NOAA Live Weather Webcam

We found this great live webcam of Indian Summit North, which is right up the road from us.

Here is the view to the south; this webcam is not always working as well as the one viewing the north.

Missing the Cabin

It's snowing in Utah, and definitely snowing hard up at our property in the Ashley National Forest. We can see how much snow has fallen by looking at the webcam at the top of Indian Canyon. We're going to have to plan a winter trip into the property with snowmobiles, plenty of hot cocoa and warm clothes, and lots of emergency supplies.

OH MY GOD LOOK what happened in the garage!!!

I was out in the garage this morning and I saw the most amazing sight! I simply had to take a picture to show you all. I believe that this is a case of immaculate conception. Let me know if you think I'm wrong!

Jerry.

If A Tree Falls In The Forest......

And no one is around to see it fall, does it make a sound? This is a little example of some of the useless garbage we bantered about in our brains in the 60's and 70's. My son says that's why this country is in the mess it's in now; because the Baby Boomer generation wasted brain cells on useless euphemisms like that. But I actually thought a lot about this little ditty last weekend. We spent a significant chunk of time cutting down trees in a forest (don't get so worked up! they were all dead before we cut them down). It was kind of fun and dangerous, like building a huge bonfire and getting as close as possible yet not getting burned.

First, though, I thought I would make a list of a few things that are good to have in the mountains (the term "good" doesn't nearly represent the benefit of having these things! It's like saying "It's good to have a roll of toilet paper in the bathroom before you go in...)

A BIG-A__ CHAINSAW

This little girl is a Husqvarna 2100 with 25 inch bar; we bought it used off of KSL Classifieds here in Utah for $200; thanks, Jesse F. down in Washington County! She ran like a charm!!! But you were right; starts out weighing 12 to 13 pounds, and after about 3 hours, she weighs 40 or 50 pounds. One thing, though - works better when you put the chain on the right direction.

Funny how it smokes so much when the chain is going the wrong way.

OK, that's much better. Wonder if any damage was done by having it on wrong?


A nice heavy duty Tonka Wagon to pull heavy objects around the property. This one was picked up on Freecycle; yep, it was free. I like the color!


Same photo, different thought. A generator is not absolutely vital, but pretty darn nice to have. This is a Coleman 1800 Watt generator; Jerry found it at a pawn shop in Salt Lake for $250. We watched a DVD on my laptop powered by the generator Saturday night. All I can say is, "Don't mess with the Zohan" and don't watch the Zohan; you'll be sorry you did.

A Black and Decker leaf blower (yes, it is electric so you have to have a generator to use it; would have been better if it had been gas-powered). This little guy, a Christmas present from Jerry to me a couple of years ago, was very handy when it came to blowing things off the roof of the trailer, like this:


You guessed it; another "midden". This one was not any where near as big as the one that was under the trailer when we first started cleaning up the property. Still, there was a lot of packrat poop, sticks, and other difficult-to-identify objects. I had to force Jerry to put gloves and mask on before getting up there with the blower. Oh yeah, don't forget those:

That isn't Jerry in the photo. I don't know who it is, just found it on the web.

A good watchdog is great to have. Perla is mostly Black Lab, part PitBull. She barks at strangers and keeps us warm in bed at night. She provides hours of hilarious entertainment too.


A map of your property; very nice to have! That way, if neighbors come by and want to see where their property line is, you can show them.


And lastly, for now, a beautiful sunrise. A camera is very nice to bring with you too, so you can capture the beautiful sunrise in color.

OK, back to the tree cutting story. We (well, Jerry) cut three dead, large trees down in about 3 hours (I helped stack the limbs and logs). One of the trees fell down the wrong way, directly onto the road where I was standing. I had plenty of time to move.

This is the "V" Jerry cut to notch it into falling the way we wanted it to fall. Didn't work this time, though. He had to throw the chainsaw down and run to get out of the way.


Ever heard of the saying, wood fires warm you twice? First, when you cut the wood, second, when you burn it.

Here is a little video of Jerry getting warm three times!

Really improves the view getting these dead snags out of the way!

We decided to dig a leaching pit for the gray water to drain into. After all the work cutting trees down the day before, Jerry was up the next morning digging this ditch.

It is about 4 foot by 2 foot by 3 foot deep and has gravel in the bottom to filter the gray water through.

All covered up now. Hope we didn't violate any codes!

Next summer we will be building a large porch/deck, and an outhouse. Both projects will require many hours of digging, and we have discovered there are very large rocks beneath the soil...this little Cabin in the Sky is gonna require a lot of sweat equity!

So Great A Cloud Of Witnesses

It seems a little strange when I think about how conscious I am of the influence my ancestors continue to have on me. I guess I am more conscious than most because I have learned so much about them, more than most people learn about their folk. Tonight I got to thinking about my great great grandmother and grandfather; my father's father's father's father. Elisha Townsend, son and third child born to Thomas and Mary Townsend, on October 15, 1834 in Indiana. At the time he was born, the Townsends were still very active in the Quaker faith.

In fact, at the same time but in other parts of the country, Thomas' 3rd cousin James Townsend, abolitionist and pacifist, and many of his close kin, were major players in the development of the Underground Railroad. Thomas' grandmother, Elvira Cain Townsend (who lived to the age of 103 and was still alive during the Civil War!) refused later in life to accept her military widow's pension on the basis of conscience that the war that her husband John fought violated her Christian beliefs.

Thomas and James' great great grandfather John Townsend came to Pennsylvania in 1712, along with many other Quakers emigrating from England, to escape religious persecution. By the 1830's the Townsends had continued over 150 years of Quaker tradition that started with the first Townsend convert to George Fox in the mid 1600s in England.

Elisha's parents, Thomas and Mary, had nine children in all. The oldest daughter, Nancy, married outside of the Quaker faith to William J. Harbit in 1849. Now, I don't know if there were other things going on at the same time to cause Thomas and Mary Townsend to do what they did, or if it was (as it often is) a number of things all coming together at the same time. The result of this out-of-faith marriage, though, was that the whole family was "kicked out", so to speak, of the Quaker meeting they attended. They could have applied for a certificate to be re-admitted, but for some reason they did not. By the time the Civil War started up, Elisha, now in his early 30s, was married to Margaret A. Dickey, and they had three children. Totally against Quaker tradition, Elisha joined up with the Missouri Volunteer Infantry in 1862. Within 6 months he died of complications from the measles, and is buried in the National Cemetery in St. Louis. Would Elisha have died if his family had stayed with the Quaker tradition, if his sister Nancy hadn't married outside the faith, if his parents would have applied for re-acceptance into the church?
Their lives were so hard; I am sure I can't even fathom the difficulties they experienced, living in sod houses on the prairie and enduring the wind, dust, poverty, illness.....Margaret Dickey Townsend, Elisha's widow, remarried quickly - to Elisha's younger brother Isaac, and they went on to have three more sons. My grandfather Ott Elisha Townsend used to tell me stories about one of his half-uncles, Uncle Elisha Otto whom my grampa was named after. They were tough people, pioneers who did what they had to do to survive, lived and died by their convictions, and passed on their beliefs to their kids. Sometimes they took a road that turned out to be the harder choice for the family; like Elisha joining the Army to fight against the ideology of slavery during the Civil War. And sometimes the choice was to do God's will behind the scenes, like James and his family being host to an Underground Railroad Station to help people escape slavery. One thing for sure, they held to their convictions and trusted God.

We have only 1 1/2 weeks before the election of a new leader for our country. May we all vote with knowledge, with passion, with hope for a better future, and with prayer that our children and grandchildren will have better lives.

Hurricane Peggy

Peggy and Ernie, our grandkids' other grandparents, and the closest family members to our property, dropped us a visit yesterday morning. They built a really great house north of Duchesne, and are about 45 minutes from us. It was so nice having visitors. Ernie helped Jerry tie down some tarp on the camper shells, and Peggy kept me company in the 5th wheeler while the guys were out working. Perla (our faithful hound) kept close to her fellow-females in the trailer where it was warm and food was available. She isn't proving to be much of a mountain dog; she would rather be inside than running around chasing squirrels.
While we were pondering the impending storm and the wind that was bearing down on us, Peggy told us some fun and interesting stories about storms she had weathered in the past. Notably, several trees have fallen very close to her, and she has resigned herself to the fact that, for some unknown reason, trees seem to "fall down around me". I had this strange, nightmarish image of trees falling all around Peggy as she walked through a forest.

We were sad to see our friends/family members leave, but it was time for us to pack up our belongings and head back to Salt Lake City. 15 to 20 minutes later, Peggy called.
Peggy: "Kim, there is a very large tree down in the road. Do you have a chain saw?"
Kim: "No, we didn't bring one up this time."
Peggy: "Ernie has a carpenter's saw and is working on some of the limbs. Do you have a saw?"
Kim to Jerry: "Jerry, do we have a saw?"
Jerry: "No, I didn't bring it up this time."
Kim: "We don't have a saw with us."
Peggy: "Ernie, they don't have a saw."
Kim to Peggy: "We are leaving right away and we'll help you move it."
Peggy: "It's a really BIG tree. And just up the road is another tree that has fallen in the road. I think I'll call our neighbors in Duchesne; they have a chainsaw."

20 minutes later, we came to the spot where the tree fell over the road.

This was no little tree! Peggy wasn't joking; trees fall down around her.

One down, several (down the road) to go!

At least it was a very nice (although windy and cold) day.







What's that down the road - another tree? Peggy must have passed through here!

But it wasn't the biggest one the two Norwegian lumberjacks moved!


I guess the next thing on our shopping list for the mountain property is a couple of chain saws.
Thanks for visiting us up at our property, Peggy and Ernie! If you had not showed up when you did, we would have been stuck up there!







Then again, maybe the trees (5 in all) came down because Hurricane Peggy was here!!!!!

Nights of the Living Dead

In order to understand the full picture of what I am about to describe, I first have to tell you a bit about us. We have been married for 8 years now; both in our second marriage. We are both in the medical field. I am a Family Nurse Practitioner and Director of a small non-profit immigrant clinic in Salt Lake City. I spend my days diagnosing and treating people who, most of the time, have never been to see a health care provider; or at best, have not been to see one for many years. Many times the clinic providers diagnose rare tropical diseases that are more common in immigrant populations, but not so common in the United States. Jerry is a scientist; his area of research is blood development, and in particular, embryonic stem cells. He also studies disease and its effect on the body, but not from a medical provider’s standpoint.

We both knew that, when the time came to get to work, we needed to be very cautious about cleaning out the pack rat’s nest underneath the 5th wheel trailer. Not only could we be infected with potentially dangerous bacterial, viruses or other infectious agents; the other issue is Jerry’s allergy to mice which he developed after years of being around and working with lab rats. It may be hard to imagine a world-class scientist crawling on hands and knees beneath a trailer and digging out a huge rodent nest; but Jerry is what I would call a Renaissance Man; he brews his own beer, cans homemade preserves, produces music that he and his buddies make on their once-yearly 4 day party/sleepover, he can fix ANYTHING that is broken, he keeps up on all the yard work at home, and let’s not forget to mention he does the dishes every night after dinner.

It took both of us just about 3 hours solid, to shovel, push, drag, and manhandle all of the garbage out from beneath the trailer. Here is a sample of what was in the giant rodent nest: paper, plastic, sticks, bones of dead animals, rat feces, hardened dirt, pine cones, wire mesh, small stones, more rat feces, scraps of fabric, and a lot of items that we couldn’t identify.
According to Wikipedia, “Pack rats are prevalent in the deserts and highlands of western United States and northern Mexico. They also occur in parts of the eastern United States and Western Canada. Pack rats are a little smaller than a typical rat and have long, sometimes bushy tails. Pack rats build complex nests of twigs, called "middens", often incorporating cactus. Nests are often built in small caves, but frequently also in the attics and walls of houses.”

I felt a huge burden fall off my shoulders when we were finished. Now the funky rat’s nest smell in the trailer would be no more, and the whole place would “feel” better in general with that foul thing out of our lives. That night, Jerry built a huge fire, almost of the scale of a fire one would build at BurningMan, and we sat around it basking in our achievements for the day. Fast forward to the next morning when we awoke to the strong smell of RAT FECES throughout the trailer. My heart sank as I dressed, and it was difficult to imagine another night spent under those conditions.

Two weekends later we were armed with deodorizer, antiseptic spray, several varieties of Lysol, and rubber gloves. Jerry, who does not have an as evolved sense of smell as I, remained supportive of my convictions to rid the property of this odor that could be a deal breaker for me.

Kim to Jerry: “Do you smell it?”
Jerry to Kim: “Smell what?”
Kim to Jerry: “The rat’s nest that was under the trailer.”
Jerry to Kim: “No, I never did smell it. I don’t smell anything. My nose is plugged up.”

We scrubbed the trailer walls, cupboards, floors and every possible space that could absorb smells. We brought cushions outside to air out. We researched how to get rid of animal smells, specifically that of rodents, and decided that lime (calcium carbonate – highly caustic) would be the best, although possibly somewhat inhumane, way to get rid of the smell and deter more rats from making the area beneath the trailer their home. Finally, we decided to build a barrier around the bottom of the trailer to prevent more pack rats from moving in. After a very tiring two days of cleaning, we headed back down the hill to Salt Lake City. The smell of rat feces permeated my clothes, and I vowed to scrub my skin raw when I got home. Thankfully, the smell was greatly decreased the next time we stayed in the trailer. Finally, our most recent stay was completely funky-rat-smell-free, partially due to leaving the vents on the ceiling open for two weeks straight, and partially due to the lime under the trailer....

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.