Cabin booty

The well spews orange dirt every spring and the mice must be fended off each fall, but the junk never lets me down.

It’s art now, isn’t it?

The day we closed on our cabin in the mountains, I achieved a goal so secret I’d hardly admitted it to myself: I now owned four buildings stuffed to the sagging rafters with Very Old Things. Things I could paw through at my leisure without an impatient spouse circling the estate sale, sighing and shuffling, as I tested the functionality of a spinning wheel or examined a Japanese tea set for chips.

I love touching the stuff. The more humble and quotidian the tool, the closer I feel to the people who journeyed thousands of miles by ship, train, carriage, and foot to make a new life in this unforgiving environment. They survived silver busts, bank runs, frontier justice, landslides, and — judging by a pair of warped door-size panels down by the creek — at least one explosion. Surely I can manage a frozen water pump and a couple of dead batteries?

Because the property is an old mining claim, we’ve found spikes the size of cricket bats and clamps too heavy to lift with one hand. A set of rails that once carried ore carts twist along the ground like a pair of giant russet ribbons. Fittingly, the Claim came with a marker, an enormous gear abandoned by the road between the two driveway entrances. It’s perfect where it is, lucky for us, because the crew that transported the Statue of Liberty is not available to relocate it.

Pioneer thriftiness ruled the joint, from the Pyrex skylight in the outhouse to the leaf spring that serves as a foundation for one of the sheds. Almost anything was worth saving because it could be repurposed someday. But eleven miles of hard road also discourages dump runs, so we have plenty of … antiques … to choose from as we redo the cabins. Here are a few favorites, with before and after photos:

The main cabin’s kitchen stove, before and partway through its restoration. The chimney is new, and the little firebox is a miracle-worker. I can’t wait to try baking muffins in the oven.

I smoked us out the first time I lit the kitchen stove because I mistook the diverter that sends hot air around the oven before it exits the chimney for the flue damper. I now have a handbook thanks to our lovely neighbors, Christine and Malia, and am beginning to get the hang of this brilliant appliance. This summer I’ll deep-clean and season it and attempt cornbread and muffins.

Antique wood-burning stoves aren’t uncommon in Colorado. Most of our neighbors in the nearby mining “ghost towns” have them, no two the same. I’ve coveted side sinks that heat water, overhead bread cabinets and butter warmers, enamel finishes and intricate scrollwork pulls. The lower cabin will need one soon, so I am on the hunt …

Yes, I’m going to replace the ugly, oversized curtain rod.

The windows in the main cabin were covered in curtains when we first toured it. In the boarded-up gloom of late fall, they looked like throwaways, but the panels in the bedroom turned out to be a real find. The texture is like raw silk, with green, brown, pink, blue, and yellow flora on a cream background. The edges are a little frayed and the lining sags, but they were spared the rodent depredation suffered by the upholstery and quilts.

A mouse-proof pantry!

We were disappointed when our plumber said the vintage Servel propane refrigerator was too dangerous to operate, but then Michael realized it would make a great pantry. It’s got style for miles and the mice have not found a way in. We use the old ice tray as our kitchen soap dish.

In situ.

The Claim’s second owner, the intrepid Walter, assembled a haphazard Servel museum over the years. Every shed contained at least one. Unfortunately, they looked like props for the Saw franchise by the time we came along.

Clockwise from top left: 1. A hundred-year-old ram pump likely used to move water from the creek at the lower end of the property. We found two, one of which had been soldered back together. 2. Metal cans and a handmade dolly. One can is labeled ‘alcohol’ (empty; I checked), but I’ve seen similar containers advertised online as “gas cans”. 3. Front and back views of decorative metal clasps or fasteners found under the flooring of the second cabin.

I haven’t identified the decorative clasps in the two images above. One local historian suggested they may have held fabric in place inside a carriage. The old leaf spring supporting the big shed could have come from a carriage, so maybe!

If you have additional information or insight on any of these items, please comment or send me a message. There is so much more, of course. I haven’t even talked about the bathroom, which contains one of the coolest vanity mirrors you’ll ever see (one day soon). But for today, we’ll finish with a few more stoves.

The stove on the left cooks with wood and/or propane, an exciting (?!) combo. But it’s missing some key elements. The stove on the upper right is from the Eighties according to our local expert. It has a sort of cheap fairytale look, and it’s not very efficient, so we’re replacing it. The stove on the lower right is beautifully ornate, with a decorative round grate on top. It’s been patched, and we are awaiting word on its safety.

Next: A little cabin break for a virtual tour of a local hot springs with a unique history.

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