Cohabitation

In the process of clearing away some of the trees right next to the old log cabin, we generated quite a few tree branches that needed to be burned. We took advantage of the wet weather and decided to have a burn pile.

Despite the fact that the burn pile was quite a distance from anything else that could burn, and despite the fact that it had rained on and off for a couple of days, we still were very careful to keep the fire under control.

About 10 PM last night, I ventured outside to check it out to make sure it was settling down for the night so we could do the same. Once I could see the orange of the smoldering flame, I stopped and turned off my headlamp to enjoy the scene. Shortly after doing so I heard something. Thunder? I wondered. No couldn’t be that. Then I heard it again. A very low sound, just like a…… bear! Quickly, I turned and headed for the house, not waiting to confirm or deny my suspicions.

I cannot say for certain it was a bear, but nor can I think of a better explanation. If it was a bear, it was obvious he was giving me a firm but polite warning, and a reminder that we don’t live out in the wilderness alone.

The Log Cabin

When we first saw this piece of property one of the things that drew us to it was an ancient log cabin that sat by the road. Shortly after buying the property we began to rehabilitate the cabin and as a result, numerous neighbors in the valley stopped by to see what was going on. Most were concern that we might be tearing it down. All were relieved to find out we were not. But in those conversations we learned more about the cabin and its history, notably that it is the oldest building in this valley. Our love for the cabin grew greater.

Two years ago we had a heavy snow year and unfortunately the roof of the log cabin collapsed. I had thought about just using a pre-fab truss frame to replace the roof, but have since been inspired to rebuild the roof using more traditional methods. Since making this decision, I have been researching and planning the project.

Today was the first day, and we made good progress.

The past two winters we have had a giant tarp on top of the flat floor of the loft of the cabin, but it has been of marginal benefit. Everything inside was damp and moldy if not falling apart.

Here are a few pictures of the progress we made to today, with a couple of before and a couple of after pictures.

Dog Sled Races

Some pictures of a local dog sled race recently:

The Duncans Return

On February 21, Bob and Bobby Duncan came to Glencanaan for a visit. Bob's wife unfortunately could not make it. The visit was non-stop story-telling for all parties involved.

For several hours we talked about the history of the area, past: distant past, and recent past.

Much of what we had heard about the property from others in the valley was confirmed by Bob: the Duncans came to this area -- what they called the Lake Wenatchee Ranch -- just before the turn of the previous century (likely around 1887); the log cabin was built by Bob's grandfather (Alec), likely shortly after their arrival; they grew hay and chickens and strawberries.

But we learned many new things: They didn't homestead this place, they bought it, meaning that white people settled here before the Duncans, thus it has been habitated by white people for well over 120 years; and they also grew lots of rutabaga (and had a local reputation for them that drew people from some distance). There are even some secrets about this area!

Bob brought some pictures which we scanned. They will come again (hopefully soon) so we can hear more stories and scan even more pictures!

Exciting News!

One of the things that has enamored us to Glencanaan all along is that it is rich in history; we just didn't know much about its history.

A few years back we were driving to Glencanaan and we stopped at the rest stop just west of Cole's Corner. They one of those groups offering free coffee and we got into a conversation with one of the volunteers and she asked where we were from and we explained our dual residencies, including our place just north of there. She asked for a more precise description of where our place was, and after we told her, she said, "Oh, the Duncan place." Unfortunately, we didn't get her name or phone number, nor did we write down the name "Duncan." Ever since then, we have kicked ourselves for not writing this down, and we became even more interested in learning about the history of Glencanaan.

In January we went to a fund raiser for the Wenatchee Valley Museum. It was a wine gala and featured 14 local wineries. The time schedules for its end was approaching and we realized we had not visited one of the wineries, one right in Leavenworth, so we dashed to their table.

We had a nice conversation with the wine-maker, and somehow he mentioned having lived in Indonesia. I asked a few questions about his stay in Indonesia which made it clear to him that I had more than the usual familiarity with Indonesia, so I explained that I had been there many times, most recently just a couple of months ago. He was thrilled and said we must met his father because he was served in the US military and was stationed in Jakarta for a couple of years.

His father, owner of the winery, soon joined us at the table and introductions were made. We talked about Indonesia for a few minutes, then he asked where we lived. We again explained our dual residencies, and when we told him we were near Lake Wenatchee he asked where. "On the White River Road. Do you know it?"

"I do. I used to live up there." Then he went on to talk about Sears Creek.

I asked where he had lived; was it up past Sears Creek? No, he clarified, it was before that.

"Where?" I probed.

"Up past the McComas', there is a meadow on the left.

"That's ours now!" I interrupted.

He look shocked, and I held out my hand and shook his.

We spent some time comparing stories, then pledged to get together sometime soon so he could come see his old home, share stories and share pictures.

When we do, I will be sure to post what we find out here.