A log cabin adventure: they built their cabin in the woods in New York--and hauled the logs from North Carolina.

ANONYMOUS NEW YORK STATE

The dream

It was with a lot of hard work and enthusiasm that I planned to build a log cabin on the 14 acres I had bought. I planned, I cut logs, then I went flat broke and had to simply wait ... and wait some more. Finally, I had had enough. Money or not, I was going to build a cabin. And that is exactly what I did!

We bought the property on an owner-financed loan. Well, when we sat down at signing, there was this little sentence that really made for a difficult job of building a log cabin. It said pretty much: although the acreage is so tree studded a red squirrel has a difficult time walking through the woods, although we know you have plans to build a log cabin, you may not cut a single living tree for any reason at any time, or we, the loaners, have the right to yank stakes. Uh oh. After a minute of head scratching I said, "Well this is silly." If I remove, let's say, a sapling because it started growing in the middle of the driveway, I'm suddenly in default of the contract? And what about firewood? We came to the agreement that it would be acceptable to cut firewood, and to clear brush, but not to cut firewood to sell or cut the trees for cabin logs (or sell timber). Well, how would I come up with enough logs to build a cabin?

In North Carolina, 600 miles from where the cabin was to be built, I was virtually surrounded by tall and straight yellow pine trees. On my 3-1/2 acres there, there were easily enough to build a nice log cabin without putting a dent in the amount of trees on the property. However, my budget was so miserably small that trucking them to a new location was not possible. Or was it?

My first idea was to sell the entire North Carolina place off, a little higher than we had paid for it (due to the many improvements we had done to the place), and use the "profits" to build a 1,500 square foot cabin. I designed and redesigned the cabin until I had solved many problems (later discussed) of how to transport, heft and install logs in such a way that it was fairly easy while still using logs thick enough to have some degree of thermal mass. Well, reality struck.

Did you know that you pay a lot more for a house than what the price is? (I didn't.) As in, my parents helped me get into the whole mortgage/house payment thing. I borrowed $44,000 from a bank. After 30 years, I would have paid the bank an additional $100,000. Wow. I must have missed that part. At any rate, the mortgage was still in my folks' names. And they decided that I was actually renting from them, and refused to turn the loan over to me after the first year of payments (and the second, third, and fourth ...). Some of this may have been traceable to the fact that they really didn't want me to move to a "field" in New York. It's not the first time my sanity has been in serious consideration.

So, I had no money, a reasonably sized chunk of land on which to build a cabin, reasonable payments on the North Carolina "rental" and the New York acreage, and logs in the form of trees 600 miles from their "home." The first thing I did (after raising enough cash to make the 10% down payment on the New York place) was to buy a chainsaw. That cost me $89 and was the best investment ever. I lopped down the trees for the log cabin. Instead of using long logs, I cut each into six, seven, or eight-foot long logs. Then I spent the winter cutting firewood, which paid the bills for that time. An ice storm came through and I secured more logs from developed areas; in fact I was able to charge to remove snapped off pines.

By spring I had a mountain of pine logs. I peeled all of these with a broad axe, stacked them and racked them. Was I ever ready to build!

I went to New York on a business trip. My usual routine was to haul wholesale items for a shop in Rochester on a trailer. I would then fill the trailer with New York hay and return to North Carolina. The hay would sometimes cover the gas home. Well, on this early spring run, my transmission took a turn for the worse, leaving me only second gear. Since it was Easter, I would be stuck in New York for a while. I did some measuring and found out that my full-size Dodge van would actually fit inside a moving truck; provided I built a ramp to get it into the truck and removed the side mirrors. With one inch of clearance on either side, the van made it (somehow) on the second attempt. The ramp had broken on the first attempt, which was not so fun. So here I was, south bound with a local rental truck loaded with a full-sized van and a trailer full of hay. I dropped my van off, and took my wife's van to go get a used transmission. I had the luck of having a rather unique four-speed overdrive manual transmission and had to drive six hours one way to get another one--during which time my wife's van's engine blew. I babied the oil--slurping time bomb all the way back, lugging a transmission and spare engine. Turns out that the head gasket had blown in four separate places, two pistons had holes clean through them, and four spark plugs had bent over (due to a piece of piston which was firing through the intake passages and which eventually rocketed down into the exhaust system). Nineteen quarts of oil later, I was back in the rental truck headed north with more pine logs than you could shake a stick at. I arrived at 6:00 a.m., I dumped the logs, and filled the rental truck to the gills with hay. Another jaunt to North Carolina left me loaded with more logs and a buddy's car (which we somehow perched on the logs) and on the final leg to New York. Flat broke, I returned to North Carolina. The logs were there. I somehow thought that was the biggest challenge.

My business soon went under. I started another business on $5 (I taught myself to be a sculptor). That "business" took awhile to take off. The first entire year I grossed a whopping $5,000. With $4,800 in land and house payments alone, my wife's income was all we really survived on, and she wasn't making much.

I traded sculptures for many things during the first and second years of that business. I eventually came up with all the new (odd sizes) windows, doors (in fact extra ones), chimney pipe, floorboards, tub, sinks, roofing tin, cabinets, spikes, and many other log cabin building necessities. This still left me needing to buy all the structural lumber, mortar, caulking, and insulation for the cabin. While none of this was a huge sum of money, it was still money I was hard pressed to come up with. My son Samuel was born during this time, three months premature. He spent four solid months in a far-off hospital. Thankfully, he recovered from all of his many exciting (?) tightrope walks with death and is now a normal two-year-old. Yes, I may have grown a few gray hairs, too.

Finally in the summer of 2004, it was time to get started. I hand-dug all of the foundation post holes (16" x 16", 48 inches deep, 24 total). I then began my phone calling campaign to the building code inspector. I called dozens of times. Each time his wife would answer. I would leave a message to please have the man get in touch with me. Eventually the angry sounding woman would simply hang up on me as soon as I was identified as the caller. Finally, the inspector and I did get together. Only he was out to run me off--I was selling sculptures on the side of the road in town, and that was not permitted. By the summer of 2005, I was out of patience.

I decided to relocate the cabin's site. Out of sight, out of mind. I relocated it an additional 300 feet back on the property--800 feet from the road. With that distance from the road, the cabin is a full 200 feet higher than the road due to the hills. My little old Dodge van (the manual transmission was scrapped in favor of a bullet proof 727 automatic) hauled all the logs up the "mountain" to within about 200 feet 'from the cabin. The van also hauled everything else up there, too. With 800,000 miles on the old gal, I would like to take a moment to thank the designers and builders of the 1970s Dodge vans. Man, what a tough bugger.

With a new building site picked out, I then redesigned the cabin, to make it more economical to build and to use the materials I had gathered instead of buying outright. Instead of the originally planned 24 x 32 feet, the very sloped site and the very limited budget said I had better "build smaller" and expand when money permitted! With the exclusion of the originally planned indoor plumbing, the floor plan was trimmed to 14-1/2 x 24 feet, with two lofts upstairs. (Better to have it built and smallish than unbuilt and large!)

It took only a few months of working occasionally on the cabin to build it. In fact, it was easier to build than I had really thought possible. Perhaps the three years of daydreams and figurin' paid off!

A cabin is built

There were a number of serious constraints upon my cabin plans that I had to consider when designing it. First off, I had to cut, drag and maneuver the logs from the woods in North Carolina. I am by no means a huge guy. I weigh 135 pounds. I wanted the logs as thick as possible to insulate and protect the interior of the cabin from upstate New York's cold winters. I had no machinery other than a much worn riding lawn mower. I built a sled to drag the logs from the woods. (See log sled detail, below.)

The logs were cut at specific lengths. I chose nine, eight, seven, and six-foot for the bulk of the log lengths. I field cut these logs a little longer than would be needed so that angled cuts could be corrected onsite. I also cut some three, four and five-foot logs for the logs that butted to windows and doors. I drew the cabin up on paper, measured the average thickness of the logs (which was about 10 inches) and left a one-inch gap between each log for chinking to achieve the "wide chinked" look. The average weight of the eight-foot logs at this point--green--was around 220 lbs. While it was difficult to lift logs that heavy by myself, they were at least light enough to maneuver--even upending them and flipping them end over end could be accomplished to get the log to the sled trail. I sledded the logs in dry weather, with no snow.

Loading the logs into the rental truck was not a terrible task. For putting the logs in the van, I basically teeter-tottered them in with another log laid horizontal to the rear doors of the van. I also put hardwood floors in the van, which really helped them slide in.

Once the logs were 200 feet from the cabin site was where the real work began. I shoulder carried 14 logs to the cabin site over two days. My shoulders really took a beating--they were black and blue and bleeding in places. Although the three years of drying had shed some pounds off the logs, they were still over 120 pounds each, and probably closer to 160. On the 15th log, I stumbled. The log hit a high spot in the trail, with most of its weight being away from me. The end of the log closest to me brushed the end of my nose as it flew way up into the air, then rolled down the gully and into the woods. I thought about how close I had just come to having my chin broken by a stupid overweight pine log. I looked at my shoulders. It was time for a new game plan.

I built a bridge over the gully. Then it was time to go back to North Carolina for a few weeks. There I built the greatest el-cheapo log-carrying contraption ever invented. One used hand truck, one lawn mower handle, four flat L brackets and some bolts. Add one tie-down ratchet strap--whamo--life is easier! (See log hauler diagram, right.)

Back in New York, it was time to start building. I gathered large flat rocks from the old field and forest. I staked out the 14-1/2 x 24 building site, and drew taut a level line. The building site was very sloped. Like four feet drop on a 14-foot width. The ground was also subsoil with very little topsoil present and the subsoil is mostly gravel. The former cabin site had been very deep topsoil--three feet. While the former site had been well drained, this site was very well drained. For that reason, I decided to ignore the 48-inch footer depth recommendation. Since then, all the builders I've talked to who have seen the cabin have upheld my decision. Provided the ground is adequately drained, the footers don't have to go below frost depth. In the event of a problem ... I built it, I can fix it! So I placed 12 pillars consisting of flat stones mortared together. The two center of the building pillars are six inches lower than the perimeter ones. Two of the perimeter pillars are built two leveled, with one level being the same as the rest of the perimeter pillars and the other six inches lower to create a shelf.

Since the front of the cabin's pillars were reaching very tall proportions, I cheated a bit. Instead of using rocks the whole way up, I stopped 18 inches short of the top. I placed 18inch oak rounds upright on the stone pillars to complete the distance. This worked very well indeed. (Diagram: foundation pillars, below, right.)

With the pillar-foundation complete, I next went into the floor making business. I laid a spliced together sub joist on the pillars. This ran 23 feet--from the low side of the two-leveled perimeter pillar across the two six-inch lower center pillars and to the low side of the other two-leveled pillar opposing. A "backbone" of this nature really isn't necessary for a structure that is only 14 feet wide. It does stiffen up the floor considerably. Since I had only eight foot long lumber, it made sense for me. My joists were then installed. Since my joists were eight feet long (actually nine, they were field cut rough cut lumber, with the ends not trued up), I spliced them together over the subjoist. I placed my 2 x 6 joists at 24-inch centers, and toenailed them to the spliced 6 x 6 subjoist. At this point the structure was very wobbly. The ends of the joists were not yet attached to anything. It resembled a giant teeter-totter waiting to be teetered or tottered!

The next task was to begin raising wall Jogs. On the low (uphill) side of the cabin, I placed a large log onto the pillars, just touching the joists. I marked the log where it contacted each joist. I removed the log, and used a chainsaw to notch into the log places for the joists to set into the log. The log was measured for length then installed. I toenailed five large nails through each joist into the log. I would have preferred to use joist hangars at that phase, but had neither the place to buy them nor the cash to buy them with!

After the first log was installed, I placed an upright 2 x 6 x 9 on the end of the log. This upright was centered over the stone pillar. It was critical that this upright be "right on the money." I used two 12-inch spiral galvanized spikes to anchor the upright to the log.

The next log was installed in the same way--another rear (uphill side) log. Once all three rear logs were installed--two seven-footers and one eight-footer in the middle--the front (downhill) logs were placed in the same way. Thus, with six logs installed, there were four upright 2 x 6 x 9 boards poking up at the sky.

Now this next part is where I should have spent a few extra dollars. It would have gone a long ways into making the cabin really for-sure square and stronger and seal better. What I did do was this: I stood four upright logs up at the corners of the cabin, overtop of the stone pillars. I pounded two 12-inch spiral spikes from each horizontal log into the upright log. What I should have done Was not used a round log for the corner. I should have carried these four logs to the mill and paid the $10 or less to have a 90 degree corner sawed in each. While the chainsaw can be pretty accurate, a sawmill is dead on. I didn't even bother to chainsaw the corners--just spiked round logs up. How wonderful it would have been to install truly vertical corner logs that could have been dead-on square, with a nice smooth corner for the horizontal logs to attach to.

After the uprights were installed, I did the end wall bottom logs. Again, where the two 6-1/2-foot long logs intersected I installed an upright 2 x 6. This time I chose a 12-foot long 2 x 6 (I had a small stash of 12 footers). Later, this extra length would tie in with the gable end walls.

Now, with the entire perimeter of the cabin "logged," I placed a sub floor in. This sub-floor consisted of 7/8's yellow poplar planks. I had had these cut by a pay-by-the-hour band saw operator I was impressed by the amount of wood he cut in an hour and a half (I expected that same amount to take him all day!), and it really was an economical way to acquire building materials.

Another trip to North Carolina came and went. By now it was late summer I brought a family acquaintance with me to help with the log raising. Later, my brother and parents came up, and everyone pitched in. It didn't take long at all to raise the logs. Had I been able to get the log hauling van to the site (impossible due to the trees, ditches and very steep grade), this would have been a two-day job.

As each log was carted up the hill from the van, it was looked over. If neither of the ends were very square, I made one slice with the saw to "square" up one end. Since I used round logs, there is no such thing as perfect due to the knots, twists and bends of the log. I got it as good as I could. I measured where the log was destined to go for length. The tape was moved around there to make sure that there weren't any angles of the upright 2 x 6s or logs. Then the log was measured three times and marked three times. Three times makes sure the cut will be true. My Echo 440 saw was fired up and the log was cut square at the measured end. From there the log was brought to the wall. Two shims were placed on the lower log. If the lower log had a curve or whatever, sometimes only one shim was used or even none at all. The idea is to keep the logs running as level as possible The log was set into position. Two 12-inch spikes were driven through the 2 x 6 upright into the log. At the opposing end, two more 12-inch spikes were toenailed through the log into the 2 x 6 upright, or the end log depending on position. Then I climbed up onto the wall, and used a smaller saw to bore through the log halfway. I kind of logged this out, keeping the saw vertical to the log. Then I drove one or two (depending on the log length) spikes into the bored holes. I used a railroad spike to pound the spike into the bored hole.

I didn't have power at the site for running power tools, otherwise I would have spade bitted the borings with a one-inch bit and a halfinch drive drill. Actually, more than likely I would have used a one-inch spade bit and wound up burning two or three 3/8 drive drills up in the process.

Where door and windows would be set, I framed each spot with 2 x 6s and 2 x 4s. In fact, the windows were set as the logs went in. Occasionally I had to chalk line and cut a flat spot in a log lengthwise in order to accommodate the window fixture.

I was careful to make sure that no one wall got too high too fast. This could have resulted in problems. Pretty much, we went round and round the cabin raising the logs. All the logs went in from the interior, because we had no scaffolding. The total wall height was 8-1/2 feet, so this was not difficult to get to by climbing the ladder-like lower logs.

With the cabin's logs almost all in place, it was time to install the loft joists. Here, I ran two 14 foot doubled 2 x 6s across the width of the cabin. These were nailed (with heavy nails) to the upright 2 x 6s. Below the loft spanners, I carefully chalk lined the logs and fit a 2 x 6 x 8 upright--this tied into the existing upright, but at a 90 degree angle to it.

I then placed 2 x 6 joists from the spanners to the log wall. Again, as with the floor joists, I notched each log to accept the end of the 2 x 6. Above the front door I was forced to use a 2 x 4 due to clearance issues. Yellow poplar planks were again used for the subfloor of the loft floors. I blocked the spanners again with 22-inch blocks that are nailed to the spanner for added strength. We had our one "big mishap" occur when I stupidly stood on one of the spanners--which was not yet doubled or blocked--with my 280-pound family acquaintance. The spanner snapped due to a knot, and we both plummeted to our deaths. No really, we both hopped to the log walls like scalded cats and managed to not kill ourselves in the process. The spanner was replaced and doubled!

A long time ago, I toured a southern plantation in the eastern part of North Carolina. I spent most of my time touring not the beautifully painted mansion, but the "rough shod" slave's quarters. I really thought ... wow, those slaves had a decent building! I asked the guide if I could tour the spacious loft, and I was allowed. I noticed an interesting fact. The roof had no ridge beam. Instead, the rafters simply came up to the peak, and lapped each other. A hickory peg was all that supported the rafters to each other, along with a thin "wind beam."

I used a similar idea. Which, looking back, I should have done some things a bit differently, but the strength of the roof is not compromised.

I simply placed two 2 x 6 x 12 boards to each other at a 90-degree angle. I lag bolted them together using four, four-inch lags. I then nailed a one-inch "wind beam" across the two rafters about a foot and a half below their overlap. This made for a dandy truss, that could simply be stood up and toenailed into place. No ridge beam makes for easy building.

What I did wrong was allowing an idiot who couldn't comprehend what a 90-degree angle is, bolt four of the trusses together and raise them up. I had to work that day, and by the time I noticed how out of whack they were, it was too late to change. Another difficult part of the truss job was making sure they all set into the logs evenly. I hit more than a few nails getting them to the proper depth! And still another "duh" moment was realizing that I should have made the trusses at either end of the building double thickness to make a flat surface inside and outside the cabin, instead of allowing them to set flat on one another, creating a two-inch difference in surface level at the peak.

At any rate, 2 x 4 and 2 x 6 boards joined the trusses together by nailing them from one truss to the next. Junctions were staggered to make a stronger roof. Blocks were added above the logs to seal the gaps. The 2 x 4 and 2 x 6 lengthwise boards were installed 16 inches on center. Sixteen-inch overhangs form the gable end walls. I really enjoy the looks of a building with long overhangs, and on a cabin it's important to keep the overhangs large to keep the logs as dry as possible. Twenty-inch overhangs form the front and rear overhangs of the cabin by leaving the trusses "too long."

Galvanized roofing was then screwed over the roof. It's very important to use screws--these little buggers aren't cheap but do a superior job of holding tin down in wind.

With the cabin dried in, I left again and came back in October with my brother. We framed in the gable-end walls, and put leftover yellow poplar planks up, along with two windows, one on either end. We placed slab wood over the gaps in the planks. Then we put tar paper (30 weight) on the end wall interiors, the gaps at the end of each rafter block (where the block met the top log was not a perfect seal). We also put two thicknesses of 30 weight tarpaper on the floor, and insulated the bottom of the cabin using non-itchy (white) rolled fiberglass bat, paper backed. I used R 11 3-1/2 inch thick insulation for the underside of the cabin.

With that, that was "it" till May of 2006. Then it was really rock and roll time. I came up alone, and tried to get all the little things done to make it possible to actually live there. I had a lot of jobs sculpting to do over the summer, and I had to work both the cabin work and the sculpting in. This was not easy because I had to travel for half the time.

After digging a deep privy pit and installing the log outhouse (it's six sided, to use up the wood I had left), I planted a garden, cleared brush, built a wood stove and a wood stove base, froze my tail off for most of May and finally set about chinking up the cabin. I cut three-inch strips of batted insulation and stuffed these in the walls. Then came the chinking itself.

You know, chinking isn't an easy task. First off, there is very little information I've found about what to use or how to do it. My long ago plan was to use expensive perma type chink. But $700 to $1,200 was way out of my price range. I trial-and-errored my way to a final solution. Forms, nails imbedded in the chinking, roofing cement--bad ideas. First, mix up a batch of brick mortar. It should be not too wet and not too dry. Too wet and it slides out of the logs. Too dry and it falls out. Just right it defies gravity! Spread plastic sheeting on the ground below the work area (I didn't). Use a seven-inch or so trowel for most of the work. A two-inch square trowel is also very helpful. The first wall you do should be the wall you look at the least! Load the trowel's edge with mortar. A two-inch thick line is about right. Tap the trowel briskly on the bottom log. Draw the trowel up, pushing the mortar lightly into the insulation and then harder into the top log. The chinking should not bulge. It should U inwards to allow water to shed from the wall. (See chinking diagram, above.)

With the chinking in place, I put six-inch thick R 19 fiberglass insulation on the roof (under the metal roofing, not on top). Then I put 3/8-inch drywall under this. A cabin, I soon found, can be a very dark place. The drywall went a long way to lightening up the interior. Raising it into position was difficult. My seven-year-old daughter really did help with this.

With the open area between the lofts, it is difficult to keep the bedroom temperatures reasonable. With the wood stove going on a 20-degree night, I have been able to achieve 130 degrees upstairs--a little too warm for comfort. So two hours before turning in, I have to really start slowing the 55-gallon drum stove back.

I also placed Tyvek vapor barrier under the cabin. This was to keep the dogs from pulling down the insulation.

On the gable end walls, I placed two layers of 30-weight tarpaper in, then 10 inches of insulation. Since these walls don't have the protection of thick logs I wanted to super insulate them. I put tongue and groove pine siding on the inside of the gable walls to finish them off.

We finally got "in" the cabin in September. This is our first winter there, and so far so good. Our horses are housed and pastured, there is meat in the new smoke house. We canned over 100 quarts of stew, meat, veggies and apples on my outdoor canning station (pressure canner). I also built a stackable dehydrator that hangs above the wood stove (it works very well!). The cabin still has some finishing touches to go, I call them "perfect winter projects."

Looking back, there were ways to save more money. Hiring a portable band saw to custom cut my lumber from logs I snagged (free) from wherever would have saved cash. But I didn't have time while I was building to wait for this, so I bought my lumber from a mill in the form of rough cut lumber--45 to 55 cents per board foot was the going rate. I did manage to find and use a lot of free lumber, but my budget went mostly to buying 2 x 6s. Another $800 went to buying insulation. This was too important to try any other approach (like straw stuffing or whatever). The rest of the budget paid for the logs to be trucked, the caulk, chinking, and mortar.

Every time I look around the cabin, all I can say is: satisfaction. I built a "house" that is durable, beautiful, strong and efficient for less money than most people ppay for a ratty used car (about $2,500-$3,000 total). It nestles into its surroundings, and when we open the windows, the sounds of the birds and the nearby waterfalls echo inside. Despite all the waiting and hardships. It was all worth it!