Chapter 9 – The Roof
We started on our posts and the center beam the next day. It involved some of the most important measuring we had done yet, and measuring wasn’t our strong suit. Actually, I’m not sure we had a strong suit. But, by the afternoon, we had two posts, firmly attached to the floor, and a center beam laid from the east to the west wall, nailed in place at each end and where it met the posts. It looked like the slant of the beam matched the slant of the walls, but we wouldn’t know for sure until we started nailing our rafters into place.
We had two twelve-footers left, and we laid those across, evenly spaced, and nailed them down. They were almost flat, which was close enough for us. The rest of the rafters would be six-footers, meeting at the center beam.
It was awkward work, because none of us were very tall, and we only had one step ladder, courtesy of Karl. It was made more awkward by the fact that we had put the cots in the cabin already, along with anything else that wouldn’t easily go down the entrance tunnel, so the space was already crowded. On the other hand, when we had more rafters in place, we could crawl out onto the rafters, which easily held our weight.
We had our plywood for the roof, and the weather had been dry, which was a big help. I was anxious to get the wood laid down while the weather held, and Win, the most enthusiastic of the crew, was going on vacation with his family the next week. So we pushed through, and we got our plywood sheets nailed down on Friday of that week. I was really happy about that, because the walls had almost totally dried out from the soaking they had gotten, and now we had a chance to get the cabin covered before it rained again.
It was just Tom and Rollo and me for the next few days, although Karl showed up on Sunday. We taped over all the joints between the plywood sheets, and started laying down the tarpaper. When Karl showed up Sunday, he showed us how to put the metal flashing he had brought us on the edges. It was the only time he actually helped us with the construction, and it was a big help.
We were able to start nailing down the asphalt shingles Monday morning, and that went pretty quickly. By early afternoon, with black clouds looming overhead, the three of us were able to stand back and look at a completely roofed- over cabin. As the raindrops started to fall, we scrambled down the entrance tunnel and sat happily in our cabin, listening to the rain and watching anxiously for leaks. Not a drop of rain came through.
That week was kind of rainy again, and some of the kids were gone, so we didn’t get much done. We felt like we had accomplished a miracle, and we kind of basked in the glory for a while. Win was back from vacation on the weekend, and the two of us went out on Sunday after church to look things over.
It was his first look at the roofed-over cabin, and he was impressed and delighted. We set up the cots, and realized for the first time how crowded it was going to be, at least while we were sleeping. We certainly couldn’t make the space any bigger, so there was nothing to be done about it. When the cots were folded up and leaned against the walls, it wasn’t too bad. We visualized what we were going to need, and we went outside to sit on the ledge, where it was nice and sunny, and talk it out over a bag of chips and a couple of sodas.
We were going to need furniture of some kind; at least a table and some chairs. We thought we could hit the Parish Hall again for some folding chairs. It was risky; not because we were afraid of getting caught, but because, unlike the cots and blankets, the chairs were actually used, so they might be missed. Still, we had to have them.
A table was going to be more difficult. Even a cheap folding card table was too big to get down the entrance tunnel, and we hadn’t thought about a table before we put the roof on. We had some one by six planks, and more two by fours, which we would have to cut into short enough pieces to get them in, and we would have to settle for something thrown together with those.
Light was going to be an issue, of course. We had one really nice battery-powered lantern that Karl had found in one of the deer camps. That was going to be essential for nighttime trips to the latrine, and it would be great if we could get another one. We had two kerosene lanterns as well, two flashlights, and about a thousand votive candles, thanks again to the Catholic Church. Spare batteries, kerosene, and matches were going to be priorities to stock up on.
The two things we had to get done right away, before we covered the cabin over with dirt, were the entrance and our ventilation system. The entrance tunnel was fine; it was long enough, wide enough, and quite sturdy. But we needed a hinged door at each end. Ventilation would be important, especially when we were using the camp stove.
Karl had liberated several pieces of this new plastic piping from the construction depot behind Villa Drive. It was supposed to replace metal water pipes for new houses, and when he showed it to us, I thought it would be perfect for our ventilation system. We had cut two holes in the north wall before we dropped it in, where I thought the pipes should be. One was lower down, right beside the entrance tunnel, and the other was about at the midpoint of the wall, in the upper half.
The plan was that one pipe would run beside the entrance tunnel, with its upper end in the crevice, where no one could see it, and the other would go straight up the outside of the north wall, then turn and run horizontally under the spruce hedge. Karl had provided us with several “elbow” pieces to join the sections of pipe together.
So Win and I made a plan for tomorrow, not knowing exactly who would show up, but with a good idea of what we wanted to get done.