Saturday, October 13, 2018

Just in the Nick of Time

Inspirational song: One Piece at a Time (Johnny Cash)

With a melancholy heart, I can announce that this year's construction season has officially ended. We went up all day today, with an eye to finishing the roof decking and putting it to bed for the winter. It was a rough day and it hurt every one of us, but by the time we hiked out, we had succeeded. The last planks of roof decking were in, and the upper surface was wrapped in Tyvek. The tepee was emptied, and all the tools and supplies were stacked around the room and on the new temp shelves I built. All of the exterior steel panels that weren't tacked onto the west facing wall were stacked inside. The water barrel was emptied for the season, mostly on top of our second and final fire of the year. The unopened beers and ciders were carried down so they don't freeze. And as our neighbor (who I think hereafter I shall call "T" to save typing) and I started hiking out, Mr S-P drained his retention pond under the spring (that was dry most of the season), and placed sticks in it so that any tiny critters that crawl in don't get stuck in there.

It was chilly and icy on the walk down, and I had to rely heavily on a walking stick and going carefully in the deep snow on either side of the trail to make it without falling. Well, I made it all the way to three feet behind the truck, and then hit the ground where it was completely iced over. After dinner at a casino, we drove home via the Peak to Peak highway. A few miles south of Rollinsville, I noticed the first tiny flakes of snow. At first I thought I was imagining them. By Nederland it was snowing lightly. Halfway down Boulder Canyon, it seemed like it would turn to rain. By the time we cleared Boulder proper, it was obvious the arctic front arrived ahead of schedule. There was a strong headwind and heavy snow all the way home. We finished just in time. Tomorrow, we have agreed, it's an all-jammies-all-day kind of day, with beer brewing and football next door.

Yesterday's notes on each picture worked well, so I'll repeat it tonight.


Next year I'll remember to photograph this tree from the right side. When we are driving home, after the good light fades, I always notice that it looks like a voluptuous belly dancer. I forgot which side was best on the way up.


We handed our phones to the Mr to get this same vista. Worth it.


This was all the further the truck would go today. Even worse than yesterday, when we were able to climb this section after three attempts. Not so today.


This is "Happy Poop Pass." Underneath that snow is a pile of elk poop that has been there all season, and when we see it, we know that we are about to crest the hill and other than a slight uphill at the Saddle, it's downhill from there. I kept saying that seeing the poop made me happy, so it was thus named.


Oh, wait. Did you think this campsite was glamorous? Yeah, no. Years ago when we used to argue about how I didn't want to go camping, I said I would go if I could just have a comfortable place to sleep, and a place to go to the bathroom. I probably should have been more specific.


Um, guys? Maybe don't throw the wood scraps that have paint from the 1960s into the fire?



T took this shot while I was in putting up the shelves. Almost done by then.


For posterity. I was trying to come up with a group name for us, and too many of my suggestions had personally identifying information attached. So the guys suggested "The Shack Kids." I know this meme is long in the tooth already, but "They shacc. They atacc. But mostly they snacc."



My shelves aren't fancy, but they also aren't permanent. They were just a way to get small stuff off the floor so I could sweep and walk around. They are handy.


If anyone from the county goes nosing around in the property and looks in the window, they will see that this is exactly what we are allowed to build at the permitting level we chose: a tool shed. There's a whole shedload of tools in there now.


Wrapped up and ready to go. Maybe in a few weeks, the Mr will snowshoe in to put Tyvek on the door. But otherwise, it's done for the year. For as verbose as I am, I'm not sure I have all the words for the sense of accomplishment we have.


After smores, just about to go home, as soon as water is poured on the coals.


While I was cresting the hill above Happy Poop Pass, the Mr was behind me, getting one last glimpse of the range before the storm covered the mountains.


And that's all, folks. Done for the year. If we get the snow we are supposed to this season, it might be it until mid June. It's been a hoot, really.

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