Starting A Cabin
After successfully crossing the trestle we could see the two
shiny rails stretching ahead, into the forest. After a quick look
back to make sure I was ready, my dad took off, bumping down the rough trail
right on the edge of the tracks.
The railroad is built high up on a gravel bed 15 to20
feet above the surrounding ground. A narrow trail was precariously perched
between the railroad tie ends and the steep gravel bank. There was so little room that I had to
constantly watch so that I would not hit the railroad ties on one side or roll
down the gravel bank on the other.
(The trail is much nicer now and is down beside the railroad as is shown in this picture above, which I took recently, much safer!)
Mile by mile we traveled. Riding along my head was filled
with thoughts of what might lie ahead. I
was startled out of my day dreaming. I looked up to see a large
light in the middle of the railroad tracks! Where was I to go? the train was coming!
My dad stopped and motioned me to get over as close as
possible to the edge of the bank. As I dismounted, the train was upon us. It towered over us, rushing at us with a shrill of the whistle and burst of wind. Waving cheerfully the engineer smiled and was gone. Then all we heard was the regular beat of the train as it rolled by just a few
feet away.
We continued on, turning off the tracks into the forest. The
trail led away from the lowlands into the foothills of the Talkeetna Mountains,
toward the place I had been dreaming about for so many months.
What a different place than the white sea of snow I had
experienced the winter before. Now it was one long ribbon of mud and water
interspersed with creeks. On and on we
went through unending mud puddles. It wasn't long before I was soaked to the skin.
As the trail lead deeper and deeper into the forest it became less and less traveled. The mud gave way to tree roots and the humus of the forest floor. Making the trail drier for sure, but oh so much more bumpy!
Traveling on, the hills became taller and the creeks larger. Stopping for a rest my dad said that we were getting closer. Just a couple more miles and we would be there! He pointed out over the valley and from where we sat we could see a large swampy area about a mile away.
This is the swamp that lay behind our place. There was only two more stream to cross, up a short hill and then just a few more twists of the trail and we would be there!
As we climbed the last muddy hill and crossed the last muddy stream, my excitement grew. Then I saw a ribbon on a tree. Even before
my dad stopped to tell me that this marked our property line, I knew I had come
home. I looked around at the forest and
knew this was a place to rest, a home.
We soon found a convenient place and set to work making
a temporary camp. This camp we would use as we built our cabin. We made a ladder
of large spikes driven into a birch tree. Then we could string a rope high in the tree, to keep our food out
of the reach of bears.
Cutting slender spruce poles we used them to make a lean-to with tarps. It would give us a dry place to cook, eat and rest besides the tent. After the lean-to was built we set up the tent. By that time I was starving! finally after building a roaring fire and hanging my wet cloths to dry it was time to eat!
Sitting down by the fire after a long, cold wet day I was ready to soak up the warmth and rest.
The next few days were filled with rain and work cutting trees, putting joists on the floor
and getting ready for the plywood flooring. Finally it was the last soggy
evening. It was time to pack up and head home.
Unknown to us the
streams we had crossed a few days before with ease, had become raging torrents.
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