We Meet The Sellers

Now it was late August of 2008. We decided to drive up to Duchesne and meet the couple who were selling the property. They owned it for 20 years, and had their regrets over letting it go. Many wonderful memories, but ultimately their health prevented them from being able to keep it up. It was a beautiful late summer day, and we decided to take my oldest son Jedidiah and his two boys, Little Jed and Benjamin, to see the place.

Karen, the owner, and her husband, were waiting for us at the first of two gates and a chain that keeps uninvited visitors from coming in. As we drove, we noticed that we could see the peak that the trailer and property sat on, but we couldn't see the trailer itself. So many dead trees around the property! I wondered why I didn't notice this before.

We visited with Karen and her husband, walked around the property, looked at the trailer and two campers that were there, and she showed Jerry where two of the property markers were.


Huffing and puffing, I soon discovered how out of breath one can become while hiking around at 9,000 foot altitude. Again, I was struck by how many trees appeared to be dead or dying.

All in all, we were very happy with our find. The existing trailer, campers and structure seemed to be in pretty good condition, although old and a little bit ratty (literally and figuratively).

Karen mentioned that a pack rat had made a home under the trailer years ago (I swear it must have been at least 10 or more years by the size of debris), and pointed out the 3 foot pile of sticks, bark and trash that had piled up directly beneath the trailer adjacent to the front door, and in the storage area at the back of the 5th wheeler.

While I am basically a mountain girl (I grew up in the Sierras in Northern California, and was a tomboy by all definitions, so I don't consider myself delicate), I don't like the idea of living in the midst of rat or mouse droppings and other things that are difficult to define but easy to smell. So Jerry and I put that at the top of our "to do" list; clean out the pack rat nest. I think it made Karen feel sorry for the poor little pack rats who would soon become homeless; but I figured that they would take off for better diggs anyway, when they discovered that a big black
dog named Perla had taken up residence.

She showed us the loft that was built into the roof structure that protects the 5th wheeler during the wintertime; what a fun place for kids to play in, and did it ever stir memories of my childhood days spent in Sherman Acres at my grandparent's cabin! I still dream of those times, snuggled deep in my blankets usually with one or two sisters or cousins next to me, my parents and grandparents down the other end of the loft in their own beds, and my great grandmother Ida Marshall, locked in her little "cubby". At 90, she had old age dementia and would tend to wander if not kept in a safe, secure place. Those mountains were no place for a 90 year old person to be wandering around, lost and cold.

One time in the 1960's, my father, a barber and bartender, decided to walk from a party back to
Tamarack Lodge where my parents worked; this was a

20- mile walk in 40 to 50 degree temperature through the forest, at night time, with bears and mountain lions inhabiting the area. My father had an incredible sense of direction; he was something like a mountain pigeon with a built in homing device. If anyone wanted the very best guide in the Sierra Nevadas, at least along the Ebbetts Pass on Highway 4, my dad was the one to choose. We kids heard a little bit about his adventure the next day, but didn't get all the details like the grownups did, until years later. Not only did he make it back by morning; he did so after drinking a LOT of alcohol. He was about as close to a mountain man as you could be in the 1960's.

Jerry and I also decided that the dead trees had to come down. Not only were they a fire hazard, but a big wind could easily push them right on top of the structures, or worse, on a person. And, beside all that, they were really ugly.

The long drive back to the city was full of chatter and planning what we would decide to do with this great piece of land. I, however, was preoccupied with how we were going to get rid of the pack rat nest, and the smell that eminated out of the midst of it from beneath the trailer.

Our Search For A Cabin In The Sky

This blog was created so that Jerry and I could document and share our journey into (vacation) home-steading in Northeastern Utah which began in spring of 2008. We decided a year or so ago to look for property that we could park our 30 foot trailer on, so that when we wanted to go camping, all we would have to do is drive to our own private campground and settle in! We figured this would save gas money (it costs a lot to haul that trailer around!) and the time it takes to find an available campsite, especially during holidays in Utah. Our search took us up to Ogden Canyon in the fall of 2007; while we found property that was affordable, it was pretty ugly. In the spring of 2008, we drove up to Strawberry River near the small community of Fruitland, and drove south on a little dirt road that had plenty of available property advertised on the web. We found the Strawberry Pinnacles on this trip, and a little piece of property (about 2 acres) that was for sale. While we loved the view (picture right upper corner), the price was a little out of our range - $100,000!

A few months later, we took a drive up to Duchesne, Utah, about 120 miles east of Salt Lake City, to see what the properties in the area near Peggy and Ernie Houghtby, my son Jed's parents-in-law, looked like. We stopped at a small mountain properties real estate company and, though it was closed, quickly skimmed all of the bulletins posted on their front window. About 10 minutes later, the owner of the company drove up and we began to chat with him about the various properties that we had been looking at. Just before we were planning to leave, he mentioned another property that was not yet listed. The owner had told him her plans to put the property on the market but had not quite come to the decision to do so, because she had not discussed it with her adult children yet. He told us where the property was, and we decided then and there to go and look at it.
It took us about an hour to drive there, but when we walked the two miles in and looked at the property that was "almost" for sale, we became very excited over the initial impression we had of the pines, aspens, canyons, flowers, the mountain smells, and most of all, the view.



The property, 10 acres, had a 5th wheeler and two campers, all functional and ready to use. The 5th wheeler, with kitchen, bathroom, dining area, and bedroom, was covered with a very well-made structure that kept the average 6 foot snow fall from collapsing the roof during the winters. The view as seen from the front door of the trailer, was exceptional to say the least.
We walked around the trailer, but without knowing where the property lines were, we tried to curb our enthusiasm so that our hopes would not be crushed. As soon as we got back to Salt Lake City that evening, we emailed the realtor and told him we wanted it. Oh yeah, how much was the owner asking? To our surprise and delight, she was only asking $39,500 for everything that was on the property at the time, including a 35 foot 5th wheel trailer and winter structure, and 2 camper shells with kitchen, bath, table and sleeping area, and 10 acres of beautiful forest and views. Well, we still wanted it and please can you call her tonight and tell her we will offer her the price she is asking?




Two weeks later we were the proud owners of 10 acres of land bordering the Ashley National Forest in northeastern Utah. It is 120 miles east of Salt Lake City, 40 miles south of Duchesne, 30 miles north of Price, off of Highway 191 near the Avintaquin Federal Campgrounds. Oh, and did I mention that it is at 9,000 feet altitude? I was lost for days, dreaming about what we had ventured into, and what we could do to make the property our "Cabin in the Sky".
I thought about my childhood summers spent at my grandmother's cabin at Sherman Acres in the Sierra Nevada Mountains near Tamarack Lodge where my parents worked, and near Bear Valley, where eventually, developers came in and made it a ski resort. Could this be a place for my children Jed, Jesse, Jonathan, Tegan and Carl, and grandchildren Samantha, Jed, Ben and Ellie, to build memories on, to spend long hot summer and fall days and cool nights making forts, finding little animals, curling up in a rocker with a good book, roasting marshmallows over a fire, using the outhouse down the path on freezing cold spring mornings, and seeing bears that curiously come and check the human smells out? Hmmm, and maybe with phone reception, a good tv antenna, internet, it could really be great........or not so great. Regardless, it was bound to be a great adventure for Jerry and I, and a good project to work on.