Tuesday, June 23, 2015

Farm Work

I'm so excited. M is going to go work for Ken starting next week building and stitching yurts! I know I'm living vicariously through her, but I'm also so excited for her to have the experience and to live in a yurt while she's there. And of course I'll come visit. How great is that?? What an opportunity!

In other news, an old friend of ours who we haven't seen in years is putting up a yurt in a few weeks, and guess who's helping them build it? Yep! Ken and crew at Two Girls Farm, and yours truly. Everything is intertwining in mysterious ways!

Timber Punks (or Industrialism vs. wildness)

This is merely an aside, a divigation into slightly different territory than that directly concerning yurts, but one I think that has definite application to the world of alternative structures and their construction.

When Ken and I were talking the other day, I was wearing a shirt that said "Timber!" on it, and we got talking about the intersection, or rather the juxtaposition, of society vs. wilderness, or really I should say of industrialism vs. wildness. During our talk, Ken mentioned the term "timber punks" and it really stuck with me (therefore the credit goes all to him). When I do a Google search of this term, nothing comes up, which is fantastic. Herein I anti-copywrite the term Timber Punks, to be used freely by all.

Anyway, perhaps you've heard the term "lumbersexual", for which there's now a blurb on Wikipedia. To quote an article from Time magazine (Time magazine!),

the lumbersexual has been the subject of much Internet musing in the last several weeks. The term is a new one on me but it is not a new phenomenon. In 2010 Urban Dictionary defined the lumbersexual as, “A metro-sexual who has the need to hold on to some outdoor based ruggedness, thus opting to keep a finely trimmed beard.”
 Ok, so this is decidedly NOT what I'm talking about. I'm not talking about urban man's attempt to regain some of his masculinity by wearing plaid shirts and sporting "a finely trimmed beard". I'm talking more about the back-to-the-land movement, the homesteading movement, catalyzed by Scott and Helen Nearing and described in their book The Good Life, particularly the people that undertake this lifestyle. So in fact it's diametrically opposed to the lumbersexual, being one who embraces urbanity and industrial culture. Here I'm talking about Wildness, about that innate, instinctual desire inside all of us (some closer to the surface than others) to shred off the last vestiges of our modern paradigm and retreat to something wholly other, something quite literally Wild. To gnaw and to claw, to work the earth, to eke a living from the planet. And when I say "a living", I don't mean "to make money", I'm not talking about trading our precious time and efforts in a slave-bargain for capitalism. I mean literally to live, to live Wild, as we were meant to.

But I digress. I envision a whole community of people living close to the earth, people who appreciate the wild, uncontrollable nature of....nature, people who maybe don't fit into the accepted norms of society. It's not about your music, it's about your lifestyle.Timber Punks!

Thursday, June 11, 2015

Two Girls Farm visit

Yesterday we took a trip up to New Hampshire to visit Ken Gagnon at Two Girls Farm in Acworth, a tiny little rural town in the south west of the state. What a positive experience! It was a little hard to find, nestled back in the forest as it was, down some pretty rough dirt one-land dirt roads, but it was well worth the effort and then some.

When we arrived, two great big dogs came running out to greet us and try to impress us with their play fighting to show us how cool they were. The main house and farm buildings are built in a half square around a courtyard of sorts where there are (mostly birch) saplings drying and yurt frames in various stages of being built.

The courtyard
A few saplings next to the barn, waiting to be turned into yurts

Ken then greeted us at his door, and we instantly started chatting away like we were old friends. He made us feel very comfortable and was easy-going and really made the whole experience for us. He led us into the part of his workshop where he was building various doors and ceiling hoops and then stepped up through a tiny Alice-in-Wonderland door to a workroom where one of his assistants was busy stitching together insulation for a wall panel, and we got to see all the fibers they use to sheath their yurts. He told me he currently had 30 on order, so they're no doubt keeping busy!

A completed ceiling ring (with real glass!) in the workshop


Some dry timbers and a ceiling ring
We then proceeded to the coup de grace, the yurt itself. This is a 20' yurt (314 square feet), similar to the one Ken lived in for 9 years (and using some of the recycled pieces from that structure). The really special thing about Ken's yurts, and the thing that really got me when I discovered them a few days ago, is the fact he uses natural untreated hardwoods throughout the structure. The decking is all untreated green hemlock timbers, and the lattice work and roof beams are all either full saplings cut to length (for the room beams) or split saplings (for the lattice). This is a really unique feature for yurts being made in any volume today, since most are manufactured beams by large companies who use pressure-treated woods. The look and feel the use of this green wood imparted cannot be described. The interior has such a handmade feel, so comforting and welcoming, that it's almost frightening to think of this as a home; most homes don't make use of natural green materials in their raw state!

Yurt exterior. I love the sunlight on the floor through the skylight!

The center ring with green sapling rafters and central chimney, my two favorite features

Ken and I talking shop

The sun around which the yurt revolves

The tiny entryway

Hard-working old Tempwood
My second-favorite feature was the use of a central woodstove and chimney up through the skylight, in a traditional Mongolian fashion. Ken feels this makes a yurt feel more like a home and especially helps heat a round space evenly. I agree,  and with most (every one I've encountered) modern yurt companies designing their yurts for use with a stove at the perimeter, this is refreshing. A perimeter stove makes the space harder to heat, and heats very unevenly and not as efficiently. There's also a beauty and symmetry to this central stove; it becomes like an axis around which a home functions, a source of heat, of light, of life and food, a gathering place, and after all that's what a good kitchen is. Here in the yurt, the kitchen becomes part of the rest of the home, and all is integrated into the round seamlessly.

Ken designs all his yurts with either 5' or 6' high walls, and offers 14', 17', 20' or 25' diameter yurts (that's 154, 227, 314 or 500 square feet), staring at $3400 up to $7600 + insulation and extras. The yurt pictured has 5' walls, which end up making the door a little stumpy for my height, but doable, but also diminish the size of the space you need to heat, a real plus. I should add Ken also offers rounded doors. I'll be taking one of those, thank you.

(photo © Ken Gagnon)
Ken also experiments with other forms of building. Although no formal training as an architect, Ken's designs are brilliant and his symmetries perfect. He's currently experimenting with Khazak-style gers, teepees and has done some brilliant cordwood huts. In fact, there's one on his property that he uses as a sauna and guest room.  He is also an accomplished timber framer, and having built all the barns and buildings on his properties one can see this in action.

Cordwood masonry sauna (photo © Ken Gagnon)

Swept rafter tail detail on cordwood sauna (photo © Ken Gagnon)
Timber framed interior of workshop barn

Exterior of barn
All in all, this was a fantastic experience for both of us, and Ken and his family are living the life we  dream of.  M and I were both buzzing with excitement when we left (I still am while writing this the next day), and it was sad to have to leave.  Ken's work and art and way of life are truly inspirational for us, and I'm sure others feel the same who've visited the farm.  And now we're really looking forward to our new home, built by new friends who truly care about their craft and about creating a sustainable life for themselves and homesteaders throughout New England.  So if you're thinking about building a yurt and you're within a 100-mile radius of south central NH, please buy local from Two Girls Farm!

Ken also wrote a great article on living in a yurt last year; it's even got a convenient jpeg summary sheet you can print out or post on your blog!


Click to Enlarge Image

Hunkering Down in a Yurt

Hunkering Down in a Yurt
Infographic by CustomMade

Decisions, decisions...

As of this past Sunday, we've narrowed our land-grab down to two competing finalists, each with their own merits and pitfalls.

One, the original, is two lots in the town of W. that are side by side, totaling 10 acres. This property is a nice flat piece of land, flanked on two sides by W. State Forest, and is relatively clear and ready to go. I'd say 5 or 6 acres of the total is exposed to sunlight, making it excellent and ready-made for putting up the yurt, building a straw bale village (did I not mention that yet? More on that in a subsequent post), having what could amount to a vast garden for our subsistence, chickens, goats, and possibly alpacas as time progresses. It's also in a bit of a valley, and the water table looks close to the surface, especially as indicated by the spring-fed pond on the northern border. There is also a perfectly usable shed immediately off to the side, near a large berm of trees that obscures the 800' -or so-frontage. If it sounds perfect, there are a few caveats.

One is that there is some old farm-waste on the land. This includes (and hopefully is limited to, but who knows what's buried underground) a huge old cement foundation from the barn that used to stand on the property; said old barn itself in a huge pile of rubble set back from the foundation several hundred feet (who knows what's under there?); an old short trailer with what looks like a latrine in it, an old pickup truck (probably a farm truck that is kept unregistered for use around the property, it's not rusting into the ground by any means and still looks quite capable); a large pyramid of old tractor tires (about 30' in diameter, 7' high); assorted bits of waste and trash; what looks to be some seriously sandy soil.

All in all, just a few old things that need disposal and some soil that might need some rebuilding. The optimist would say not too bad. The tires can be repurposed to new and better lives; after all, they are a natural material, one that is resilient and would make excellent shoe treads, planters, obstacle courses and rope swings. The old barn wood can be repurposed to new sheds, fixes for walls, coops and barrows; what yuppie wouldn't pay a fortune for old barn wood? The latrine and the junk, not so much.

Another silver lining: the owner will remove all this stuff on agreement of sale. Why not before, I have no idea. But we're thinking of negotiating our price lower and we'll take care of most of the junk; they can take the latrine and the garbage and the pickup truck. Well, maybe the pickup would be useful too. So it seems like a win-win all around. Another negative: it's a bit far from my work. I should say, it's a bit far from my "work" or a bit far from my job. Which isn't a great reason to reject a place. Would you really want to select where you live, your HOME, with only regard for it's proximity to where you sell yourself so that you can maintain that home? I didn't think so.

The second piece(s) of land are two side-by-side plots in the town of L. These total 10.7 acres and are moderately to heavily wooded, rolling, but nothing too severe, and with some areas of huge rock outcroppings and boulders as well as old stone farm walls from the 18th century. The current owner has never lived on the property and in fact has it under chapter 61, which is a way of classifying land as "forest land", and allows the owner to pay no tax and to guarantee conservation of said land into perpetuity or until they decide to change the taxation method if they want to build on it.

This land will take some work to make into a homestead, but there are some really valuable points to make about it, both positive and negative. One is that, in the town of L., real estate appreciates considerably since, even thought it's in the woods, is adjacent to the town of A. where all the rich yuppies and collegiate types live.  Bonus points there for equity and money making, if one were ever to sell. A negative is that it is heavily forested, and although it has been perc tested, would take a considerable amount of work to clear out portions just for putting up a yurt, not to mention gardening and livestock management. I imagine 1/2 to one acre for these purposes in general. One possible issue is that it's on a hill or small mountain, which could make well digging tricky, deep and expensive. Another negative is that there is a guard rail running the length of the frontage of this property, which is about 1000'. How does one create an access point with that in the way? Do we need to pay the state to remove it, or a portion of it? Will they do it once the land is established for use that way? Will this take years of bureaucratic red tape to sort out? This is a big one. Finally, while we know full well we are in black bear country in either L. or W. (they are actually rather close to each other), we actually encountered a large black male bear when looking at the L. property. Biggest one we've ever seen, and we've seen a few. And he was galloping right through the center of the land in question. So, there's that to consider as well.

Now on to the yurt considerations. We know very well that people build and live in yurts and other alternative structures in W. township, this is a well established fact. So there shouldn't be any hurdles to get over there in terms of building what we want when we want it without hassle. L. is an unknown quantity, we have no idea what their zoning laws are like, and I've never seen a yurt or strawbale or earthship or geodesic dome in L. So there's that too.

We're trying to make our final decision on which one to buy, and we're in the midst of doing our do-diligence to make sure all is square and right with each one before we do it. Make sure you're educated before the fact and make the right choice. We're trying to do the same.


Thursday, June 4, 2015

A Beginning

So we are setting off on becoming "adults", buying land or a house or both and setting down roots of a sort. I've really gotten hooked on the whole idea of buying a piece of land outright that we can homestead. The only way we can do this is if we liquidate my wife's 401k, and for a sizable chunk of it we (she) can buy the land with no lending, no banks, no nonsense. Imagine having no mortgage, no rent. This is the grand motivator for our life experiment, I guess I should say for the rest of our lives, for the beginning of our new lives, forever and ever amen.

I've also really gotten hooked on building a home debt-free. Who wouldn't? In my case, I think you need to be somewhat of an adventurer. What qualifies as an adventurer? How about someone in their late 30s who figures "if I can't find a job I'll just live on the Appalachian Trail for as long as it takes". Yeah, that kind of adventurer. Words like "unrealistic", "dreamer", "head in the clouds", "dropout" or "homeless" have all swirled about, but actually, it's not unrealistic at all. Nor is it a dream. What it takes, though, is a great deal of courage, of ideals that can't be swayed, of information and ponderings and plannings that have accrued in the mind over decades; in other words, this is not a new idea.

How do we have a home debt-free? Ok, I can see buying a parcel of raw land, a blank canvas yet to be painted, but an actual shelter? A domicile? What are you, independently wealthy? Hardly. We've had to struggle for many years, sometimes (fairly often, actually) skimping on meals, cutting corners where we could (and sometimes where we couldn't) just to make ends meet. So how the heck do you afford a place to call home on top of all that uncut land?

Ladies and gentlemen, it's called a yurt.  What is the genesis of this project? How/why/where did you get this crazy idea? How will you keep up with the neighbors?

I remember, long ago, my parents got me a book for my birthday. We were always bookish sorts, these were the things that were most exciting to me to receive. Imagine all that information (or misinformation) crammed into those pages just waiting to be used! For only the price of a book (admittedly more and more expensive all the time) there were whole worlds to be investigated and learned from. So this book that started it all, for me, was an oversized paperback called Shelter by Lloyd Kahn and Bob Easton, published in 1973. I'll let the copy editors speak for me:

Shelter is many things - a visually dynamic, oversized compendium of organic architecture past and present; a how-to book that includes over 1,250 illustrations; and a Whole Earth Catalog-type sourcebook for living in harmony with the earth by using every conceivable material. First published in 1973, Shelter remains a source of inspiration and invention. Including the nuts-and-bolts aspects of building, the book covers such topics as dwellings from Iron Age huts to Bedouin tents to Togo's tin-and-thatch houses; nomadic shelters from tipis to "housecars"; and domes, dome cities, sod iglus, and even treehouses.
 I was always interested in building places from natural objects. My father was a carpenter, and I grew up around things being built, and wondered at them. I also grew up building as many shelters as I could in as many ways as I could out of things I found in the woods behind our house; if an errant wanderer strayed back there in the early 80s, they would have thought they were in an Ewok village for the number of lean-tos and ramshackle teepees they would find.  After I got this mind-expanding book, I was convinced I would be living in an earthship or geodesic dome or a wattle and daub hut soon enough. If only that were true!

Distractions happen, life gets in the way (what a lousy excuse!). Fast forward to today, and suffice it to say I am doggedly determined to make this a reality. And we're ready to do it, too. Ready to be adults, but in a different way. Ready, instead, to take that notion of adulthood and tilt it on its head, to instead back away from the rat-race and the 3 car garage and the mortgage and the swimming pool. To get back to where we once belonged. To regain the place in our ecosystem we feel we belong.

We are going to build a yurt.

 I don't think yurts ever even come up as a viable option in Shelter, surprisingly. Maybe that's because the late Bill Coperthwaite hadn't yet brought the notion to its full fruition in the western world. If you haven't yet, read his A Handmade Life; it'll change yours forever. But I digress. "But a yurt," you say "Isn't that like living in a tent?".  My coworkers at my job at a small college here in the Pioneer Valley all laugh at me. They always joke that "why buy that piece of lab equipment X, I'm sure he could just make one out of twigs and mud".  Laugh away, my friends! Hopefully you'll see things from my perspective when you come to your first yurt-warming (I need to get a trademark on that).

To be continued...