Back at the cabin we pulled and folded the flooded tarp to let the deck air out. When you're building outdoors there's no getting around the weather. Emil said the problem with reality is it's too real. Might even be where they got the word. When it rains, things get wet and when you eat, well, you get the idea.
All in all it'd been a good day. So good we decided to set future Sundays apart. Only do the things we liked to do. Since we liked to work on the cabin, we worked on the cabin. Guess it isn't work if you're having a good time. Yeah, I know that's been said a thousand times but it's true, except for the times you cut yourself with a utility knife or fall off a rafter.
"Archie me lad, seeing as how it's only three-thirty, what would suit your fancy?"
"Tell you what Uncle Emil, if you're up for it let's see if we can throw on a few more sheets of plywood. I'm about fished out for the moment and there's nothing I'd like better than to drive a few nails."
So that's what we did 'til it was time to slap a few cold sandwiches together and call it supper. Monday was more of the same. Nothing fancy, just work. Some sheets we nailed in place before sawing out a window or door. Others I'd hold in place while Emil traced the opening then cut them on the saw horses. Between times or while I was sawing, Emil would stare off into the trees. What he called envisioning. I asked what he was seeing,
"Beams and posts. I know how they should look, how they should be made, how they'll fit together on paper. What I'm trying to figure out is if it all makes sense. Can it be done? Will it do what it's supposed to do? And mostly how we're going to hoist a monstrosity of a beam into place, eight feet off the floor without killing ourselves. It'll be an unknown 'til we give her a go and unknowns can go any number of ways. Might be a case of me over-thinking something simple. Might turn out to be impossible and we'll have to come up with a plan B. Don't know which but we'll sure find out."
Late in the afternoon the last of our homegrown lumber rumbled up the driveway. Ted wasn't at the wheel this time. Instead it was one of the Berglands. "Wasn't doing anything special so dad shagged me up here figuring you might need the wood."
Arne looked about my age. Struck and embarrassed me I didn't yet have a driver's license and this kid was driving a straight truck. Guess young men in the country grew up faster. Thank God I was dirty and wearing a tool belt. Didn't want to look like a city boy in the land of men. Emil thanked him for the delivery. We burned twenty minutes offloading with me trying my best to make the painful look like no sweat. Bore down so hard when we moved the tamarack post I nearly cracked a tooth. Smiling in the face of misery's no simple chore.
Emil cracked open three bottles of pop and gave Arne the tour. "Ted told me you had something special going on up here. Looks more like a box at the moment but throw on what you call your lookout and it should be interesting. My old man says we might get the whole mill up here to check it out when you're done. Also told me to tell you your windows should be in by the end of the week. Near a half truck load. Mr. Schonnemann, that is a lot of glass." With a best of luck, Arne was off and running.
Tuesday morning we eased ourselves through breakfast. Putzed so much the sun was up by the time we finished dishes.
"Grab a cup of coffee Archie and come follow me." We headed east along the brook and cut inland a few yards. Once beneath the spreading arms of the Sentinels we sat down, our backs to the trunk nearest the water.
"Figured since we're going to plant the tamarack log in the cabin today it might be a good idea to sit here and finish our coffee. Don't ask me why, just seems right. Besides, this is an important step in the construction. No need to hurry it."
Through a break in the brush we watched a doe and pair of fawns descend the far bank. Mom seemed intent on drinking. The fawns had other ideas and bounded around like they were auditioning for roles as Bambi stand-ins. Finally they got the idea, two hoofs in the flow and drank like there was no tomorrow. Must have been a drift of our scent that set mama's ears all atwitter. Looked around, then all but kicked her kids' little butts to come follow her back to cover. Seemed to me deer in the northwoods had it rough. If hunters or wolves didn't get them, the herby-jeebies surely would.
Emil flipped his dregs and rose. "Good show. May as well get to it." We wandered back. "Shouldn't take more than an hour to polish off the last two sheets of plywood, then we'll start in on some prep-work I've been considering."
After finishing the sheathing Emil sent me to the pile to gather framing for three, heavy duty saw horses, "The beam we're set to build will top two hundred pounds easy. There's no way we can lift something that heavy over our heads while standing on tippy-toes. Hopefully a three foot high platform will do the trick."
When we sat down to lunch the horses were finished and we'd had started on the beam. And it was a beast. Triple two by eight thick, thirty-two feet long. About a hundred, thirty penny nails tied it together. Each nail just long enough to pierce and join all three timbers without popping all the way through. We worked with one pound hammers and driving those spikes was a challenge. I'd get one started then whack it for all I was worth. Gripped the hammer two fingers over the end, reached for the sky and came down with a killing blow. Good thing they didn't bend easy. Twelve hits to get one set was my best.
Emil spent near as much time eyeballing the beam against the line he'd snapped on the floor as he did there nailing. "This beam is critical. Has to be perfect. Could be I said that about the posts, or maybe the floor joists, could have been the concrete mix, or even the muffins we made last Tuesday. Forget all those, they didn't really mean squat. This one is in another league. One slip and it could be the end of life as we know it on the planet."
Lunch never lasted more than forty-five minutes. We rarely cooked the noon meal. It was calories and liquid, as much of each as we could get down. Maybe a dash to the cat hole at meal's end. By now we were on our third drop zone. No matter how foul it might be to us, many a forest dweller appeared to find sustenance there. Seemed the creatures of the night appreciated the nutritional value of our leavings even when covered by a few shovel's full of dirt. Retrieving scattered butt wipe was one of the less desirable aspects of woods life. But both of us did it. Emil liked a clean camp and I couldn't fault him for it. 'Bout the only thing we left ungathered was sawdust. Sooner or later it'd turn to soil.
The tree awaited. While we uncovered, Emil began to speak but I cut him off. Set off on a tangent of my own, "Archie me lad, this here's one special tree. God grew it for me from a shaving off the true cross. St. Helena came to me in a dream and said I should build her a church in the woods of northern Minnesota. Erect it on a spot so far off the beaten path no one in their right mind would ever come to worship. While you're at it, get some near useless teen-ager to come help you build as you're gettin' on in years. Don't much care how you throw the thing together so long as you take extra special care to get that chunk of tamarack perfectly centered and as plumb as a bob. You good with that Emil? By the way, leave a few branch stubs so you can hang the Shroud of Grand Marais. Of course the Shroud's another story. I've already reserved a dream slot with the Big Guy for next October. See you then."
Emil gave me a sheepish grin, "Didn't know I sounded that good. Guess I better stop holding back. That thing about the Shroud has me intrigued. There's some potential there."
Gut splitter. Nearly blew my kneecaps off lifting the beast. Couldn't begin to imagine what it must have felt like to a fifty-nine year old body. Two hundred, three hundred pounds? Felt more like we were carrying a Volkswagen. Shoulders were separating, spines crushing and we left a track of footprints deep enough to stand the test of time - 'and along here children we've unearthed evidence of an ancient civilization. From the depth of the impressions the primitive humans of the late second millennium must have been giants weighing at least four hundred pounds.' Would have said that aloud had I the energy.
I set the butt end of the log on the folded tarp Emil'd laid in the doorway to protect his baby and immediately trotted to Emil's end. Slowly we inched the tree toward the center of the deck 'til it was fully rested within.
"Thank God for the pain Archie. At least I know I didn't die. Damnation that was heavy. What say we stretch our bones for a minute?"
Emil's idea of a minute consisted of climbing onto the deck and doing a couple of neck rolls. Crazy old man for sure. Then it was squat, lift and slide. Finally we raised the trunk on Emil's centered X like we were Marines on Iwo Jima. Should of had Ted along to see if we were doing it right.
"For now we'll block it in place. The finish work will come when the floor gets laid."
The rest of the afternoon was spent building eight, twelve foot long, double two by eights. They were to carry the floor joists of the lookout. Also would do double duty by tying together the front and back walls. Emil figured the cabin could fall apart any number of ways. Our job was to limit the possibilities. Seen from above, the cabin would be a rectangle split in two lengthwise by the big beam and crosswise in six by the shorter beams. Kind of a double-cross. The weight of the lookout would be carried by the outer walls on the ends of the beams and the tree in the middle. At least that's how he explained it to me. By four we were done for the day. Oof dah, barely eight and a half hours of physical labor. Hardly worth getting out of the sack.
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