We needed to be across the island earlier this week and opted to stay overnight in a tiny house. I’ve been fascinated by tiny homes for years, and have spent many a happy hour poring over design details and reading stories of folks living in small dwellings.
Our temporary residence was very well put together, and included a kitchen, bathroom, living room and bedroom squeezed into a tiny footprint. My question has always been “but could a person (or two adults and a dog) really live in such a small space?”
With housing costs rocketing, some demand could be met by smaller and more affordable housing. I think this is to be encouraged, although it seems tough on younger generations that these are the only options when earlier generations had a wider choice. Most start small, but there’s small and then there’s small. Although I might have jumped at the chance! An invisible first world problem perhaps, but it’s there…
Enough of the furrowed brow stuff. This isn’t meant to be a piece about solving the housing crisis, but I will say if more jurisdictions gave permission for tiny houses to be built, they could be one piece of a housing puzzle solution…
I said enough of that! Setting all the debate stuff aside, we really enjoyed staying in a small home, and I also enjoyed fantasizing that yes, I could live like this all the time. (Especially if we had maybe one more room, and perhaps just a touch more storage?!) Oops, tiny house fail for that man…
The entrance into the home site had a large white lilac growing beside and over the gate – what a perfume – so our morning coffee on the small deck was caffeine and lilac flavoured, making for a bright and strong start!
Must leave it here, as I’m pretty sure I’ve got some tiny house plans and costings stashed away… Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a wonderful weekend!
Last weekend, we were holed up in a Yoho cabin. Not as fugitives – it was too late for that. The long reach of bacteria had caught up with us and we were suffering from students being overly generous with germs. This is a brief post, scribbled as I quietly recuperate…(He’s fine, it was nothing more than a cold – Mrs. PC)
Not being one to complain, I stoically sniffled and snuffled all through the weekend, bravely depleting the cabin stock of tissues. As I dealt, quite heroically, with my mysterious malady (it was a cold – Mrs. PC), Mrs. PlaidCamper quietly put me to shame by dealing with her far worse cold, um, quietly.
Instead of getting out and about, we had to settle (quite happily) for gazing out of the windows into the woods, or at the falling snow, or at the misty mountains. Those of us that could see the mountains through watery eyes…(He had a cold – Mrs. PC)
Honestly, if you’ve read this far, thank you! If you’ve checked out already, I understand. I’m not one to complain.
Eventually, using my iron will and enormous amounts of determination, I agreed with Mrs PlaidCamper that a gentle stroll around the town might – just – be manageable. (It was – just – a cold – Mrs PC)
We tottered through the tiny town, enjoying a break in the weather, the views, the clean air, and gingerly negotiating icy sidewalks. It looked like I was clinging to Mrs. PlaidCamper for support, but I was simply offering an arm. (??! – Mrs. PC)
With temperatures hereabouts bouncing up and down, it is hard to say if spring is really just around the corner, or if winter is going to cling on a little longer. Having courageously survived this medical mystery, this illness as yet unknown to science (a cold – Mrs. PC), I am hoping for a few more weeks of snowy fun, perhaps another month or two, before conceding that spring is here. You can be sure, either way, that I won’t be complaining about it.
Anyway, a short post this week (I don’t want to go on about it, but I haven’t been well), thanks for reading, I hope you are well, and have a wonderful weekend!
All photographs this week were taken from the cabin or on our short walk around Field, BC. How I managed to carry the camera, lift it, get it in (almost) focus, and battle my ailments…(Only a cold, nothing more – Mrs. PC)
Calm colours to enjoy during a frantic period of time. The past five days seemed rather long…almost without end…an endurance trial…(alright, so I’m exaggerating!)
A very short post this week – if this got published and you’re reading it, I must have somehow made it to the end of term! Most of the time I enjoy my job and the students I teach, but the final week before winter break has never been in my top ten of fun times. If you are lucky enough to be involved in education, then you understand. If you don’t, trust me, for this week only, you’re lucky enough not to be involved in education!
Our plan to prepare for the week was to spend last weekend in Yoho, chilling in a little cabin and taking a hike around beautiful Emerald Lake. Yes, again, and why not?! It’s different every time, and last week was no exception. The temperature climbed to a reasonable -12C, and that was good enough to layer up and get out.
The freshest air, the squeaky snow underfoot, the astonishing silence when we stood still, and the silver, blue and grey of the landscapes all combined to make a memorable hike. It was just enough to keep an old PlaidCamper mentally charged and ready to face the week. Phew! Thank you, Emerald Lake. Natural magic, and we might have to head back out there soon…
Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a wonderful weekend – if you’re lucky enough to be in education, isn’t this Saturday one of the best?! Enjoy it!
A brief post (something readers might be thankful for) to acknowledge Canadian Thanksgiving this coming Monday.
We’ve lived up in the True North for almost a decade, and we’re constantly thankful for the experience. As a nation, like other places, it isn’t perfect (many terrible mistakes have been made, particularly in relation to indigenous groups), but there is a sense of striving for a society that is working towards inclusivity and acceptance towards all – inside and outside the borders. It is, generally, a welcoming country, with many citizens who are prepared to live and let live, and where every day life for most people carries on without too much drama. Again, not perfect, and not for many northern communities, but (painfully small and slow) steps are being taken to right some of the past wrongs.
For me, the real drama is found in the landscapes of this great country. Personally, we have barely uncovered the tip of the wilderness iceberg here in western Canada, and beyond that there is so much more to discover from coast to coast to coast! Like the real icebergs and the true True North. Thousands of lakes large and small, tiny creeks and rushing rivers, more mountains (oh yes!), almost endless prairie, and an expanse of boreal and coastal forest to lose oneself in.
I know, I know, we’ll never get close to exploring all that there is, but it’s fun to think that we’ll try anyway. It’s the pull of the north (and the east, and the west) and a need to see for yourself and attempt to comprehend the nature of Canada. Impossible! Folly! But so alluring…
Fingers crossed, touch wood, and we’re hoping to celebrate a few more decades here, and be able to look back at travels all across this wonderful land.
The people we know, the place we live, where we’ve come from, and where we are going – so much to be thankful for!
Thanks for reading, happy Thanksgiving, and have a wonderful weekend!
Reading a book about firewood whilst sitting by a wood stove is a pleasant way to spend an hour or two. Especially when you are feeling sorry for yourself (I was) because some lovely student was overly generous with their germs. Fortunately for Mrs PlaidCamper, I suffered in stoic silence. Not true, I was simply engaged in the book she gave me, and it has certainly confirmed my almost outdoorsman status. Still so much to learn!
If you can get hold of a copy, you might like to read “Norwegian Wood – chopping, stacking, and drying wood the Scandinavian way” by Lars Mytting. I know, sounds a bit nerdy, yet this slim volume is quite wonderful, and strangely heartfelt, given the title. The approach is sometimes scientific, sometimes mathematical, but the overall effect is lyrical and philosophical. Apparently, the book has been a bit of a hit, striking a chord – a cord? – with a wide audience. Could it be that some are crying out for a simpler life? Maybe. It kept me quiet for a while.
To the book. Until relatively recently, almost all humans have warmed themselves with fire, and the primary fuel was wood. This necessitated a set of skills and knowledge fundamentally attached to being outdoors. In many places, the need for these skills has diminished in the last 60 years, with the development of other heating and energy sources. Perhaps more of us need to rediscover the skills and possibilities of wood for a fuel. Mytting’s book explores our changing relationship with firewood through pictures, poetry, history, and anecdotes that delight and engage. (If you don’t have a tear in your eye after finishing old Ottar’s story – his woodpile tale bookends it all – I’d be amazed, and you’d be cold…)
Mytting details how wood grown for heating can be one part of a national energy plan. It isn’t a magic bullet, but he is persuasive on how burning wood is comparatively environmentally friendly. Modern stoves are very efficient, and there are regions where wood growth supply can outstrip demand. It can’t work everywhere, but the ideas are intriguing. Large (or small) scale tree farms seem preferable to large scale power stations, nuclear plants, hydroelectric projects, and all the associated infrastructure required to deliver the energy. It’s not romantic or beautiful like an old growth forest, but it is clean. And no, I’m not advocating mass logging/deforestation to heat our homes.
The book isn’t all about national energy policy and planning, although the ideas presented are thought-provoking. Much of the book is more personal in nature. There’s an amusing foreword detailing the various types of wood chopper. Are you the stoic type? The neurotic hoarder? The poet? The standard bungler? How about desperado, melancholic or psychopath? If you’ve ever had to chop wood then you know there’s a little of each in all of us. Or if you’re me, quite a bit of the bungler.
When we lived in the western Perigord, the downstairs of our house was heated by two wood burning stoves, one in the kitchen, and one in the living room. In winter, we’d live in the kitchen most of the day, let the stove burn low, and then dash to the front room for the evening. Those stoves were efficient! If only I’d been as efficient.
The first autumn/winter, I enjoyed stacking the delivered firewood and chain sawing and chopping through the colder months. Manly work! Wielding dangerous equipment with purpose, skill, and aplomb. Or so I thought in my happier moments. The truth was, the novelty wore off by the end of each winter, and the enthusiasm didn’t really return with the next wood delivery the following September. I quite enjoyed the sense of purpose and productivity, but sometimes it seemed endless.
Having a ton of logs dropped onto your front yard on a sweltering September day isn’t too bad. Not when your Dad and brother are visiting, and likely to help shift and stack it. Except they suddenly developed all manner of ailments and a pressing need to prop up the local bar…hmm. I know, firewood is great. It warms you three times – chopping, stacking and burning. My planning (and help) was all wrong!
Having read Mytting, I know now that I should have received the delivery in spring, and then split and stacked the wood to get it dry over the summer – in artfully and scientifically arranged woodpiles (you’ll admire the many photographs of woodpiles Mytting has included. No, really, you will!) I honestly hadn’t given much thought to storing the wood. I was pleased enough to have arranged to get any at all given my terrible schoolboy French. Still, once you have it, all firewood burns the same, doesn’t it? Wrong again, PlaidCamper. See Mytting. I was the bungler, making mistakes that would get a seasoned Scandinavian feller hot under the collar. Although I have to say my homemade sawhorse was a thing of beauty – or perhaps splendid utility over beauty, but I promise you, it worked. Mind you, I never took a photograph (or patented the “design”…)
On to the hardware. If you read it, and you don’t already have them, you’ll be off looking at chain saws and axes (even if you don’t need one, or is that just me?) Axes! The names in the book are poetry: Oyo, Hultafors, Gransfors, Wetterlings, Fiskars and Vipukirves.
“Norwegian Wood” made me miss my wood chopping days. It would have been wonderful to have had some of the knowledge and skills back then. Still, as an almost outdoorsman who generally prefers to look forward, I now feel better prepared than ever, and maybe one day in the future I’ll be back in regular wood chopping action, heating a little cabin and getting it all done the Scandinavian way!
I’ll finish with a quote about the smell of a woodpile Mytting recites from Hans Borli’s “With Axe and Lyre”:
“It is as though life itself passes by, barefoot, with dew in its hair…When the veil finally starts to fall, the scent of fresh wood is among the things that will linger longest…”
Thanks for reading! Are you a chopper of wood? If so, what type are you? Please feel free to share a story or leave a comment, and keep your guy ropes secure.
…cabin! I know, last week it was teddy bear cholla, this week, Little Bear cabin, so next week? Goldilocks?
It won’t be about bears, real or otherwise, I promise. But back to this week! Little Bear cabin is where we stayed recently on the return leg of our road trip. Just outside Bozeman, Montana, this cabin has to be about the most perfect cabin imaginable. Or at least, in my imagination. Original, yet in a good state of repair? Yup! Isolated, but not too hard to get to? Certainly! Wonderful views on all sides? Definitely! Less than $35 a night to rent it? Unbelievably, yes!
For less than many a campground fee, you can stay in a pretty as a picture cabin. Keep warm by the fire pit in decent evening weather, or remain warm by the wood stove inside during less friendly weather. Does it have modern conveniences like indoor plumbing and wifi? Nope! But if you’re ok with an outhouse, and can make do with a solar shower, and don’t mind your beer being a little warmer towards the end of your stay, then you’ll do just fine up at Little Bear. When we got back, I sent my brother a couple of pictures, and an invite to join us next time. I do understand that places like these aren’t for everybody…
If you’re more like my brother, you might find it a struggle. His definition of outdoors is being more than 30 minutes from pizza delivery, and he’d prefer his bathrooms to be attached to the main building. And for the building to have more than one room, and appliances that require a remote. (I’ve tried several times to get him along on a camping trip, but to no avail. I’d even let him bring a remote or two as a comforter, so he can adjust gently…)
To be fair, he did join me for a few nights in a cabin some years back. We were visiting another brother in WV, and I may have oversold how comfortable the cabin was. It did have an indoor bathroom and a rudimentary kitchen – with a real fridge. Luxury! But I might have skipped over the heat, humidity, bugs and mice part. He was flying in from the UK, so the look on his face when he arrived was priceless. As was the squealing and shoe throwing and interesting vocabulary throughout that first night when he confronted the mouse. And the second night. And third. Happy memories…He’s a really good sport, but has a long memory, and, as brothers should, he holds a grudge. So camping likely won’t be happening any time soon, or a trip to Little Bear. Oh well!
We weren’t plagued by mice, the bug count was low, and the beer remained tolerably cool. The days drifted by delightfully – daydreaming, have a beer, reading, have a beer, writing, have a beer, dozing, and daydreaming some more. Maybe even have a beer. Idle and not so idle chit chat; a wonderful chance to while away some time free of any outside influences or concerns.
Thank you Little Bear – I honestly do believe that we all should have a Little Bear in our lives, with the chance to truly unwind and breathe deeply. It doesn’t have to be on top of a mountain in Montana, but if it is, well, so much the better!
Thanks for reading! As ever, please feel free to comment or share a story, and keep your guy ropes secure.
This post might seem a little off topic, but bear with me! I’ve been reading Walden and I think that I may, like many people, have been born in the wrong age…
We’ve been downsizing as far as we can recently, not because we are jumping on a particular bandwagon or vogue for small living, (although this is a good idea), but simply because the timing is right. Junior is about ready to forge her own path, heading out to be independent, and we don’t want to be living in a space that was designed to accommodate four or five people comfortably. Our empty nest can be smaller than that! We sold our family house, and we are renting a little apartment until our new little apartment has been built.
This would be fine (cedar shack in Tofino botanical gardens)
This all seems simple and straightforward enough; a linear sell one, rent one, and then buy one. Couldn’t be easier. All you need is a small mortgage from a bank, a helpful legal person to do the necessary lawyer type things, and a builder. These three can then communicate with each other, working tirelessly and seamlessly on our behalf so we can secure the tiny apartment of our dreams. And they can collect well earned fees from us…
Kerbside appeal without the kerb
I honestly cannot go into the complications experienced in trying to get these three parties all on the same page. If I had three more lifetimes ahead of me blogging to explain how frustrating the past couple weeks have been, I wouldn’t have enough time. I’d lose the will to live three times over. I’d rather have an operation than buy somewhere to live ever again.
Maybe we’ll abandon the house, just hit the road instead
Thoreau had it right! I’m going to borrow an axe and start on my own place hewn by my own hands. (I will have to borrow an axe – I do have a little hatchet, but that’s not going to cut it. I’d be lucky to build a doll house or a birdhouse, never mind a tiny house. And I’d need those three lifetimes from above). Now, as an almost outdoorsman, I’d probably chop off my own limbs instead of a tree limb, and the finished article might not look like the finished article. But still, if you’d been in my shoes, you’d understand the attraction, trust me.
Tofino bird house (with lawyer perched on the roof)
I’m lucky enough to be sitting on a deck, staying in a small cabin overlooking the inlet just outside Tofino. That means I get to calm down. This is a good thing for many obvious reasons. The less obvious reason is the one where you don’t get to hear a news story about some old guy wearing plaid running around downtown Calgary wielding a hatchet and cursing the modern home buying process:
“And the police gently disarmed the apparently harmless, yet clearly confused plaid-clad old man, leading him away from bewildered bystanders and committing him to a secure institution where further tests will be carried out to determine if he is fit to have his little hatchet back. And now the weather.”
View from the dock – just breathe, PlaidCamper, just breathe…
Just to be clear, and before anyone calls the authorities, I’m not actually going to run amok anywhere wielding any sort of hatchet – that would be silly.
All complaining aside, I do know that with a little perspective, this is simply just another invisible Western problem; I should let it go, and accept it as one of the complicated processes that make up life for the privileged few in the modern world today. An irritating downside to accompany the many upsides? I don’t know. I could stand to live in another age – when life wasn’t easier, that’s for sure, but perhaps simpler? I still say Thoreau had it right…
Head over the next mountain, just a little further…
Have you ever wanted to build your own little home, be a little more apart from the modern world? Please feel free to share a story or make a comment. Thanks for reading – I feel better now – and keep your guy ropes secure.
That’s not a mistake! Field should be capitalized – just last week we went to Field BC, located in beautiful Yoho National Park. We had a few days off so headed out to stay in a cabin overlooking the village. Whenever we visit, we know the weather will likely be changeable, particularly in spring, but the setting is always spectacular. One black and white morning, we took a little hike around and about the town.
Towering mountains flank Field on each side, and even on an overcast day, make an impressive sight. So much so, I couldn’t stop taking pictures. (I’d have been in real financial trouble in the predigital days of buying and processing camera film!)
I love how being in mountain landscapes gives me a sense of perspective – our time on the planet is so short compared to geological time – any issues or troubles can seem trivial (or at least not so much a problem) in such vast settings. Our human accomplishments and failed flailings are all put into place. We can make our mark on nature, for good or ill, yet I believe that if they could, mountains would simply look down at us, shrug indifferently at our feeble concerns, and continue to weather the real passage of time long after we’re gone. I think there’s a certain comfort in that…
The Kicking Horse River flows through the valley.
Mount Stephen looms over the town, a dizzying 10 495 feet above sea level
In just a few minutes, the mist would gather (above) and then clear (below)
In addition to the lovely mountain vistas, there are smaller sights as well. Field has a number of beautiful old buildings, and they tell interesting stories about Field’s past. Below are pictures of a couple of them.
The photo above is of the Park Superintendent’s house, completed in 1930. It is a delightful Arts and Craft style building – the original intent of the design was to impress upon viewers the importance and dignity of the Park Superintendent. Park officials were trying hard to gain recognition and respect from the hard working miners and railway men who dominated the town’s population in times past. My guess would be that then, as now, the interests of commerce, industry, and Parks conservation and management did not always align.
The little building pictured above sits at the top of the town with a commanding view over the valley. It used to be the headquarters of Field’s RCMP detachment. The story goes that a prisoner’s cell door wouldn’t actually be locked in the event of a fire burning the building and a prisoner was in the cell. Those were simpler, more trusting times! These days the building provides a home for Park workers. Pretty nice accommodation.
The final picture above, is also pretty nice accommodation – it’s where we stay when in Field! A lovely little cabin, sleeps two (very) comfortably, with amazing views out of all the windows.
I am fascinated by tiny cabins and houses – my inner hippie is fully aware that unnecessarily large dwellings are unsustainable in the long term. As a not so closeted treehugger, my hope is that one day, sooner rather than later, we catch onto this and begin to build more modest and appropriate homes. The little cabin above is a delight. The owner tells me it is not quite 600 square feet, but I find it roomy, modern and in no way Spartan on the inside. I’d happily live in something similar full time if such places were more readily available. Maybe I should build one myself…that would be an adventure!
I hope you enjoyed this little black and white tour of Field. Just a tiny taster, barely scratching the surface of the history and beauty of this small community. We always enjoy visiting, secure in the knowledge that time in Field is special, with peace and quiet virtually guaranteed – Field’s population is less than 200 lucky souls sharing a wonderful mountain town.
Have you visited Field and Yoho National Park? Do you have a favourite mountain destination? Please feel free to share your thoughts. Thanks for reading, and keep your guy ropes secure.