BUILDING
THE A-FRAME:
MEMORIES FROM 1962
Sometime
around 1960 or 1961, my parents decided to buy a piece of land in
Colorado and build an A-frame cabin on it.
They
set their sights on the area around Leadville -- "Fourteener
country". The idea was that the cabin would be a base for
our summer vacations in the West, which centered on hiking and mountain
climbing.
Somehow, my Dad became aware of "K & G Associates" -- a fellow named Mac Donald Knight, and his partner, whose last name was Gauthier --
who were selling pieces of land just north of Tennessee Pass.
Knight and Gauthier had
bought up a bunch of old mining claims from Eagle County for back taxes, and
they were hawking the place as "El Capitan Estates" (taking the name
from a well-known mine on the hillside).
I guess we must have first gone out there to look at the place in 1961.
I don't remember much about that trip, but my
sister reminded me that when we first went to look at it, the road that went in
later had not been cut yet. Mac Donald Knight piled us in the back of his
old jeep, and we went pretty much straight up the hillside, on an old logging
trail that was rougher than anything I had ever been on in my life to that
point.
My folks ended up buying a 5-acre claim called "Ohio Boy".
They picked out a spot that was relatively level (the claim ran up the gradient
of the hill, and there wasn't much level space to be found), and that was only
about 500 feet down the hill from the small spring near the eastern end of the
property from which we planned to draw our drinking water. That was to be
the site of our A-frame.
In
the summer of 1962, we went out there and built it. Some old notes of my
Dad's that I found show expenses for lumber of $302. I think he got a
couple of local guys to come up and help him down the 20 or so lodgepole pines
that we needed for the frame and to do a little odd carpentry; his notes
show expenses of $65 for "Beck" and "carpenter". We
also had help from John Magnason, who lived on Highway 24 at the bottom of
the hill (more stories there -- left untold for now). Mostly, though, he
built it himself -- with such help as the rest of us could provide. That
consisted of my Mom, my older brother and sister, my younger sister, and
me. I was a couple months shy of 11 at the time.
We
were little, but we worked. Boy, did we work. One of the jobs I
recall most vividly, was peeling the bark off of the trees that had been cut for
the frame. I can still remember that old chisel my Dad gave me to work
with -- can almost feel it in my hands. The trees did not yield up their
bark easily. It was the middle of summer, and
it was hot, sweaty work.
We
also helped haul the logs back in from the woods where they had been cut. The
logs were green, having just been cut, and they were too heavy to carry.
My Mom's photos show at least two diferent methods for handling them -- a kind
of travois arrangement, with the log spiked to a crosspiece that two people
would then hold onto while they dragged it, and a somewhat less
sophisticated method: dragging the thing on the end of a rope.
We
lived "on site" during construction. My parents and sisters had
the old army surplus tent that had always accompanied our family on our
summer camping vacations; my brother and I slept in the back of the family
station wagon.
Our only other living space was a shelter made by suspending plastic sheeting
around and over a space defined by 4 pines, next to the cabin site. We had
a table and a few makeshift shelves there, with the coleman stove and the
cooking supplies, and that is where we cooked and ate.
The lumber that was to be used as the sheathing on the side of the
cabin was piled next to the building site, and it served as a playground of sorts, or sometimes
just as a place to sit and read.
I
still remember the shot shown here, with us kids (and my Dad in front) pulling up one of
the A-frames. I remember it because I was sick as a dog that day, with
some kind of flu or something.
I had been sacked out in my bed in the back
of the old station wagon. My Mom got me out, though, to come and pose for
this shot. Everyone else looked like they were working hard to pull up the
frame; I was just working at staying upright. Once the photo was
taken, I went right back to bed.
Except for the chain saw used to cut down the trees for the framing timbers,
the place was, of course, built entirely with hand tools - every nail driven by
hand, every board cut made with an old hand saw. I spent a lot of my time
playing off in the woods, away from the cabin, and the sounds of that hammering
and sawing echoed in the background all the time.
It
was the only human sound to be heard anywhere on the hillside, because we were
the only people there. Our nearest neighbor was John, down on the highway.
During
the building process, I don't remember doing much more than a little
"play" carpentry. I do remember, though, running around the site
and (probably) getting in the way. I had a few mishaps, of course.
Before the floor was put down, I was walking along one of the joists, using it
for a balance beam. My balance wasn't good enough, and I slipped, and fell
- and in the worst way: astraddle the joist, one leg on either side. Luckily, the insides of my
thighs took the force of the fall (and incurred the damage), and the bits
farther up survived.
 The
A-frame cabin served as our summer vacation home through the 1960's and into the
1970's. Even after I went off to college, and stopped being involved in what I
saw as "childish" things like vacations with the family, my parents
kept going up there. My last visit -- of the "old era" -- was in
1971. I didn't get back there, until 1995.
POSTSCRIPT:
In
1971, nine
years after we built the A-frame, there was an addition to our little compound -- my folks put up the small
cabin across the road from the A-frame. While my folks later sold the
A-frame, they hung onto the little "shack".
In this photo, John Magnason (left) and my Dad (right) are finishing up the
framing of the roof. The A-frame can be seen in the
background.
It was initially put up to serve as a cooking cabin, since cooking with the
wood stove tended to heat up the A-frame pretty well and on warm summer days it
could get uncomfortably stuffy in there. My folks located a beautiful old
enameled wood cook stove, with 4 burners and oven, and put it in the cabin.
 During the long hiatus when no one visited, the place sustained some serious
wear. The support poles that my folks had left wedged up against the
rafters had been taken down and not replaced by a cousin who visited the place
sometime in the '80s. The weight of the winter's snows bore down on the
roof, eventually damaging the roofing and the structure itself, and water leaked
in (destroying the stove). The roof was close to collapse when I
came out in 1995 and fixed it.
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