We end this series today with a photo of one of the corners of the kitchen that is found in this primitive getaway cabin. It is an inviting area, with cabinets made out of antique wood, and finished with a copper counter top, and a handmade sink.

I think this photo does a better job in capturing the feeling that we were trying to achieve in building this little log cabin than in any other image that I’ve shared over the past week.

This little log cabin was never intended by it’s owners to be occupied full time. Few people in America today would choose to completely free themselves of our middle-class standard of living. We like our simple luxuries.

To this day the owners still visit here weekly, often more than once, and they frequently spend a night or two. They share the cabin with friends and family and they tell me that this little cabin has been one of the greatest sources of joy in their life, because of the memories and experiences of the times spent here.

The cabin is hidden far into the woods where the only sounds heard are of those of nature. There is no electricity or wifi to distract. No plumbing to take for granted. The seasons are experienced in all their splendor.

There is a little stove seen in the photo that provides a cooking surface, and just enough hot water. It also provides abundant heat when needed, along with the fireplace that is found in the opposite end of the cabin.

There is a year-round spring just footsteps from the cabin where water is always fresh and abundant. It is carried to the little copper sink in the kitchen for washing and cleaning.

The cabin also features a loft bedroom that is accessed from a steep staircase complete with a comfy bed. A place where dreams reach a new intensity.

I have had the privilege of building numerous log cabins throughout my career. Only a few though were left as rustic as this one. It is a treasure.

Thank you for letting me share the story of this project with each and every one of you. Time to head on to another project to “tell the tale”… let’s see… we’ve done the eleven sided silo, and the barn/home… maybe…

Noah

Originally posted 2015-02-20 16:52:54.

Any one out there ever used an outhouse? (or as I refer to it “a privy”?)

It’s an experience that you won’t soon forget, and one that you hope to never repeat. The mind wonders about such things as spiders and snakes near our most vulnerable parts. Or maybe, it’s winter time and those creatures are no longer around. Then our fear is of sticking to the seat or even… heaven forbid… frostbite (yikes!).

Thank goodness for indoor plumbing.

I can say though that a privy adds to the aesthetics of a rustic cabin, one expects to see one nearby. And with one close at hand, the site feels complete.

Another advantage of having a privy, and other outbuildings for that matter, besides their usefulness and visual attributes, is that by visiting them we often pause to take in the view back towards the cabin, which always gives us a greater appreciation for what we have.

I believe the two greatest possessions we have in this life is love, and a spirit of thankfulness. If you have a place like this, you can’t help but be overwhelmingly thankful.

Next up, to wrap up this little series… A final pair of professional photos, taken by Cindi Theide for her book, Hands-on Log Homes… one, of the little primitive kitchen in this cabin, and another, of the log outbuilding. As always, thank you for time.

Noah

Originally posted 2015-02-19 16:58:05.

A proper chimney and good chinking are both vital ingredients in order for a log cabin to survive the coming centuries.

As you approach this special place, walking down the well-worn footpath, and as you first catch a glimpse of this log cabin, you will find that the stone chimney is the first thing to great you, letting you know that you have arrived. A chimney is a symbol of warmth and security, and a signal to those arriving that this is a place of old world craftsmanship. Welcome home.

Notice in the second photo how the chimney was built to appear dry laid… that is, with no mortar as it would have been many years ago. Cement mortar was used throughout the chimney when we built it though, for safety and strength, but if there was some kind of magical ray gun that could dissolve mortar, this chimney would still stand after being blasted. You will find no glued on stone here.

It takes a lot of effort and skill to build a chimney this fine. I’ve had many people over the years tell me ” I REALLY like your cabins, but I just can’t figure out why they are so special in comparison to others. This is one of those secrets.

I would think the greatest number of “work requests” that I have gotten over the years has been for help with chinking done incorrectly by others. So few get it right, and done wrong nothing will rot out a cabin faster.

Notice also that on the inside of the house how we did not chink the logs between the main cabin room and the kitchen addition. We did that to a) honor the original un-chinked barn in which these logs came from, and b) to allow for light, air, and conversation, to pass easily between the two rooms.

Next up… the outbuildings, including the privy! and then a final photo of the little primitive kitchen. As always, thank you for visiting handmandehouses!. 🙂

Noah

Originally posted 2015-02-19 15:27:18.

That’s sounds like a crazy question doesn’t it? But, I think it’s worthy of exploring.

We can all easily visualize what a log cabin looks like, a mental picture immediately comes to mind of a home in the mountains, complete with smoke curling out the top of the chimney… but, I think it’s an important exercise to seek out a clear definition of exactly what is… a log cabin.
Over the years I’ve seen far too many homes claim to be log cabins, but they simply are not what they claim to be. Imposters they are, structures which don’t even meet the most basic of requirements to earn that label.
First let me say that I’m not one of those people who are fixated on whether there is a difference between a log home and a log cabin… they mean the same thing to me. I find that arguing over this point is the same as correcting someone over how they pronounce “wainscoting”… we all know what we are talking about.
Now back on topic, if I look up the definition of “log cabin” I find this…
“A log cabin is a house built from logs.”
Now that is a pretty straight forward answer, isn’t it? And I couldn’t agree with it any more than I do. Perhaps, I would expand the definition a bit and come up with…
“A log cabin is a house built from logs, in which the logs are laid horizontally and notched in the corners.“
I feel that if a home is built with logs that run vertically that the structure is either a fort, or a timber-frame. And even more strongly, I feel that a log cabin without notches in the corners to hold the cabin together, it’s just a pile of poles, even if the logs are spiked together. I look to historic precedence… I challenge anyone to find me just one log cabin that was assembled without some kind of notch in the corners… from the beginning of time up until the late 20th century when cabins started to be “manufactured”.
So, we know what a log cabin is… it’s made up of logs… and what is a log?
The definition I find of a log is…
“A length of a tree trunk ready for sawing and over six feet long” .
Again, a simple straight forward definition that I agree with. It’s hard to argue with a dictionary, isn’t it?
So, if you want a log you simply cut down a tree and cut off the branches (if there are any) and presto!… you have a log. You are now ready to build a log cabin.
The method is different by region… if you live west of the Mississippi River likely you will make your log cabin out of these round logs just like they come out of the forest (many will go ahead and remove the bark). If you live east of the Mississippi River then you will likely hew the log with an axe on two sides, the inside and outside faces.
But if instead, you send the log to a sawmill you will either get timbers out of it, or dimensional lumber. You will not get your log back. The log is gone. You cannot make a log out of lumber any more than you can make an apple out of an apple pie.
I don’t care if it’s a 2”by4” or a 10”by20” timber, if it is a sawn piece of wood it is no longer a log. If it is then shaped round it does not magically become a log again. If someone runs a roto-tiller over it does not become a hewn log (I’ve seen it done).
So, if someone builds a cabin out of stacked sawn timbers, whether rounded, milled, or heaven forbid, roto-tilled, they do not have a log cabin. I don’t know what it should be called… maybe “a cabin”? Or, a “timbered cabin”? Or, a maybe…“wood cabin”? And that’s not a bad thing… it’s just not a log cabin, or a log home.
Historians, log cabin artisans, and people knowledgeable in log cabin construction, all cringe at the sawn products of manufactures when they claim they produce log cabins. Don’t be fooled by their propaganda. Know what you are buying.
I like vintage cabins the best, but there are plenty of fine new cabins out there too… just be careful and don’t be fooled by an imposter.
Heck, even Log Cabin syrup no longer contains real maple syrup… it’s now flavored corn syrup. Yuck. I’ll take the real thing, thank you.

Originally posted 2015-02-18 21:58:45.

It’s a funny thing, but I have found that people that like log cabins, absolutely love front porches.

I’ve had a couple of clients over the years that I truly believe that the real reason they hired me was to build them a front porch, and that the log cabin was just something to have behind the rocking chair to catch them if they leaned too far back.

This precious little porch on the front of this log cabin only measures eight feet by sixteen feet but it is highly valued territory. The flooring and roof are all framed out of rough sawn oak that I purchased from a local sawmill. I have found that it holds up over time amazingly well, and it only becomes more attractive as it ages. (I wish that were true of men… lol) (my wife hasn’t aged a day since I met her)

I like porches that are supported by stone columns underneath, it allows the dog to have a cool space to retreat to in the summer (and provides a place to stash the lawnmower if you can get away with it). The porch posts are all small locust trees that we gathered from the property (the only thing that will outlast these locust poles is a rock).

This charming porch just invites people to come and sit for a while, to take in the fresh air, perhaps share a few words, or just sit in quiet meditation.

Next up… the chimney.

Originally posted 2015-02-18 17:14:50.

Normally on a small log cabin like this I would put an addition off of the back of the structure to provide a small kitchen and bath. An addition off of the back would have had a simple, inexpensive, lean-to roof on it. Lean-to additions were very common and attractive features of many vintage cabins.

We didn’t have that option here on this steeply pitched site. Level land was a luxury and so the cabin profile had to be kept lean and long. It was a bit more challenging to do this, but I think it worked out well.

There is no bath in this retreat cabin (privy photo coming soon!) but we did make one very nice primitive kitchen. A nearby bountiful spring provides all the water needed for drinking, cooking, and washing.

This kitchen addition is stick-built using new lumber and is sided over with cedar and topped off with a copper roof. Inside we used old flooring, painted wood walls, and old beams to frame out the roof trusses.

Next up… the front porch.

Originally posted 2015-02-18 16:19:31.

So, now it’s time to set the logs.

It’s the fun time of the project. Everybody is happy. Smiles all around.

Many years ago now, I had my first opportunity to re-build a vintage cabin. When we finished that log home I realized that I was hooked, that I had found my calling, and that I had to do it again, and again, and again. Be forewarned, it is a gateway addiction… I got hooked on log cabins and before I knew it I was on to timber-frames, stonework, silos, and barns!

This rustic retreat was probably about my twentieth log cabin. And, one of my favorites. Don’t get me wrong I’ve loved them all, but there is something special about the small cabins, everyone feels it, everyone knows that they could take on project like this one. It does not overwhelm. It fits, like an old shoe or a favorite jacket.

There is something magical about the laying of the first log. It has begun. But, that precious moment doesn’t last long, after all, a log cabin is soon to be revealed. The compulsion to grab the next log and set it in place is strong. We move on. This is likely the only “first log” photo I ever managed to take over the years.

As the carpenters work on the cabin, the masons work on the foundation of the small kitchen addition, as seen in the next photo.

It’s always a juggling act to keep each team working on something without being in each others way. That’s Dan on the left in the photo, the finest stone mason I have ever met. Cancer took him a few years ago (I hate that disease). And then there are the two Ed’s… the one on the left has remained a lifelong friend, the other went on to become a doctor in the local ER and has pulled splinters out of two of my guys since. How ironic is that?

The next photo is of my young daughter inspecting the workmanship of the cabin and stonework. I tended to bring my children along with me often, particularly on weekends. While I enjoyed the time of solitude to carefully reflect… “am I making this cabin as good as I can?”. The children would look for treasures, or turtles (I guess they are the same thing to a child).

One of the greatest secrets I can reveal to someone about building an exceptional house is to make sure and walk out away from the project and take in the whole picture as the project proceeds. Don’t miss out on something important by focusing exclusively on the minute details.

The final photo is of the cabin logs, all in place, and the roof being framed. I’ve never been a fan of roof trusses… I know, they are “engineered” to bear the loads, but I prefer the meatiness of real lumber.

Notice also the seasonal view that we enjoyed through the trees. It’s not only what is built, but where it’s built.

Coming up next in Part 4… the kitchen addition

Originally posted 2015-02-17 15:56:52.

The next step in building this cabin was the gathering of the stone and laying it.

This site was blessed with an abundance of “easy to get” native stone. Some stones were just a few feet away from where they would be laid by us, eager to be picked up. But the bulk of the stone came from nearby ancient “stone streams” found weaving their way through the property’s trees. These weren’t like the refined stone fences of northern Va and on up into New England, but rather were just informal lines of stones that were thrown to the edge of fields that no longer existed, by farmers, who have long since past away.

Originally posted 2015-02-16 22:47:57.