman's Dome. Before, we just walked.
Over the next few years, in addition to the road improvements (both real and questionable), I built stuff, learning the art of making things square and plumb and level on a ridiculously overbuilt hot tub deck, independently applying new skills on a western lodge-inspired side porch (after a rim-to-rim hike in the Grand Canyon), expanding the house for an expanding family with a bedroom addition, improving our living space with hardwood floors and a renovated garage, and reclaiming some room for myself with a two-story workshop. All those years, I'd sit in our hot tub and contemplate things, including the low ridge directly opposite from the house. I thought of another person, sitting on a deck or gazing out a window, putting wear and tear on our road, absorbing some of our peace and serenity in some kind of zero sum equation.
After buying that acreage, and not for investment, I looked for ways to benefit from its intrinsic value, ways to use it. I built three mountain bike trails on which my boys love to hike. I built a three-sided rock climbing wall with a "treehouse" perched above. I cleared a 1/4 acre on top and positioned a fire pit. Hung chairs from trees. And I built a cabin.
For my next project, I'll build a brick BBQ pit up there, and cook a pig. I'll start next summer, when the cabin's done. And blog about it...
Over the next few years, in addition to the road improvements (both real and questionable), I built stuff, learning the art of making things square and plumb and level on a ridiculously overbuilt hot tub deck, independently applying new skills on a western lodge-inspired side porch (after a rim-to-rim hike in the Grand Canyon), expanding the house for an expanding family with a bedroom addition, improving our living space with hardwood floors and a renovated garage, and reclaiming some room for myself with a two-story workshop. All those years, I'd sit in our hot tub and contemplate things, including the low ridge directly opposite from the house. I thought of another person, sitting on a deck or gazing out a window, putting wear and tear on our road, absorbing some of our peace and serenity in some kind of zero sum equation.
After buying that acreage, and not for investment, I looked for ways to benefit from its intrinsic value, ways to use it. I built three mountain bike trails on which my boys love to hike. I built a three-sided rock climbing wall with a "treehouse" perched above. I cleared a 1/4 acre on top and positioned a fire pit. Hung chairs from trees. And I built a cabin.
For my next project, I'll build a brick BBQ pit up there, and cook a pig. I'll start next summer, when the cabin's done. And blog about it...
Always a process. A pig pit would be a nice addition.
ReplyDeleteI'll help, as long as I don't have to eat pig.
ReplyDeleteMark must be a better person than me because I'm all for eating pig, but not so much for the help.
ReplyDeleteCooper, I could move the timeline up a few months and get started now. I understand mixing concrete and moving bricks builds strong backs!
ReplyDelete