Journal: November 4, 2010 – Roof Complete

I got that streak of nice weather I’d been hoping for, and I managed to finish the roof! Yay! The Ondura panels turned out to be pretty easy to install. The only annoying part was that I had to cut up a panel to make narrow strips because I’d made the rafters too long, and ended up with a few inches short at the ridge. Fortunately, those panels are pretty easy to cut; I’d imagine tin roofing would be a little harder to slice up. The biggest challenge, actually, was figuring out how to get up onto the ridge to lay down the ridge caps once I’d put down all the panels. I was hoping I’d be able to just climb up the gables, but that turned out to be a bit scary (not so much the climbing, but going from the gables to the ridge, with nothing to grab but loose roofing panels), so I ended up improvising some footholds by bolting on some small scrap 1x4s through the roofing panels down to the purlins. I was a little weary of poking more holes through the roofing, but I can just fill them in with caulk later, so I don’t think it’ll be a big issue.

So, the roof’s all covered up, but I’m trying to decide what else to do while I have relatively easy access to the roof. One thing I’m concerned about is that gap between the corrugated panels and the ridge caps. On the one hand, it provides ventilation, allowing warm air trapped between the roofing panels and insulation boards to escape. On the other hand, moisture may get blown in there by the wind if there’s a storm, and though the moisture shouldn’t penetrate far, it still might be an issue. I’m also trying to decide if I want to put down mounting brackets for my solar panels while I’m up there. The problem is, I haven’t quite decided whether I want to mount my solar panels up there in the first place. The roof does get decent exposure since it rises above the shadows cast by many of the trees, but the panels would be fixed, so I won’t be able to get as much power as I would if the panels were on trackers. But then, my solar panels are currently out in a clearing far away from the hut, and mounting the panels up on the roof will give me power in the hut, which would be nice…

Anyway, for now, I’m simply happy to get the roof done. Sure, it took 2 months, but then, I did manage to do the entire roof all by myself, so that’s something to feel good about. Now I just need to get the rest of the hut wrapped up before it gets too cold.

Journal: October 28th, 2010

It’s gotten cold. I got back from the city on Tuesday night, and was greeted to sub-freezing temperatures for the first time in a while. It was 28F when I went to bed, so it probably got down to the mid-20s later on. I’m still sleeping in a tent, but fortunately, unlike last year, I have a nice thick duvet (and a sleeping bag liner) to keep me warm and comfy. Unfortunately, my tent is starting to leak, so when it’s pouring rain outside, it gets rather damp and miserable inside.

On the plus side, this cold, wet misery makes for great motivation to work on Hut 2.0. Yesterday morning, I finished putting up the remaining purlins on the north-facing half of the roof before menacing clouds rolled in, forcing me to tarp up the roof again. Rain didn’t actually materialize until late last night, but this morning, I woke up to an unexpectedly bright and beautiful day, which I utilized to work on the northern-half of the roof. I got the insulation boards down, secured the purlins, and taped up the gap between the insulation boards up on the ridge. Next, I have some OSB strips I want to put down on the ridge, and after that, all that’ll remain is the Ondura roofing panels and ridge cap. If I could get two or three more days of decent weather, I’ll be done with the roof for good. After that, I’ll cover up the gables and knee walls, install the 3 windows in the loft, and then I can take down the scaffolding. I’m planning on putting up a tarp canopy-skirt all around the structure, so that I can work on the lower level through rain or snow. All told, I need 7 to 10 more days of decent weather, before I can switch to all-weather construction. It’s been raining 5 days a week for the last two weeks, but let’s hope I get a break.

Depending on how long Hut 2.0 takes to finish, I’m also considering taking a few days to upgrade Hut 1.0, so that I can put my mattress in it and sleep in there instead of the tent. I’ll need to take down the existing loft, put in a bigger bed, move the “kitchen” to the opposite corner, then put up a bunch of shelves to stow away all the materiel that I have piled up on the floor. While I’m at it, I might wrap up the hut with insulation boards. Even without insulation (except for on the roof), my body heat and a few candles, and occasionally using the stove to boil water or cook, is enough to keep the temperature about 20F warmer than outside. So, some R-5 polyiso boards wrapping up the exterior might go a long ways. On the other hand, it might be better to endure a few weeks of misery and focus my time, energy and money on Hut 2.0. After all, if Hut 1.1 proves to be too comfy, I might never finish Hut 2.0…

All in all, other than the wet and the cold, life’s not too bad. I’m enjoying the smells and colors that the rain accentuates, at least when it’s not actually raining and I can be outside. The crisp autumnal air reminds me of my childhood days in Germany, when I’d run around in the woods until it got too dark, and my hands went numb from the cold. Of course, back then, I had a warm home to go back to. But, I remind myself that once Hut 2.0 is done, I’ll be able to stretch out in front of a warm stove, and that’s something to look forward to.

Update Nov. 1st – Weather for this coming week looks pretty clear, so I’m pretty optimistic the roof will finally get done. Also, a friend is coming to visit next week, and will be staying for a while. With her help, hopefully the pace of construction will go up…

Hut 2.0 Roof Progress

The weather cooperated this week and gave me a few beautiful warm days, which I took advantage of to continue work on the roof. I got all the sheathing up, the ridge sealed up, and rigid insulation boards laid down on one side. I need a couple more purlins and then Ondura roofing panels will be ready to go up. I kind of screwed up with the measurements, so the gap between the roofing panels at the ridge might be a couple inches too wide for the ridge caps. Annoying, but I think I know how to fix the problem.

Also, I got a little worried about falling off the roof, so I decided to start tying myself in while working up there. I wanted to get my climbing harness out of storage, but never got around to it. So, instead, I improvised a harness out of a length of nylon strapping I bought at WalMart. I learned this trick from my dad when I was a teenager and went rock climbing with him one time. You basically take a loop of nylon tape, wrap it around your butt, then reach down and grab one of the lengths forward from between your legs. Put a carabiner through all 3 loops, and you have yourself a harness. Every time I climb onto the roof, I clip myself into a rope that’s tied off on the other end with enough slack to get me down to the scaffolding, but not all the way to the ground. At least, that’s the theory…

(I have more photos over on Flickr.)

Fork in the Road

The day of reckoning came sooner than expected. I ran out of money. My checking account was practically empty, and my credit cards maxed out. It was a day I knew was coming, but it happened a little sooner than I’d anticipated due to some sudden and unexpected expenditures. So, I activated my backup plan, which was to jail-break some funds I’d locked away in a CD, but things got complicated when the banker gave me misleading information, then flat-out wrong information, then explained that to get my money, I’d have to run around in a circle eleven times, bark thrice, do a 350 degree back flip, and cough up $6000 first.

Anyway, with the help of some friends, it looks like I’m going to be able to get my money out, but only enough to last me a couple of months. Which is to say, I got a two month extension on my day of reckoning. But it’ll come back, and hopefully I’ll have a better plan the next time I come to this juncture.

It’s not that I haven’t been thinking about this problem. In fact, I’ve put a lot of thought into my next steps, but I simply haven’t been able to make a decision. This is a new phenomenon for me. My life has always been guided one way or another, and whenever I came to a fork in the road, I somehow always knew what the next step should be. Sure, I’ve had some tough decisions to make, like in 2005 when I had those two enticing job offers, one from this big company called Yahoo, and another from this pimple-faced Harvard dropout named Mark Zuckerburg who wanted me to come work on this little website called TheFacebook.com. But, as difficult as that was, I knew in my heart which option I wanted to take.

Now, I’ve got options, and I’m not entirely sure where my heart is. So, let’s turn my life into a little Choose-Your-Adventure game, shall we? What, dear readers, do you think should happen next in my life, and by extension, to this blog?

Here are the options (in no particular order):

  • Adventure A: Go back to work full time. Part of the problem right now is that my expenses are way too high. I’m still making monthly payments on my land, as well as my car, then there’s health insurance, car insurance, phone bills, credit card bills, etc, etc. All told, I need over $1200 per month just to keep up with my bills, and that’s not including food and gas. Yes, it’s a sad state of affairs, especially for someone living a fairly frugal lifestyle in the woods, but that is the truth. However, I could make enough as a software engineer, so that if I went back to work full-time, I’d be able to pay off all my debt and save up some, in just a year or two. Once my recurring expenditures have come down to something more reasonable, I can come back to the woods, and spend a year or two without worrying about money. Of course, that would still only be a temporary option. Though not impossible in Silicon Valley, it’s highly unlikely that I’d be able to make enough money to last me a life time, which means I’d eventually need to find some way to make money again. I also left Silicon Valley cube farms for a reason, and I don’t know if I can stand going back for a year or two of office life without losing my soul.
  • Adventure B: Stay on my property for the winter. When I first started thinking about my land-ventures, my plan was to buy land, spend a year on it, then write a book about my experiences. I’ve been up here now for the better part of this year since late-Spring. If I could stay the winter, that would constitute more or less a year, and I might have enough material for a book. At the very least, I’ll have more material for this blog, which I won’t have if I left again for the winter.

    As far as adventures go, staying here for the winter seems like a pretty good one. It’ll be quite a challenge, and it seems like the odds are pretty good that I’ll be miserable for the better part of the colder months, but it’ll be an interesting experience nonetheless. Besides, it’s the only way to get a realistic view of conditions during the winter, and unquestionably, there is much to be learned. There’s also the satisfaction of being able to say “I live on my property for a year.” As it stands, I can only claim to have spent the nice warmer months here, and that’s pretty lame.

    The problem, of course, is that I’m out of money. Or will be out of money again probably around December. Additionally, I’d need to buy more gear to survive the winter reasonably comfortably, so I’d need even more money. One option is to try and find some contract work that I can do while on my property, but that’s a little iffy. While I can get decent internet up here through Verizon’s wireless network, I’m not sure how much power I’ll have over the winter. The days will be short and sunny days will be far and few between, so I won’t be able to generate as much solar power. I’d probably also get a wind generator, but those obviously only work if there’s good wind. Most contract jobs also require some face-time with the clients, but I could conceivably get snowed in for weeks at a time. The paved road will be kept plowed, but I have no idea what kind of condition the dirt road that leads from my camp to the paved road will be in.

    One possibility is to do some contract work full-time for a month or two. With the rates I get, I can probably earn enough to last me several months that way, and if the timing works out, I can still spend most of the colder months here. Naturally, this option depends on finding the right gig, and has the same problem as Adventure A, in that I’ll come back to where I am now in a matter of months. While I may be able to write a book, it would be foolish of me to assume that I’d find a publisher, much less that I’d make any money off of it.

  • Adventure C: Enlist in the Air National Guard, followed by career change. Now for something completely different, as Monty Python would say. I started looking into the Air Guard a year ago, when I was in a somewhat similar situation as I find myself in now, and saw a recruitment billboard for the 129th Rescue Wing while driving up Highway 101. I must’ve driven past that billboard hundreds of times when I lived and worked in Silicon Valley. In fact, I’d noticed the sign before, too, though I’d always been happily and gainfully employed, and so never gave it much attention. This time, it was different.

    Having never outgrown my boyish fascination with things military, I’ve always been interested in the armed forces. But being something of a pacifist, I’d never considered a career in uniform, especially not with an organization embroiled in two conflicts I don’t agree with. Besides, I was massively obese for most of my adolescent years, then I became a computer nerd and spent a decade sitting on my ass in front of the computer screen, and it just didn’t seem like I’d have the brawn to get through military training. But as I passed that sign, one late Autumn day last year, something felt different.

    For starters, the billboard depicts an HH-60G PaveHawk helicopter plucking someone out of the water. Rescue. Rescue is good, even for pacifists. Then another part of my brain piped up saying “You always did love helicopters.” I drove on in silence. “Wasn’t doing aircraft maintenance one of your childhood dreams?” Quipped my brain, suggestively. “You just spent months in the woods. You’re pretty fit. Probably about as fit as you’d ever be.” My brain had a point. I was intrigued.

    I did a little research online, and learned that the Air Guard works very differently to the regular Air Force. For starters, National Guard units belong to individual states, unless loaned to the federal government. With the Air Guard, you get to choose your unit and occupation when enlisting, so I’d be reasonably sure that I wouldn’t end up a door gunner in Alabama, for instance. Guardsmen (and -women) serve one weekend a month, plus two weeks a year, and can lead mostly normal civilian lives the rest of the time. The 129th had an opening in helicopter maintenance. The job came with a $20k bonus.

    So one warm day in December last year, I walked into their nondescript recruitment office located just a couple of blocks from the restaurants and cafes in downtown Mountain View bustling with Silicon Valley tech workers on lunch break. The recruiters were happy to see me. For starters, I wasn’t obese (“it’s rare these days” they explained), I had a college degree (two pay-ranks’ promotion off the bat), and no known medical conditions (they suggested I keep quiet about the braces behind my lower teeth). But, ultimately, I didn’t continue with the process then because the helicopter maintenance job I’d wanted had just been filled. They had an opening in engine maintenance, and though I find aircraft engines to be fascinating and can explain the difference between turbojet, turbofan and turboshaft engines, I ultimately didn’t want to be an engine geek; I like helicopters, and I want to learn all about them, not just the engines.

    Over the past year, I’ve continued to think about this option. It’s compelling in a lot of ways. If nothing else, it’s something completely different, and I think it could be a challenging but interesting experience. If I time things right, I could let Uncle Sam feed, shelter and clothe me during the colder months while I’m in training. If they’re still giving $20k bonuses, that’d go a long ways towards paying off my debt, and once I’m out of training I’d also secure 4 days pay a month (they pay double-time) thereafter. I could also use the education benefits to go back to school, and retrain for a career change in my civilian life. Military training might also teach me skills that could help me get a job as a seasonal firefighter near my property, since that’s basically the only well paying job around here (besides, who wouldn’t want to be a firefighter?).

    So, why haven’t I enlisted yet? The short answer is, fear. And it’s not the fear of being deployed, which is what my friends seem to worry about. Rather, it’s fear of the unknown. The fear of being thrust into a foreign culture. The fear of commitment. There’s also the fear of losing my individual freedom, especially during the 5-6 months of training. Then there’s the fear of failure and ridicule — that I’d show up and they’d laugh at me and say I’m too short, old and weak… and worse, that they’d be right. But then, I hate the feeling of succumbing to my fears, of letting my unfounded worries prevent me from living. And while less of a consideration, the thought that enlisting would be looked upon unfavorably by those around me also weighs on me. I don’t generally let my friends and family tell me how to live, but it still takes an extra ounce of conviction to do something without the support of the people who are important to me. And on this one, I’m not sure I have that extra ounce.

When I quit my job at Google a year and a half ago, I thought, or wanted to think, that I’d return after a break. But as the months ticked by, it’s become clear to me that, as a software engineer, I’m like a racehorse with a broken leg; I may never race again. Sure, I can run in short stints, but a full-blown comeback with any chance of success is starting to seem less and less likely. Ironically, that makes any plan that involves making money as a software engineer unsustainable in the long run. Of the three options above, the one that may seem the most brash –enlisting– seems like the best option in the long run because, in addition to providing short term employment, it also has the potential to fund, or otherwise prepare me for, what I probably need: a career change. But, no doubt, it’s also the scariest and most controversial option, hence the indecision.

Any thoughts?

Hut Finishin’ 2.0: Oct 28 – Nov 1

Attention all hut builders! If you missed out on Hut Raising 2.0, this is your last chance to get some hut building action in Serenity Valley before the season ends! Hut Finishing 2.0 will be Oct 28 through Nov 1st.

If you’d like to come, drop me an email, or post a comment below (and be sure to fill in the email address field).

Note: It’s been pretty rainy lately up on Serenity Valley, and with temperatures dropping, conditions can get miserable if the weather is uncooperative. Hut Raising 2.0 may be cancelled if inclement weather is forecasted.

Journal: October 1st, 2010

I just had a delicious meal of turkey burgers with a side of corn on the cob fresh off the garden. The burger, a turkey cheese burger to be precise, was quite epic. I used smoked gouda cheese, and for fixin’s, had cucumber fresh off the vine, onions, and avocado. Mmmm.

A few years ago, I stopped eating beef (save for the occasional lapses) for environmental reasons, and started making turkey burgers whenever I felt like having a burger. Rather than buy pre-made burger patties, I make them from scratch, since it’s so easy (and much cheaper). The basic “recipe” I use is as follows:

  • 1 ~ 1.5lb ground turkey
  • 1 ~ 2 slices of bread
  • a bit of milk (dairy, or soy/almond/donkey milk)
  • 1 egg
  • 1/4 – 1/2 finely chopped onion
  • seasoning to taste
  • a bit of oil

I first tear up the bread in a little bowl, and pour in just enough milk to soak the bread and make it soft. The bread-milk mush then gets mixed into the ground turkey and all the other ingredients in a bowl. Make patties, then cook in a pan or grill. When grilling, it helps to make the patties before hand and freeze them. The frozen patties will retain their shape longer, while raw patties might ooze through the grills before they’ve had a chance to cook and harden. Ground turkey by itself tends to be leaner than ground beef, so you need binding to keep it from falling apart, hence the bread, egg and onion. I’m sure there are other bindings that could be used, and if you could find fatty ground turkey, that might not be necessary either.

***

In other news, I’ve resumed work on Hut 2.0 after a 3 week hiatus which was spent mostly in San Francisco. Now, I’m back, and the weather’s cleared up nicely, so I’m making slow but steady progress again. I’m still working on the roof, and over the last couple of days, got some OSB sheets up. Before I could get to the roof, I had to put up some scaffolding, which consists of four 2x4x16s nailed onto my 4×4 posts about 3 feet below the eaves, with a 2x6x16 laid across the 2x4s parallel to the eaves about 2 ft off the wall. The hardest part of it all is getting the OSB up there. Each sheet weighs probably 40lb, is 4 feet wide and is longer than I am tall, so it’s a bit unwieldy to say the least. I got one sheet up by brute forcing it up the ladder and tossing it onto the rafters. But that required me to go up the ladder without my hands, the board resting partially on my head and shoulder, then heave it with all my might over the eaves onto the rafters (I’d attached stoppers to the ends of a couple of rafters to keep the sheet from sliding off, once I got it up there). I did it once, but didn’t think I could do that again, much less 7 more times. Fortunately, once I had the scaffolding up, I found that I could toss the boards onto the scaffolding, and avoid the part where I climb a ladder practically blind and handless. Unfortunately, due to the size of the boards and the height of the scaffolding (over 8ft from the ground), I can’t exactly see the scaffolding when I’m behind the board and trying to lift it up. So I just have to toss it up with a heavy oompf, then step away in case the board fails to land on the scaffolding and decides to come back to earth.

Yup. I’m having fun.

In related news, I decided to change the location of my door, based on something I read in an architecture book. According to my original plan, my hut was supposed to look something like this (looking down from above):

  ------------------
  \                 |    \ = door
  |                +|    + = ladder to loft
  |                 |
  ------------------

The problem with this layout is that, if I wanted to keep a clear path between the door and the ladder (so that I could get down from the loft and out the door in a hurry, if I had to), that path would traverse the length of the hut and kill a lot of space.

Instead, I decided to do something like this:

  ------------------
  |                 |    \ = door
  |                +|    + = ladder to loft
  |                 |
  ---------------- \

The door is now right next to the ladder, which solves the oh-shit-get-out-quick problem, and also leaves the rest of the space completely open.

Speaking of emergency egress, the loft is actually open on both ends. While the ladder will only be on one end, I could in theory also climb off the loft on the other end, and go out a window, if, for instance, a big bad wolf was blocking the door.

***

I’ve run into power issues. Again.

My 100W solar panel, mounted on the solar tracker, is generating enough power to more than cover my needs. But, this time, it’s not that I don’t have enough power, but rather, I don’t have enough AC power to recharge the 18V batteries that run my circular saw. I’ve been plugging the 18V wall charger into a 200W inverter, which in turn was plugged into one of my 12V batteries (which in turn were charged from solar panels). But my 200W inverter inexplicably stopped working recently, leaving me only with a 150W inverter. The 150W inverter will run the 18V wall charger if it’s plugged into my car with the engine running (probably because my 40 Amp alternator provides more than enough 13 Volt power), but not off my 12V battery even when it’s full AND my solar panel is pumping in an additional 5 Amps at 13 Volts (seeing how the charger is rated at 2 Amps @ 120 Volts, or 240 Watts, I guess that’s not surprising). So, basically, I can’t recharge my saw batteries unless I run my car engine for the hour or so it takes, and that’s not an acceptable solution.

My 18V batteries should be good for another day or two, but after that, I’m going to have to go to town and buy either a car charger, or another inverter. Last time I checked, a car charger for the DeWalt 18V batteries cost over $100, so an inverter would actually be cheaper, and in some ways, more versatile. The car charger would be more efficient, since it would eliminate any inefficiencies incurred by the inverter, but then, I have a surplus of power right now (and a shortage of money), so I think I’ll just get a cheap inverter.

More thoughts on insulation

I got a lot of great comments on my recent post on insulation, so I thought I’d write another post to summarize some of the common issues that have been pointed out, and to also elaborate on my plan.

Labor

A few readers pointed out the higher labor cost of gathering more firewood. I said in my post that I was ignoring that, but I think it deserves a few more words…

Economists call it opportunity cost. When I was in college, students would queue up at one of the campus coffee shops, which served milkshakes for a dollar on Wednesdays. Obviously, this tradition, knowns as “Shake Day”, was a popular diversion among students who would wait in these long lines with their friends, socializing (or simply pondering silently in solitude) as they waited for their tiny cup of sugary molten goop. An Economics professor once criticized this tradition, by invoking the concept of opportunity cost. The professor argued that the cost of waiting in line outweighed the potential upside of buying a shake for a dollar. Instead, presumably, students should be doing homework to prepare for high salaried careers, or perhaps be peddling their time to low-wage campus jobs for $10/hour.

Of course, this “criticism” wasn’t entirely serious (I hope), but in my eyes, it represented a common perspective in our society that I find troublesome, as it is the very reason we have lots of fat wealthy people who are unhappy and unhealthy. Yes, I can be sitting at a desk, selling my time for $125/hour (or more). But if that’s what I wanted, I wouldn’t be living in the woods. For me, an excuse to get outside, be in the woods, and do a little physical work, is worth far more than what money can buy. More generally, gathering my own fuel makes me more aware of my resource consumption, and having to go out to the woods to gather fuel will also give me better insight into how quickly (or slowly) I am depleting the resources I have, and in turn, get a better assessment of how sustainable (or unsustainable) my lifestyle is.

And yes, it is also entirely possible that I’ll decide at some point that I’d rather spend less time gathering wood. If that’s the case, I’ll change something, but until I try it, I won’t know.

Insulation is for summer too

I focused mostly on how insulation will impact my life in the woods should I stay for the winter, but, of course, insulation matters in the summer too. However, as far as I understand, insulation in the winter and in the summer are actually two different problems.

In the winter, the goal is to keep the cold air outside, from cooling down the interior. Heat is transfered mostly through conduction and convection. That is, the warm air inside heats up the structure’s sufaces, which in turn conduct (and radiate) heat to the outside cold. Or, cold air gets into the structure, displacing warm air. So the common solutions are to use insulation materials that prevent conduction, like foam and batt insulation, and prevent air exchange.

In the summer, the goal is to keep the interior cool, but the main problem isn’t the warm air outside, but rather direct radiant heat from the sun. Up in my area, the air is very dry in the summer, and at 4200ft elevation, the air stays fairly cool most of the time. But the sun beats down relentlessly, heating anything it touches. So the goal is to reflect that heat away from the structure, and to prevent it from heating up the surfaces. To reflect radiant heat, you don’t need thick batt insulation; a coat of white paint, or shiny material like mylar will do the job quite well.

Granted, from what I understand, most homes don’t make a distinction between the different heat transfer characteristics. And indeed, you don’t have to. In the summer, you could let the sun heat up your roof, and then prevent that heat from getting conducted inside by using a ton of batt insulation in the roof and attic. That way, you’re dealing with conduction in the summer and winter, and can use the same insulation for both scenarios. The kind of insulation that works well in the winter can also be beneficial in the summer if you want to make efficient use of air conditioning (which I don’t have), or want to keep the structure from heating up during the day, once it has been cooled at night.

In my particular case, since I am trying to minimize insulation, I plan on trying to reflect sun as much as possible during the summer, instead of relying on insulation. I’m planning on buying light-colored roofing panels, and also lay down a layer of mylar (which I have l left over from Hut 1.0) under the roofing panels to keep the roof from getting too warm in the first place. I won’t be able to expect the structure to be any cooler than the ambient shade temperature, but that’s good enough for me (for now). If I need additional cooling, I might make a swamp cooler, but if this summer was fairly typical, I probably won’t need it for more than a few weeks each summer.

Moisture

Another issue that I didn’t really address is moisture/condensation. I considered using housewrap, but decided instead to seal up the cabin through other means (namely, by taping up seams between the exterior insulation boards, and by using spray foam insulation and caulk). However, that still leaves the issue of moisture, since sealing up the cabin will simply keep moisture from getting out, which in turn could cause condensation and all sorts of other problems.

Wood stoves too hot?

A couple of commenters also pointed out that a wood burning stove might get too hot. I guess this sort of depends on how big/hot of a stove I get, but right now, I’m leaning towards getting an old fashioned cast iron stove from the local antique shop. I have no idea how much heat those things give off, but I could see how it could get kind of warm.

An Idea

So, it seems like I have two open problems: controlling moisture, and keeping the cabin from getting too hot.

Fortunately, there’s a common answer to both problems: ventilation. Pumping fresh dry air in and moist air out solves the condensation problem, and will probably help with the heat problem too. The plan is to have an air intake (possibly with a small 12V fan) near the stove, so that the air that gets sucked in gets heated immediately. The idea is to pump more air into the cabin than the stove needs, and thereby create an over-pressure (this will also prevent cold air from getting in from undesirable gaps). I’ll have a vent at the top of the hut, where hot moist air gets pushed out. Most of this air movement will happen by convection, since the cold fresh air will rise once it gets warmed by the stove.

I should only need to actively vent air when I’m actually producing lots of moisture, for instance, when I’m cooking or drying wet clothes. At night, I’ll probably stop the air exchange to conserve heat, and while I’ll generate some moisture, I could probably dry out the interior again the next morning by getting the stove going and turning on the fans (or by opening the windows if it’s warm enough). If I decide that I need more insulation, I can always fill in the wall cavities, which I plan on leaving open for now. Adding a moisture barrier later won’t be an option, but hey, there’s always Hut 3.0.

Thoughts on insulation

When it comes to insulation, more is better. Or so they say. Of course, I’m always skeptical when people say “more is better.” More may be better in some ways, but there’s always a cost to having more, and it turns out you usually can get away with less. But how much is enough? That is what I want to know.

I’ve been doing some research on insulation, and as it turns out, it’s a rather complicated subject. On the one hand, there’s this deceptively simple formula:

H = ( 1 / R) x A x T
H : heat loss in BTU/hour
R : R-value
A : surface area in square ft
T : temperature difference in Fahrenheit

Using this formula, I can calculate the theoretical heat loss of my cabin. For instance, Hut 2.0 will have a surface area of around 750 square ft, and if I manage to wrap it all up with R-10, and there’s a 50F temperature difference between the interior and exterior, I can expect to lose (1/10) x 750 x 50 = 3750BTU/hour. That doesn’t sound like much. For instance, even a tiny stove designed for boats is rated at 3000 – 8000BTU. In fact, I can even go down to R-5, and will be under 8000BTU/hour.

The reality, of course, isn’t so simple. I just assumed a single R-value for the entire structure, but the reality is that windows will have a much lower R-value, the door another value, and perhaps the walls, floor, roof will all have different values too. On top of that, R-values give you an idea of how slowly heat will transfer through surfaces, but that only accounts for a fraction of actual heat exchange. In a structure, one huge source of heat loss is through air exchange. For ventilation, outside air needs to be brought in, and that necessarily displaces internal air. At the very least, in order to use a stove, I’d need to suck in enough cold air to supply oxygen for the fire (and myself). So the kind of calculation I did above is useful for setting a baseline, that is, I know my heat loss won’t be any less than the calculated figure, but doesn’t produce anywhere near an accurate or realistic number.

On the other hand, I can’t afford to go and buy tons of insulation. Also, the structure is tiny as it is, so to maximize space, I’d like to keep the wall cavities open instead of filling them in with insulation. There’s also the environmental cost too, since most common forms of insulation are made of toxic materials, or at least materials that are non-biodegradable and difficult to recycle. There are “green” insulation options, but as batt or blown insulation materials, and not rigid boards that I can use. I might get away with less insulation if I decrease air exchange by using housewrap, but housewrap is made of plastic, so that’s less than ideal in my opinion. But then, if I really care about green materials, I should probably be building a straw-bale structure, so perhaps there are limits to how green (or warm) of a structure I can build out of timber framing.

My situation is also different to those of typical homes, because I live in the woods and have a practically infinite and renewable source of firewood. For me, firewood is free, so the cost of heating is also free (if I ignore labor, which I do). From an ecological perspective, I have no qualms burning dry dead wood on my property, since if I weren’t burning the fuel, a natural forest fire very well may instead. So while typical houses may be able to justify the financial and ecological cost of additional insulation by factoring in the cost of heating, for me, the cost of insulation is just that: a cost. The only consideration I have, is to make sure that my heat loss doesn’t outstrip my heating option. Though, if that’s all I’m worried about, I think an old fashioned cast iron stove that the local antique store sells for a little over $100 will probably keep my hut warm either way.

So that was a rather long way to say, I’m going to go light on insulation, and instead depend on good heating to stay warm. Stay tuned to find out how that works out come winter (assuming I stick around for winter, which isn’t yet certain).

The Issue of Rain Water Catchment

Hardly a week goes by without someone suggesting that I set up some rain barrels and capture some rain water. I had a similar notion when I first got the land last year, but I’ve since discarded it as being mostly unfeasible. But, since it keeps coming up, I figured I’d write a post describing why it’s probably not worth the trouble, at least for now.

At first glance, capturing rain water seems like a simple and obvious idea, given my lack of any other local water source. The area I’m in gets over 30 inches of precipitation a year, mostly between the months of October and April. During the warmer months, though, it’s generally very dry. This year has been a bit of an exception, with two very heavy days of rain so far already, but the average precipitation for the whole month of August is less than a third of an inch (although, I suspect the median rainfall for the month is more like zero, with exceptions every few years bringing up the mean).

So, what’s wrong with rain water catchment? The main problem is that most of the precipitation comes down during the colder months, and when I say colder months, I mean freezing months. Last year, lows in November were already falling to the low 20s F, and during the winter months, single digit lows are a regular occurrence. Last winter, it apparently got cold enough that a bottle of soda I’d left in the utility trailer had exploded, and some of my 2.5 gallon water containers had also been damaged. So, freezing weather creates, as far as I can foresee, two problems.

The first problem is that whatever container I collect water in has to be able to withstand freezing. The rain catcher I ended up using for my water tower specifically says that it needs to be emptied before frost. Other rain barrels and water tanks might be sturdier, but even if the container can contain freezing water without bursting, there’s still the fact that big chunks of ice could be difficult to work with if I wanted to use that water during the winter. One possible solution would be bury the water containers below the frostline, but that really complicates what should be a simple solution.

The second problem is that much of the precipitation comes down as snow. While rain can be captured off of my hut roof fairly easily, snow might be trickier since it obviously doesn’t flow the way water does. It’ll first accumulate on my roof, compact, maybe even freeze into ice, then eventually slide off in big heavy clumps. These clumps could come off the roof with sufficient force to either tear off the gutters, or fly right over them. I could create a surface with a nice gentle grade where snow can accumulate and stay without falling off as it gradually melts, but that still leaves the aforementioned issue of the water having to be stored somewhere where it won’t freeze.

These problems (and possible solutions) are further complicated by the amount of water I’d need to make the whole solution worthwhile. This summer, my garden used at least 25 gallons of water a week, and I used another 10 or so for drinking and bathing, for a total of about 35 gallons a week. If we say the dry season lasts 6 months (which is being generous), that’s 26 weeks X 35 gallons = 910 gallons. And trying to bury a 1000 gallon tank, even partially, is no easy task. Besides, a tank of that capacity isn’t exactly cheap; rule of thumb is roughly $1 per gallon for a good tank. On top of that, if I need to build a separate water catchment surface other than my roof, I’d need a surface over 80 square ft in area assuming I manage to capture 20 inches of precipitation, which is probably optimistic (the math: 20 inches ~= 50.8cm, which means 5.08 liters per 100 square cm, or 508 liters per square meter, so to get 1000 gallons or 3785 liters, I’d need 3785/508 ~= 7.45 square meters ~= 80 square feet). And that’s just to barely cover my current needs, which are pretty minimal. I guess I don’t have to try and cover all my needs this way, but seeing how little work it currently is for me to haul water from town, I’d want a replacement to be significantly less work to justify the up-front cost.

Of course, compared to digging a well, which could cost me over $10k, a 1000+ gallon water catchment solution could still be cheaper. So I wouldn’t dismiss the idea entirely, but nonetheless, I don’t think it’s quite as simple as most people seem to think it is. Or maybe I’m over-thinking this. Has anyone successfully setup water catchers in similar climates?

Journal: September 13, 2010

hut 2.0 with rafters

This past week since returning from Burning Man hasn’t been too productive. It rained all day Wednesday and well into Thursday morning, which, though highly unusual for this time of year, and did rob me of my ability to heat up my solar shower, did relieve me of any concerns about irrigating my garden for the week. On Thursday, the temperature barely rose above 60F, and dropped to around 36F at night. I was hoping the growing season would last longer, but it seems likely that I’ll see frost in the not too distant future.

The sun finally revealed itself unabated on Friday, warming temperatures up to a balmy 70F. I took advantage of the nice weather to start working on the rafters. I’m using 2x4s, most of which were donated to me by Camp Warp Zone at Burning Man, and were once part of their shade structure (I love recycling lumber, and in addition to those 2x4s, Hut 2.0 contains pieces of my old bed as well). One thing that had me thinking a bit, was the spacing between the rafters. Hut 1.0 has trusses that are a gaping 36″ apart, with a 30 degree pitch, and it seemed to have done okay for this past winter (not sure how much snowfall there was). My original design for Hut 2.0 had the rafters spaced 24″ apart, but I wondered if I should do 16″ instead. I did a little research online, and found some data that seem to indicate that 24″ would be sufficient for my relatively short span and 45 degree pitch, so I decided to stick to my plans. I also paid closer attention to the 2x4s as I was cutting them and putting them up, to try and keep knots that can compromise strength away from the bottom edge, which isn’t something I’ve always done (but probably should). All in all, the whole task ended up being much easier than I’d anticipated, even working alone. After cutting each rafter, I just had to stick rafter hangers on the top-end, hammer in the hurricane ties onto the top edge of the walls where the rafters would sit, then it was just a matter of hammering in the hangers into the roof beam. (Here’s a close-up of the rafters + knee walls.)

The next step is to add a couple of diagonals to the roof beam to firm it up, then start laying on the roofing. I’m just going to use OSB, then lay insulation on top of that, then Ondura roofing panels will go on top of that. I’m planning on completely finishing the roof before working on the lower parts of the hut, since it’ll be easier to hang scaffolding off the sides of the structure if the walls aren’t there yet. Also, now that it’s rained hard twice, it seems like getting the roof done sooner would generally be a good idea.

In other news, my garden is in full bloom. Yellow squash that were finger length when I left for Burning Man had ballooned into giant fruit almost the size of my forearm. I’ve also got more green beans, and a decently sized cucumber. I also have a few egg plants on the way, and giant green tomatoes that have stubbornly refused to ripen so far, but hopefully will soon. The corn has also matured, but the ears are quite small. Planting corn this year was definitely a mistake, though they did a great job of providing shade to the beans, which was a minor unexpected benefit (I alternated rows of corn and beans, and the rows of beans that got good shade from the corn did much better than the rows that were more exposed).

As winds start blowing (or raining) hints of autumn through my camp, I’m increasingly thinking more about my next steps. I’m starting to run low on cash, so I’m rapidly approaching a point where I need to make a decision. Do I go back to work in the city, or do I have other options? We’ll find out soon…

veggies!