August 15-18
Evening at the homestead
Snettisham
2013 - 9: The Bridge - Part 2
August 15-18
Evening at the homestead
Having arrived back in Juneau at 7:15 Tuesday
evening after
back-to-back Snettisham/Taku trips, I wound up spending all of
Wednesday in
town recuperating and helping Chris entertain his grandfather visiting
on a
cruise ship. I just didn’t have it in me to pack and run errands to
head out that
same day. Instead, I ran a few errands Thursday morning and had a
leisurely
departure at 11:30 a.m., pleased to see that the flags were still
pointing
south (the wind was supposed to turn against me that afternoon). In
fact, the
water could not have been better, calm or nearly calm all the way
south, and I
couldn’t imagine how I’d been so lucky. It was a wonderful thing to be
back in
the Ronquil, ship shape with hardly any load at all, cruising on a
gentle ocean
to the homestead. I scanned around the entire trip for any sign of
whales or
orcas, but saw nothing but a couple of silky harbor seals near Seal
Rock.
I arrived at the homestead around 1:15, precisely
at low
tide, but the low tide was around 5’ and I was able to pull quite close
to the
mud bank. With only a backpack, small duffle, grocery bag, and a single
piece
of window trim, I was able to carry everything up in one trip on my way
to get
the kayak (possibly a first), and even Cailey stayed on the boat as I
did so.
We quickly anchored and came back to shore, pausing for a quick snack
before
getting to work, noticing with disappointment that there was clearly no
flow of
water through the water system (the pressure was weak and rapidly
dropping). I
had my emergency gallon, though, so decided it could wait until the
next day.
The air was still clear and warm, though a breeze
was
picking up that suggested a change in the weather. I cut six balusters
out of
2x4s and screwed four of them onto the downriver end of the rails. That
seemed
to be working well enough, so I returned to the deck of the lodge,
trimmed two
pieces (which had turned out to be too long), and cut 30 more. This was
a bit
labor intensive, as I wanted the balusters to have 45 degree angles on
both
ends, complicating the cutting by having to measure extra carefully and
flip
the boards around to make sure I was cutting in the right direction.
Plus I
think the blade on my skilsaw is wearing out. But eventually I’d cut
them all
and carried another batch down to the bridge. Since I had the locations
for the
balusters on the first ~8’ section already marked, these were easy
enough to
place. I screwed the top of them into the top rail from the ground,
then made
sure they were plumb before screwing in the bottom. When the
first
section was done, I measured the second section and quickly figured out
how
much space to leave after the first post (slightly more than in the
previous
section
because it was a bit wider), then marked their locations on the top
rail (about
2 inches from the post and four inches between each baluster). Because
the tops
of the balusters were much farther from the ground in that section, I
screwed the
tops in from the bridge and then screwed the bottoms in from below.
I repeated the process for the third and final
section,
though I had to reposition almost all of the balusters after screwing
the tops in because (despite careful calculations) I’d wound up with a
4.5” gap
between the last balusters and the last post and had to move everything
over an
inch and a half even though the math didn’t work. It turns out that the
problem
was that I forget which side of my lines the balusters went on and my
original
lines were correct (which I only discovered as I approached within two
balusters
of the final post). I must say, the results looked gorgeous. I was
still troubled
by the wigglyness of the posts, though, so I then added a longer lag
screw to
each of the four posts on that side, shoring them up a bit. I’m not
sure how
stable railings normally feel, but I’m still concerned.
While working on the final section of balusters,
rain began
to fall and I fetched a hat and jacket to finish the work, letting
Cailey
stay inside the lodge to rest. At 5:30 I’d reached a stopping point and
was
getting hungry, so I broke for the day, eating macaroni and cheese for
dinner,
reading a bit, and working on this trip report.
 Cutting rails and balusters |
 Putting up the first balusters |
 The first section complete |
Then started the rather agonizing task of nailing
the posts
in the notches until they were plumb so I could measure them for
trimming (they
are too tall). The first post gave me all kinds of trouble, both in
positioning
it correctly and in getting nails through the post. I bent several
nails in all
kinds of horrible ways, and rarely could I use a nail twice. I beat up
the
outside of it pulling bent nails out. Once they were more or less in
place (the
others went up much easier), I was initially troubled to see that they
didn’t
line up very well. But, holding up some handy 2x4s indicated that they
were
close enough. The real trouble came when I placed boards beneath each
post so I
could measure up from them to mark where each post should be trimmed
(about 35”
up, so the full height would be 36.5” with the top railing in place).
The board
for the final post was, as expected, not level. That log somehow goes
from
being level with the other log for 16’ to a drop of about 3” in the
last 8’.
That means that, to have level treads, I’d have to raise them 3”. But
that means
that, if the middle rails are level with the rails on the other
sections, they
won’t be level with the treads. I’d originally held up a board level
with the
line I’d marked for cutting on the nearest post in order to mark where
the
(level) board would be on the final post, but realized that cutting the
post
there would make the rail below the minimum 36” height above the
treads, since
they would be raised 3”. It was all very frustrating and, in the end, I
shimmed
up the board beneath the final post to level and measured 35” up from
there.
I carried all the posts back to the lodge deck and
trimmed
them before nailing them back into place, this time following up with
lag
bolts. I started with the forth post and was amazed at how much more
secure it
felt than the posts on the other side, probably testament to my careful
chiseling. While I worked on securing the second post I started
thinking
about how I needed to shoot my rifle today and that the tide was as low
as it
was going to get, which wasn’t very low at all. When I finished that
post, I
took a break and shot eight rounds down in the mud flats. After a
couple of
blueberry muffins I went back at it, struggling mightily to get the
next post
in place. But finally it was done, all the 
posts
surprisingly sturdy. I
marked
a line on all the posts 4” up from the treads, returned to the deck to
cut the
2x4 rails (the ones the balusters are screwed to) for the middle posts
(which
need to be slightly less than 8’) and painted some wood treatment onto
the tops
of the posts and the newly cut ends before screwing in the downriver
and middle
rails into place. I did not screw in the ones on the upriver section,
as I
think the floor treads should go into place before I figure out what
the rails
are going to do.
At that point it seemed wise to figure out the
decking, as
it had bearing on finishing the end of the rail (plus I was just not
eager to
cut a bunch more balusters, as the angles are a pain to deal with). I
calculated
that I needed an additional eight feet of decking on top of the 2x12
pieces I’d
already cut. I uncovered the corner of the lumber where I’d stashed
pressure
treated boards before and pulled out two 2x12 pieces and 2x8s.
I cut
those into 3’ pieces, carried them to the bridge, and discovered that I
needed
another 34” or so, or six 2x6s (since that was all I had left). I cut
those
pieces, carried them over, and began the very slow process of laying
them out.
I started out with a 2x6 for the short distance between the first post
and the
end of the logs, then started laying down 2x12s, making sure each was
flat and
stable before moving to the next. Although the guys had done a nice job
of
trimming the branches off the logs, a number of branch stubs remained,
causing
the boards to tilt badly. These knots I chiseled off one at a time. The
worst
ones required dicing them up like a checkerboard from above before
slicing at
them from the side, chipping off a few squares at a time. If there
weren’t so
many, and if some of them weren’t so stubborn, that part was actually
fun.
The 2x8 and 2x6 treads I used mostly around the
posts. I’d
made sure that the distance between the posts on the second log was
exactly the
same as the distance between the posts on the other side, but somehow
the first
posts were about 3” off, so they are actually offset. It worked well to
have
narrower treads around those posts, so one end butts against the post
and
doesn’t stick too far off the other side. By 6:30 I had them all laid
out, but
with an unfortunate gap about 6” wide. Physically and apparently
mentally
exhausted, I was in no state to problem solve, so I quit for the day
and
retreated to the lodge for a dinner of vegetable soup. The showers had
ceased
early in the day and the clouds had parted before a calm and beautiful
evening.
I sat on the deck to eat my soup and watch the birds. All day I’d heard
chickadees around me, and possibly golden-crowned kinglets, but little
else
other than haunting ravens and screaming eagles. But in just a couple
of
minutes, what seemed like one big flock of birds buzzed everywhere
among the
currents and salmonberry bushes on either side of the deck, and it even
seemed
like the chickadees were chasing other species. They whirred wildly as
they
crossed the deck into the bushes on the other side, working their way
slowly
upriver. I
saw a ruby-crowned kinglet, Wilson’s warblers, an orange-crowned
warbler,
chickadees, and Townsend’s warblers along with a Pacific wren who I
believe was
left behind as the others moved on. But the chickadees definitely
dominated the
day—it must have been a good year for them, and I wonder if they are
here all
year? I’d like to find out!
 Cailey hunting rodents |
 Placing the riverside posts |
 Plumbing the posts |
I’d left off the night before with a gap in the
treads and
uncertainty about where each tread should lay. After a quick look, I
decided to
go ahead and cut another tread from a 2x4 (which would be the only 2x4
tread),
which I quickly did. It really was the perfect size and didn’t seem to
detract
from the rest of the treads. Then I tediously arranged boards to be
both
functional (fitting around the posts) and aesthetic. When I finally had
them
all appropriately placed, I cut a small notch from the very first tread
so it
fit around one of its posts and also on the log in front of it. It was
a small
enough cut that I was able to do it with a hand saw and chisel. Having
fit that
one well, though, I looked at the next post and saw that its adjacent
tread would
benefit
greatly from a notch too. It required a much longer saw cut, though, so
I took
the time to carry it back to the lodge to cut, finished the vertical
cut with a
hand saw, and then chiseled the chunk out. Of course, that got me
looking at the
other posts, and I wound up carrying three more boards back to the
lodge to
cut, then saw by hand, then chisel, then treat with wood treatment
before
putting them back in place. I lost a lot of time that way, but the
results are
worth it.
Once the boards were back in place, I made sure
the spacing
between them was perfect, then began shimming the middle eight foot
section on
the uphill side, as the log there was a little lower than the one on
the other
side. They didn’t need much to bring them up to level, but I went
through a lot
of shims in the process. I’d also wasted a bit of time that morning
looking for
my lost bundles of shims; I’d purchased them last year to have on hand
and came
across them this spring, but I couldn’t find them anywhere in the
lodge, attic,
or work shop. Thankfully, I’d found a different bag shims the day
before and
had those to work with. I didn’t think I had enough for the whole
bridge, so I
stopped 2/3 of the way through and, after those were all placed and
shimmed,
carefully put two or three screws in each treat to hold them in place.
And then it was time for the last section, which
was much
less level than the rest of the bridge. I had only a handful of shims
left, so
I crawled under the bridge and broke off as many as I could (they were
all screwed in at that point), and started building the remaining
treads up on the
river side.
By the time I reached the last few boards I used 2x chunks I’d brought
over and
treated. I hadn’t quite raised them high enough to be perfectly level,
but they
were pretty close; stepping back, though, they looked decidedly less
level than
the rest of the bridge, so I went back and shimmed them up a little
more. This
is probably not what you’re supposed to do, but it seemed like the best
option
at the time! I can always shore them up better another time. In the
meantime,
Cailey kept stopping by and I kept shooing her away from my carefully
placed (but
not yet secured) boards!
The second round went quickly and I was soon
screwing the
boards down. The last few required me to screw down the supports before
I
screwed the boards to the supports, as they were too far elevated on
the one
side for the screws to reach the log. And then it was done—a fantastic,
relatively level if slightly catawampus looking bridge!
By that time it was about 12:30, so I broke for a
lunch of
well-deserved quesadillas. The next and nearly final step was to cut
and secure
the balusters for the second side of the bridge. I’d run out of
batteries on
the second maquita finishing the bridge treads and had none left (that
was the
fifth battery I’d run down this weekend!). Thankfully I’d brought down
the
charger for one of the maquitas, so decided to charge one of its
batteries while
I used the generator to cut the balusters. After measuring them out
(much more
intelligently than I had the day before), I started up Sparky and
quickly cut
them all up. After a couple of trips carrying them to the bridge, I
measured
the distance 
between
the two center posts so I could cut the 2x6 rails.
Then I
cut and carried the 2x6s over (mostly to allow the battery more time to
charge), before scouring the lumber stack for additional pressure
treated 2x4s
I might have missed the day before. I found one short piece and made an
additional baluster, then took the extension cord inside the lodge and
hooked
up the miter saw. I had two pieces of trim I wanted to cut, replacing
pieces
that were yellowed and didn’t match the rest of the trim (I’d brought
the fresh
12’ piece down for that purpose). I pried the trim over the top of the
back door
off and
traced it onto the fresh piece, then traced the outline of the special
piece
that goes below the back window which needs a cutout for the sink. I
made the
cuts that required the miter saw, then took the jig saw outside and
made the
final cut for the sink.
By that time, miraculously, the maquita battery
was charged,
so I headed back to the bridge, painted wood treatment on the cut ends
of the
balusters, and screwed them in, most of which I could do comfortably
from the
ground. There was plenty of power left after that, so I tentatively
placed the
last two middle rails between the last two posts on the downhill side,
pleased
that they didn’t look as off as I thought they might. When those were
secure, I
treated the ends of the cut 2x6 rails and screwed those on the top.
Unable
to stop,
I then took the time to finish shimming or re-shimming a couple of
treads,
mostly where one tread was significantly lower than the one following,
trying
to make the change more gradual. So close to being officially finished,
I still
couldn’t stop, so I poured wood treatment into a cup and painted the
tops
and bottoms of the balusters on the uphill side of the bridge as well
as the
cut tread ends on both sides. Finally, I took all the tools away, cut
off a
branch that had been lying across the front of the bridge and in the
way all
weekend, and took pictures. Of course, the bridge is not actually
complete
because somehow I managed to short myself about four 2x4s for the
balusters, so
just over a third of the downhill side lacks them entirely. But, that’s
a
simple fix for next time. Other than that, there was just one tread
that needed
to be secured better and it would be officially done.
When I got back to the lodge I thought I might
reward myself
with a scrumptious cup of Russian tea on the porch, even though it was
4:30 and
a bit late for caffeine, but when I looked out on the river I saw that
the tide
was lower than it had been all weekend and decided I’d try shooting my
rifle
again. I read the instructions for adjusting the sites (I’d been
consistently
low and to the right) which were woefully inadequate (it told me in
which
direction to move the rear sites for the desired shift, but did not
actually
explain how to move it). Nevertheless, I gave it a go, and shot off
five rounds
(the sixth misfired). Two were pretty close to the bulls eye and the
others
were close to center but still low. Perhaps I’ll back it up a notch and
see if
I get even closer.
For some reason, I still couldn’t stop, so I
screwed on one
of the hasps I’d brought down to secure the sides of the shed door. I
wanted to put the
second
hasp at the same level as the first, so I trudged back toward Mink
where I
thought I’d left the tape on the porch so I could take measurements. On
the way, I picked up the
clippers
and started cutting a trail behind Mink to the bridge, roughly where
the trail
across the gully used to be before the big tree fell. I trimmed
salmonberries
and devil’s club (as few as possible) and made a nice meandering trail
through
the bushes that have grown up impressively in the last eight years. I
tried to
avoid the path of the hose and the rough clearing behind Mink, trying
instead
to create a new path all its own. It requires the removal of quite a
few logs
(branches) on the ground, but otherwise I think it’ll work nicely. Once
I made
my way to the bridge, I saw that the nice rock in front of it would
look nice a
little closer, so I moved it just in front of the first tread and added
a rock
and a wedge of log to stabilize it. Then I saw that the straight side
of the rock was on
the outside and the rounded side was toward the bridge, so I flipped it
around,
which required readjustment of rocks and additional rocks, but it now
looks
pretty good and is nice and stable. Tomorrow I hope to clear the path
better
and start on the other side.
I did remember to bring the measuring tape back
with me (it
was actually stashed under the bridge) and screwed in the second hasp
to the
shed door. And then I did finally quit, had a snack and then ramen for
dinner
on the porch, and got back to work writing this!
 2/3 of the deck level |
 All treads are level! |
 And now the rails is mostly done too |
that
involved picking up devil’s club
and
hauling around logs. Logs, you say? Yep. The whole area behind Mink
cabin is
littered with the big limbs of the massive tree that came down in 2005,
most of
which are 6-8” in diameter. I pulled out all the salmonberries, devil’s
club,
and ferns I’d cut the day before and started probing at the branches I
found
crossing the path. It was incredible how many there were, many small
sticks and
thin branches in addition to the main limbs. Most were covered in moss,
having lain
there for eight years. I didn’t think I had a chance at moving some of
the
bigger ones, which seem to congregate near the end the bridge, but one
after
another I levered them up off the ground, broke off pieces, or
otherwise
dislodged them until I freed them from the ground and drug them to a
rapidly
building pile I created under the tree itself. It was hard, hard work,
but immensely
satisfying. I wound up clearing the entire are of dead wood (including
a tree
with a small root wad still in the ground), even those that posed no
threat to
the trail I’d built. For the moment it looks rather devastated, but
it’ll look
fantastic in the spring.
Cailey was pretty excited that I was so engaged
with sticks
and I had to be stern with her many times as she tried to play
tug-of-war with
the logs I was hauling away. But most of the time she was able to chew
and play
with logs of her choice while I worked to dislodge others. After the
downriver
trail was built, I crossed the bridge and slowly worked upriver,
picking the
route that involved cutting the least number of berries and trees.
Consequently, the trail goes more or less straight upriver until it
connects
with the trail between Harbor Seal and Hermit Thrush, and is not as
direct
a connection to Harbor Seal as I’d originally thought.
Building that trail was a different sort of trial.
There
were quite a few large branches near the bridge, but the rest of it
were mostly
smaller branches and devil’s club. As I am a fan of devil’s club (and
prefer
not to kill anything unnecessarily), I took as few as possible, pulling
out as
many dead stalks as live ones. Although the morning was wearing on, I
plugged
away, determined to intersect with the trail on the far end before I
left. At
last there was a clear trail, badly in need of trampling down, crossed
by the
water line for Harbor Seal cabin. I quit and headed back to the lodge
to pack
up and have a relaxing cup of Russian tea on the front porch. I
lingered there,
entertained by the bird activity in the bushes and shrubs 
on
either
side of the
porch. I was particularly excited to see an adult hermit thrush show
up,
followed by a fledgling, both of them eating elderberries. This was a
welcome
look at a hermit thrush fledging, as I’d been watching Swainson’s
thrush
fledglings for several weeks in Juneau and wanted to compare them. They
were
joined in the elderberry by what I believe was a young Lincoln’s
sparrow and
his bigger cousin the fox sparrow.
Eventually I finished closing up and kayaked out
to the boat
with Cailey, fueling up at the same time that I pumped the water out of
the
fuel tank well. When the floorboard supports were reconstructed, the
bilge pump
and float switch were not installed, so I have to manually set up and
start the
pump. I tried a strategy I’d been thinking about, which worked very
well, placing
the pump in the back of the boat under the mostly empty smaller fuel
tank and
propping the float switch up while I looked on. It was a surprisingly
slow
process, and doesn’t get the water in the bilge out, but vastly
superior
to
doing it by hand, and with light loads the water in the bilge doesn’t
hurt at
all.
I swung by the beach to drop off the kayak and
pick up the
little gear I had, leaving earlier than usual to have some time to
relax and
recuperate in town before heading back to work the next morning. We
left at
1:00, but lingered just around River Point to check out a huge
iceberg—by far
the deepest into the port I’ve ever seen one (a rare occurrence at
all). The
sloping
surface of one side was covered in gulls, their extended use betrayed
by the
brown droppings that marred the white surface. I tried to keep my
distance
so they
didn’t fly, but was rewarded when they did by noting their black legs
as they
took to the air. Almost all the gulls on the iceberg were black-legged
kittiwakes, a gull far more common closer to the outer coast than at
the
mainland. The port was a little rough, and we had a 2-3’ following sea
all the
way home--a little bouncy, but I was just grateful for the direction. I
texted
Chris on the way in, who drew me a steamy bath as I was driving home.
 Gray current crop! |
 The rock placed at the downriver end |
 Stack of branches from the downriver path |
 Downriver path behind Mink |
 Cailey is worn out |
 Black-legged kittiwakes |
