From the woods in Maine...

Life at the Camp

October 7, 2010

Most mornings I wake up to Nate getting out of bed. He slinks out, walks to the kitchen area of the cabin, starts a pot of coffee and turns on the old radio. NPR streams into my half dreaming brain and I instinctively nestle deeper into the cocoon of comfortable blankets, not wanting to quite wake up just yet. I usually allow myself to remain in semi sleep until I feel my dreams sizzling away and then I remove myself from the nest of down and enter into the waking world.

We are only a few miles from the actual “town” of Denmark, Maine, but it doesn’t feel that way. Surrounded by trees of all kind it feels remote and removed from civilization out here at Camp Chase. My view is that of the White Mountains out in the distance and of course…trees, trees and more trees. It’s quite heavenly. I landed in New England at just the right time, autumn. A time of year when folks come from all over the coast to catch a glimpse of the seasonal fireworks display the dying leaves prepare. Bursts of bright yellow, orange and red are beginning to explode all around. Still premature I am only catching a sample of what’s around the bend, but still, it’s beautiful, and it’s something I haven’t had the pleasure of experiencing in quite some time having spent my autumns in Texas for the past few years. The air is brisk, the wind sends the brightly colored leaves wind floating to the ground and all I can smell is the smoke from the wood burning stove and the damp foliage on the ground, becoming compost. At night, when the sky is clear, thousands of stars twinkle, and I can hear coyotes howling to one another across the valley. No one else is around save Nate’s pop Pete when he’s down from Bar Harbor logging, and our somewhat neighbor, Jimbo, who comes up from Massachusetts on the weekend to enjoy his cabin down the road. There are other residents about a mile away, but they feel miles and miles away out here. I’ve lived in remote places, Yellowstone National Park, Big Bend National Park, and Glacier National Park, but in those places I was surrounded by people. Here, it is just Nate and I…waking each morning and falling asleep at night.

I am continually amazed at all that Nate has accomplished in only a few short months and primarily, alone. He’s managed to build himself quite a cabin. Where a thicket of forest used to be, a sustainable, comfortable structure now stands. There are two open rooms, a loft space and a mudroom. Since he has no running water, he’s built himself an outhouse that is surprisingly more pleasant than most bathrooms I’ve been in. he has a kitchen area, a stove, a large bed, a teak armoire, shelving, space for the massive amount of tools, a stainless steel Fridgedare and a woodstove to heat the interior. His kitchen is stocked with a variety of spices, and there are books and various artwork about. Once inside it’s hard to tell you are in the middle of nowhere. Eclectic music from Nate’s Itunes shuffle plays when the NPR is tuned out and well, you are in an actual living part of Nathan Scot Chase’s brain created full scale into a living environment. It’s lovely to say the very least, and I am honored to spend a month not only existing here with him, but helping him build, create and make this place more what he wants it to be.

Work is never done. There are endless errands to run to sustain living, and of course countless projects to be worked on. The trash goes to the town dump; the bottles and cans go tot the redemption center. We have to fill gallon jugs with drinkable water and water to cook with and clean ourselves with. Wood must be chopped, the space must be cleaned, and I have to go to town once a week to fulfill the requirements to receive unemployment. The cabin needs work as well, insulating for winter, building more shelves, clearing the yard to plant shrubs, finishing work on the roof, finishing the floor in one part of the structure, moving, improving, working, working, working. Nate always seems to have a list each morning. I have my own list in my head. I am here to help him but also to help myself . I have much clutter up in the old attic, too many memories, experiences and thoughts to sort through. Much changing to work on. I’ve spent my time roaming the States, not answering to any responsibility, for the most part doing as I wish and not necessarily working on anything creative or fundamental. I’m attempting to utilize this time to relax, be quiet, and listen to what it is I think my somewhat purpose is at this time in my life. I am getting older, my wants and needs are changing, and I am realizing that I do in fact, want some kind of stability in the near future. Of course this realization goes to battle with my inssesant want to travel, experience, enjoy not being tied down to a relationship and to fight the ever present challenge of adaption, What it comes down to frankly, is that I’m either getting too fucking old for this shit, or I need a rest. Camp Chase is a good test.

I’m sitting at the library. About to post this retarded blog. I promise…when I actually have time…and when I’m not freezing my ass off, I’ll write something better. It’s been a fucking time…I’m not sure whether to romanticize the hell out of my life anymore or feel like I’m just ignoring the obvious. Might as well have a blast. From the woods…catch you later dude.