Things to be expected on the Trail...

I had planned on going in to town to get my mail, buy fuel, propane and grab some of the much coveted halibut and other meat in mikes freezer.

The river was still probably very iffy further downstream, and there was still a lot of open water up here, in some area's. In any event I would be crossing the river and linking up with a series of trails on the other side, which would eventually take me to the road system. I would then park my snowmobile in a friends drive.

Jesse had mentioned that he was going to go down to the river and work on a snowmobile of his, that had broken down, and that he would tag along.

I told him I needed to get back, same day, so I wanted to get and early start. I told Jesse I wanted to head out by 9:30 am. The morning of the trip arrived. It was partly cloudy and in the low 20's.

Jesse showed up a bit early, which was fine with me. I had to take my bear dog Uljas with, as I still had the issue with Kaksi being in heat. I didn't want to leave her alone, but had little choice.

It was okay with him though as he loves going along.

We headed out and had no real trouble even though the trail was barely broken in. The only troubles I had was in some of the sharp bends he had put into the trail. My Arctic cat has a very long track, and my akio freight sled is quite long itself, making sharp bends difficult. Crossing the river was no big deal. The ice seemed solid and we crossed the channel and took to the gravel bars. We exited the river and took a winding trail that gave me a few more turning issues. Several times I had to jump off my machine and pull the ski's to get the cat going in the right direction. To get to the rest of the trail I had to cross a small stream that never freezes. Normally this little creek is just 20 feet wide or so, and just a few inches deep, and has a is easy to build a quick ramp. No so this year.

Jesse had warmed me that with all the temerature fluctuations the creek had frozen high, then as the levels lowered,and the temps rose it continued freezing on the way down. This resulted in about a four feet thick wall of ice that had been crudely hacked into steep ramps by Jesse his last trip up. The current had swept much of it away, on the last ramp, leaving a break which needed to be hacked back into a traversible ramp once again. We broke out the sledge hammers and in about twenty minutes had an acceptable ramp built. Jesse stayed on the far side ready to grab my ski, in the event I lost momentum. It wasn't needed but it was nice to have him there. His broken snowmobile was just a few yards away. He went to work on it and I continued down the trail. It was a pretty typical ride and was totally uneventful. I met two guy's heading to their weekend cabin up on carlson lake but that was about it. Uljas and I pulled into the trailhead parking lot about 11:15am.

Mike showed up a few minutes later and we continued on to Jeffs place which was just a few hundred yards further. As I was about turn down his road I spied him coming down the trail on his old Skidoo Tundra. Jeff was on his way up to his cabin to start opening it up for winter.Why he was using this Tundra was anybodies guess as he has five much newer, more comfortable machines to ride. His tundra, though a good machine, has no reverse and no headlights. We exchanged small talk quick, while I unloaded my sled. Mike and I then and made our way to all of my designated stops. Mail, propane, gasoline dogfood and some items out of my storage trailer. It didn't seem like it took very long, but by the time I got back to Jeff's driveway, it was 2:30pm. Later than I wanted.

As Mike and I pulled in I was suprised to see Jeff had returned already. He had some difficulty breaking trail through the unpacked snow, and since he had no headlight on his tundra (see!), he had to turn around. I hurried to repack my freight sled with all the new supplies and found there just was not enough room. I decided that two boxes of food and a 5 gallon can of gas had to stay behind. I put them back into the bed of Mikes truck. It was about then that I noticed my gloves were missing. I had evidentally left them at Mikes, which had been our last stop. I dug through my pack and retrieved my backup pair. I always bring a pack of basic survival items, including a complete change of clothing. Especially when you are traveling near water. Getting soaked out here is a death sentence. There will be no time to start a fire. I donned my gloves, said a quick so long, and headed out. It was nearly 3pm by the time I made the trailhead. Not good, as by 4:30pm it was going to be quite dark. I headed back down the trail at as good a clip as I could, without killing my poor dog, who was trailing behind. We were making

pretty good time, and the fact that it was a clear day helped, although I knew that the temps would continue to drop. We had traveled about 1/3 the way to the river when I looked back and noticed that a 5 gallon can of gas was missing from the rear deck on my machine. The ratchet strap was also missing, although one can had remained in the small enclosed platform. I was fairly upset, as in my haste I had not double checked my ratchets and straps. I made the decision to backtrack a bit just in case. This is not the first time I had lost something on the trail. In fact it is rather routine for people to drop items. There is a trail code (which may be vanishing), that folks will put your item off to the side of the trail and leave it. It was my hope that the code would hold true a bit longer. I could not get my freight sled to release from the hitch. Crossing the little creek had solidly frozen it in place. Regardless of the pounding with my fist or the kicking of my boot, it would not budge. I did manage to get my rig turned around, after a bit of work and some foul language. I went back a mile or so, much to my dogs dismay. I was getting really concerned over the diminshing light and decided to turn around and head for home. I couldn't afford to lose the gas, or the can, but I had much more important issues at the moment.

I don't like being caught out at night in these temps, and I had a LONG way to go yet. The creek and those ramps were weighing heavily on my mind. When we did arrive at the creek it was just after 4pm. Way to late in the day! I unloaded the sled. there was no way I was going to try and get that sled up that incline loaded full. So I carried two bags of dogfood, a 20lb cylinder of propane, 5 gallons of gas, a cooler full of meat and two new battery chargers across first. Actually I carried them all the way across to the far side of the creek. There was no way I was going to pick that stuff up twice! I had no difficulty crossing the first channel of the creek other than tipping my akio over, completely soaking what remained in it. It was of little matter as there was nothing fragile left in the sled. I got the machine and akio up on level ground and began reloading it. The soaking in the creek was going to freeze up my ropes for securing my load. There was a bit of light left, and I really hoping to get across the river. I was basically at the rivers edge, and all I had to do was negotiate a few sharp turns then cross the river. After that I was sure I'd be home free.

Well, it was not to be. The long track of my machine coupled with a long tongue on the freight sled continued to make cornering interesting. As I approached the first sharp turn I had to slow down to make the turn. As I did so the machine began to snowplow into the turn. I gave it some gas to try and get straightened out, but it didn't work.

If any of you have driven a narrow front end tractor in the snow, you know that steering in the front doesn't work that well. Unfortunately, there was no way for me to steer by braking. I could not just go straight forward due to some alders. I needed to make the turn. I was already off the machine, I gave it a bit more gas, trying to help steer it into the turn but it was no good. I reached down and tugged my ski's back onto the turn, but I has literally in the middle of the tight corner. After getting the machine straight, I applied the gas and tried to get the heavy load to move without digging down. that didn't work either. To compound matters, the tongue of the freight sled was sitting on what turned out to be a down cottonwood. As my track turned it dug until I was effectively high centered, by the tongue of the sled.

This was not working out well. I cursed the tight turn that was done out of expediency. By now it was nearly 5pm and getting very dark. As quickly as I could I unlashed the canvas on the sled and unloaded it. My hitch was solidly frozen shut from going through the creeks and with no real tools, I was unable to get it free. Even with the sled empty I was now to tired to lift the back of the machine out of the hole. I could see the track spin quite freely, turning nothing but air.

It was obvious I was done. My mitten gloves had frozen solid as had my pants from the knees down. I sat down to rest and used my last minutes on the phone to call Jeff and verify his coming up the next day. He said he was going to head out approximately 8am,  and that he would keep a lookout for my gas can. In mid conversation my phone beeped and shut off... no minutes left. With nothing left to do, I put what food I did not want to freeze in my pack. I struggled to put my snowshoes on. The bindings cotton laces had gotten wet in the creek crossing and were almost impossible to manipulate. I had thoughts of taking a shortcut across the river and linking up with my summer trail. A shorter but harder route as I would need to break trail. Once I put my headlamp on and turned it on, any thought of blazing a new trail across a river was out, as a weak circle of light shone on my feet. The cold had pulled my batteries down a bit. Uljas had aleady taken off anyhow. He always returns the same way we came. And that way was the winter hauling trail. It is a bit longer, but much more level with no real steep inclines. Which is the main reason we use it.

I took off following the trail, and my dog, onto the river. With the temps dropping, my mittens a useless mass of ice inside my pack, and no real light, I was in no great desire to bump into a moose in the dark. Pushing my hands deep down into the well insulated pockets of my surplus airforce artcic parka I trudged off. I was not cold or in any way uncomfortable, except maybe for the fatigue and annoying weight on my back. As I walked along in my dim circle of light, I could hear water running beneath my feet. A sound that I don't care to hear. However I was on a used trail, and my headlamp did not show any oveflow, so I felt okay.

Now this is not the first time I have had to walk back to the cabin in the dark. In fact I've done it enough, that I try and avoid it at all costs. But I have come up with the best way to get the job done. You trudge along. Don't focus on how far you have gone. Don't try and pick out landmarks. As long as you are on a trail you know, focus on thinking about anything but the trail. If you try and judge how far you have gone you will just get depressed. So I focused on what I would bring back down to the river the next day. Fortunately, there was no moon, so it was nice and dark the whole way. Had even the half moon risen, I would not have needed a headlamp at all.

Bringing Uljas along with me was a fluke, but I was glad it turned out that way. He led the way, and made sure no moose would cause any problems. As it was I never heard a peep out of him. Every so often I would see his eyes looking back at me, as he would sit and wait for slow, old dad to catch up.

Eventually I rounded a corner and realized I had turned off the winter trail and was now on my main trail. I had less than two miles, line of sight, to home. On I trudged, setting no land speed records in the least. At last I saw my little mountain looming in front of me. Uljas was already home, and I could hear my girl dog barking from inside the cabin. Looking at the thermometer as I unlocked the door, the temp read zero. My girl dog seemed very happy to see me, though I had left her alone all day. The cabin was frigid. My water jugs had frozen enough to be useless although the water in my stock pots did provide water.

I started a fire as quickly as I could. While the cabin warms quickly it took over han hour before I could stop shivering. My walk home was fine enough, but the minute I got in the cabin that all changed. I fired up the propane stove and started heating water. I was not able to carry any dog food back, so I had to make something for the dogs and me. I ended up cooking some pasta in chicken stock and a bit of spam. It wasn't much but it seemed to satisfy everybody, me included.

I gathered up the tools I wanted and an empty pack, and settled in for the rest of the night. It was 9pm when I got to my front door. It was 12:30 am by the time we had dinner and I was ready for tomorrow. My clothing was hung above the woodstove to dry and warm. I lay down on the bunk, and felt bones either falling into joint, or out of joint. It didn't really know or care which. I was not able to get comfortable, regardless of my position. Each was worse than the one before. I stared at the oil lamp and listened to the radio for awhile. About 3:30am I dozed off a bit. My departure time came too early. By 7am I was up and getting ready. By 7:45am Uljas and I were heading back to the river.

The half moon had risen about midnight and was still up so I could see quite well without the headlamp. The pack on my back was empty except for a butane torch, several vise grips and channel locks and a hammer. In my hands was a sod shovel. This time we took the shortcut I had thought of using the night before. It was exceedingly steep and I basically slide down the hill to the river. I searched around a bit to find the most solid place to cross, then headed downstream to my machine. By the time I got withing 100 yards I could hear Jeff.

He had just arrived a few minutes earlier. It was about 10:30 and I had made much better time, although I had not recovered much, if any, energy that I could tell. After a brief chat, I fired up the butane torch and de iced the hitch so I could remove it from the snowmobile. While I did this Jeff started digging my machine out of the snow. Once the freight sled was unloaded and free of the machine, it was fairly easy for both of us to lift the arctic cat back onto more solid footing. Jeff said it was -17 when he left Talkeetna. My therometer said minus -4. So it was somewhere in between. I had brought the empty pack in case the snowmobile would not start. At least I could carry something back. It took some gentle pulling on the starter rope to get the recoil to work and free up the pistons. After a bit of priming the arctic cat fired up and I knew I was finally on the downhill slide. After the machine was idling on it's own, I reloaded the freight sled. I threw some items in the pack and put it on my back. Once we got the load to move I didn't stop. We pulled out onto the river. Uljas behind and Jeff trailing on his tundra. From there on out the trip was exactly as it was supposed to go. The hauling trail proved to be an easy ride and jeff followed me home. It was noon when we arrived and the cabin. We were both a bit chilly. Traveling at an average of 10mph, I did freeze my ears a bit, even wearing my favorite balaclava. My glove warmers on the handle bars of my machine finally got warm about 1/8th mile from the cabin.

At least the cabin was neutral, if not warm. I got the interior warm in short order, cooked up some coffee and had lunch with Jeff while he warmed up. He still had to make it to his place and open it up. It would take me until dark to sort and re stow everything I had brought up.

I really try and plan my trips to avoid trouble. But sometimes it just happens. At least with the day's starting to get a bit longer, it will get a bit easier as well.....

My spring float trip.

It was a late spring in early 2013. Cool temps in mid april had halted the snow melt. I had hoped to ride my ATV down to my landing, but that was not going to be possible. So I was left with the only other alterative. Walking.

Leaving home is never easy. It takes about an hour to close up the cabin, if I've done some prep work the day before. The morning I left, I started at 5 a.m. first call. The kids and I ate some cold pancakes, I made the day before. I heated up the last of yesterdays coffee and sipped on that while I stored, atv, snowmobile seats and storage barrels inside the cabin. the reason I put the barrels inside, is to "take up", room so a bear can't manouver as easily if it gets in. The bear boards only take a few minutes, and by 7:30 I was on my way.

The morning temps the previous, couple days were in the low 40's when I got up, but today was colder... at +28. This would help in the walking as the snow would hold my snowshoes better. It was the middle of may, and there was still several feet of rotten snow on the ground.

The first challenge was to cross the little overflow creek that runs from the little lakes to the east. The creek bed is normally dry except during spring melt and long periods of rain.

I carried my pack across, then returned to carry my young dog across, as the creek was running high and fast enough to require chest waders. Uljas did jump across a narrow spot, but nearly went in.

Then it was just a slow plodding walk in snowshoes. I had to change out of my waders as the temp was rising pretty fast. I was running a bit behind and didn't get to the river until 10:30.

By then the snow was getting very soft. I drug the zodiac down to the bank of the Talkeetna river, along with paddles, floor boards and the gear I had carried down earlier last week.

By 11:30 I had the raft pumped up, loaded and was ready to go.... I took a short break to rest as I was going to be quite busy the next 4-5 hours...

I shoved off by noon and worked my way out of the slow back channel and into the main current. It wasn't much further than 1/4 mile when I noticed a decided cold wetness in the raft. I had put my chest waders and barn boots back on in case I needed to jump out and beach the raft. Taking my attention off the current I looked around to see about 6" of water in the raft. It has a rigid plywood floor that sits above the bottom of the boat by about 3 inches, but the water was above that!

Dang... there was no turning back now! I was sure I had checked the scupper plugs, and the raft had never been wet before other than splash over... Regardless.. all my stuff was going to get soaked, and my dogs weren't liking it...

I was running with just canoe paddles as one of my oars had broken, and I hadn't found replacements yet. I looked for any sign of exposed gravel bank to pull up too, but everything was a shelf of broken ice about a foot thick. The river had fallen after freeze up and the ice shelf was up to, two feet above the water line.

We floated along through the area's of fast current, and those stetches of river where it didn't even look as though we were moving at all. trying to paddle a semi flooded raft was tiring and frustrating. It had no handling ability at all. Several times I was bumped into large chunks of ice, when I could not get the raft into the proper current. The best I could hope to do was push off and hope I didn't puncture the main air bladder. Tree's in the river where my biggest worry. A tear would be the end of the trip, and maybe the end of me!

We were nearing the Clear creek area. Perhaps a mile above, when I heard the sound of strong current. I looked ahead to see a wall of jumbled ice, but no visible way through! Icejam..... Another concern I had actually discounted. I looked and looked for a channel through, as we steadily got closer. But there was none. I grabbed onto a large chunk of ice and managed to stop the raft about 25 yards or so above the jam. Trying to clamber out of the raft and keep ahold of it proved difficult, but I made it to the ice without losing hold of my line. I then stepped off the chunk onto what I believed to be a solid gravel bar. I pulled the raft more securely onto the ice. As I did so, the chunk I had stood on just a few moments before, broke free of it's mooring and floated down river, to become lodged in the jam.

On solid ground, at least for the moment, I surveyed the icejam. I could see the water being funneled under the ice with a lot of force. I wold have been pulled directly into it with no way out. As I watched the ice groaned and cracked and moved. It wanted to break, but coudn't. I'm glad I hadn't decided to stay on that chunk a moment longer!

I needed to get around this obsticle. I unloaded the zodiac, pulled it onto the ice and pulled the scupper plugs to empty the raft out. It weighed a ton!... Then the dogs and I crossed the gravel bar to the other side. water was running shallow across the far end. The water wanted through, and was cutting a new opening, into another channel, that was open. It wasn't deep, but it was my only choice. I returned to the raft, secured the dogs to my backpack and drug the raft across to the other channel. Followed by the gear and dogs. Every trip the ice got slushier. It was warming up fast, and I didn't want to be anywhere near that icejam if it broke free. I pumped up the bladders, reloaded the gear and dogs, and pushed the raft into the water. It was shallow enough that I had to line the raft about 50 yards in order to float it, with me in it.. But we got going..

Back to a soon half filled raft, we resigned ourselves to it, and paddled on.... Other than a few bumps with the ice we didn't do to badly. We arrived at clear creek, to see a few people fishing. the river was quite wide here and had good current due to several streams feeding into it nearby... We couldn't make much small talk, as I was in a hurry to complete this trip. About a mile downstream I spotted a nice clear gravelbar near a feeder creek. Once again I pulled ashore and unloaded the dogs and gear. They were quite happy to lie in the warming sand, as I unloaded and drained the raft once more. We were getting close to finishing and I was really looking forward to getting away from the river. In the water once more, our boat didn't stay dry for long. Where the water was entering was anybodies guess. It was always dry, but we had used the raft to shuttle supplies across river last fall. We had three seperate channels to cross and that left us with having to unload each time and portage gear, canoes and raft, across gravel bars. Not all of which were ice and snow covered. I was thinking we had worn a hole in the bottom then... But it was irrelevant now...

We paddled on... As we neared "Archers", boat launch, I surveyed the bank. Thick ice had formed during freeze up. As it warmed it had broken off, and there was literally no bank. Just a shelf of one foot thick ice about head high, if I stood up in the raft. Absolutely no place to grab onto let alone land! Eventually though, I found places where the ice shelf had broken off and formed something of a ramp onto the shore. As I approached my proposed take out point, I spied a few characters that I know, standing there on the bank drinking beer, I hurled a barb or two at them, and they returned in kind as I drifted by. They own the lots just upstream from my take out point. I decided to hop onto the ice at the first place that looked good. then I lined the rafted the rest of the way, finding a nice little opening in the ice which would allow the raft to sit without fear of drifting downstream. The ice shelf was also broken off into a ramp, which pleased me to no end! Mike (my ride), called. He was in the area, but needed to know exactly which lot I was at. He arrived a few minutes later, as I was unloading the raft and carrying the gear up to were the truck could park. I emptied the raft of water one more time, and we drug her up off the river through knee deep snow. As I deflated the raft, I commented on the conditions on the way down. During the process of folding the raft to stow in the box of the pickup, I saw the tear in the fabric (patch actually), right at the transom... Well, that was easy! Fortunately, I brought my barge cement with me... now I just need some nice weather, to start repairs in. For now I was happy just to get into something drier and a bit warmer. It would take a few day's to dry everything out. The trip was a bit more difficult than I had anticipated. The hole in the zodiac being the worst of it. But other than being a bit chilly we were fine.

I'm thinking that once I get the zodiac repaired it might make a nice tradition to float out every spring.

Here is my launch point. As you can see there is still a lot of snow and ice on the river, for the middle of may. The slow shallow channel in the front of the photo is were I put the zodiac in at.

As you can see the river get pretty narrow in places!

This is the snow covered gravel bar I took out at to portage around the ice jam. note the drag marks left by the zodiac. In the far distance you can see the raft. (marked with the word zodiac!).

Here you can see the water that was overflowing the gravel bar, being pushed to find a route past the backup caused by the icejam. Only a few inches deep it wasn't enough to get the raft through by any means. Just to the right of the photo is the back channel I put the raft in to continue my journey. The channel itself was not deep enough to float the raft with me in it, so I lined the raft down to deeper water. Basically I walked down stream pulling the raft by rope.

I would have taken better photo's however, when things got exciting, I was quite busy trying steer a water logged raft around trees and large chunks of ice.... Sorry... I'll try harder next time!!

Snowshoes

I spend a lot of time wearing snowshoes and have become something of a snob I suppose, when it comes to bindings and construction. I have used some very poor snowshoes in my time and am a bit opinionated about them.

I'm not a purist as far as material goes. The traditional wooden shoes with rawhide webbing are classic, but honestly I prefer newer materials if at all possible. I currently have 5 sets of snowshoes. Everything from the very traditional, to modern aluminum.

I'll go through these and compare them a bit, so you can make the best choice for you. If you plan on homesteading in a northern climate snowshoes will become an indispensable part of your life. Gone will be paved driveways and cement walkways. Trying to get around without a good pair of shoes will result in complete frustration.
Let me recount a true event that happened several years ago. My snowmobile was broken down, and a friend offered to bring up a load of winter supplies. He borrowed a machine and a small freight sled and drove through very poor snow conditions to my landing on the river. However the snow conditions were so bad, that we were unable to get the snowmobile up the embankment without the fright sled, let alone with it. Working until well after dark, we finally admitted defeat. Packing what we could we began the long trek back to my cabin. The snow was deep and there was very little traffic on my trail other than what I had made with my snowshoes. The packing down I had given it on the way to the river was insufficient to hold the weight of a person wearing just boots. And that was all my friend had. He not only did not own any snowshoes of his own, which I find almost unbelievable, he had not even thought to borrow any.
Understand, that if you are in a rural setting and your machine breaks down. You won't be going far without snowshoes. Even back tracking on your trail, (the best method, of getting out of your situation), you probably will be breaking through every other step.
My friends experience in walking up to my cabin was no doubt a learning one. I had to stop every 40 steps (yes I counted), and let him rest. The snow was a good three feet deep in mid December and he was sinking through to near ground. Eventually he even ditched his day pack, which held food and water. He did this without my knowledge of course.
It took us approximately six hours to walk the distance to my homestead, that I can normally walk in less than half that. He was exhausted and soaked in sweat. I built a fire and fed him and he went to sleep. Within a few hours my snowshoes were back on my feet and I was heading back down to the river retrieve more supplies. I ended up carrying nearly a hundred pounds of meat and goods, including the day pack he had discarded. By the time I got home it was 4pm, and he was just waking up.....
The purpose of that story is to illustrate, that my friend had an extremely difficult time, when it should just have been a walk.
As I mentioned I have five pair of snowshoes, and wear them nearly every day in winter.
In the picture below I show my traditional wooden shoes with rawhide webbing, along side a pair of wooden frame shoes with modern skirting material and steel cable in place of rawhide.

The traditional shoes on the left are fairly maintenance heavy. Under daily use in moderate temperatures the rawhide will get wet. Once it does the rawhide will loosen and unravel as you walk. You will be spending some time relacing and securing the bindings. By hanging them high in the cabin the warm air will dry and retighten the webbing. In order to minimize this you will need to put a good coat of varnish on your shoes as it wears.
Note the unique rubber bindings on these shoes. They are inexpensive and utter and complete JUNK... True, they are very easy to get into howver they do not secure your boot in aliognment with the shoe. Something that is quite essential for manuvering. You will find yourself literally able to step off of your shoe while trying to turn. While I have used these binding a lot, and have cut many trees down wearing them, I feel they are very hazardous, and I only use them as backup. Another detractor is that there are no cleats or grippers on the bottom of the shoes, making going up slopes without ski poles difficult.
The hybrid shoes on the right are very good shoes for level country work. The flexible material that replaces the conventional webbing (refered to as decking) is tough and stays supple even in very cold temps (Note: not all of them do). These shoes do have simple pegs on their bottom, but they are still insufficient for travel uphill, and ski poles are recommended. The binding are not the best however. the laces tend to ice up and are not easy to snug up though the holes. I will try different materials in the future, such as para cord, to see if they can be improved upon. The heel strap also tends to fall off the back of your boot if not pulled very tight. I plan on adding an additional strap that will go around the instep.
I find bindings to be the bulk of most of my snowshoe complaints and there are reasons for that I will go into later. Overall the hybrid shoes are excellent for breaking trail. The overall length of 44 inches gives them very good floatation as well.

The shoes above constitute my favorite shoes. The pair in the left are my Sherpa's. Totally modern material they are extremely lightweight and have great floatation. Grippers un the bottom make going uphill much easier and any sliding is kept to a minimum. The bindings are similar to the hybrid shoes above, however the flat lacing and the metal buckle are much easier to adjust and are much more secure. I highly highly recommend Sherpa snowshoes. Nuff said.
The pair on the right are also excellent shoes. Made of all modern material they are the cross country equals to my Sherpa's. The bindings are so far the best I have used on an intermediate priced shoe (under $100) They lock your foot in securely and are very fast to put on and remove. They secure with a rubber bunji type arrangement, that after a bit of familiarization are quite handy. My only reservation is that the rubber may get brittle in cold weather and break while stretching. This has not been an issue so far however. The aggressive grippers on the bottom of the shoe make it very versatile in hilly country.

These are obviously not the only shoes available, however let me touch on a few things. Choosing the right show for your lifestyle is important. The small, bear paw type shoes are easy to use, and not cumbersome, however, unless you are on a pre broken trail they offer almost no floatation, regardless of how cool they are. The only thing worse than trying to walk through hip deep snow, without snowshoes, is walking through hip deep snow with snowshoes that don't hold you up. Choose a shoe that is designed for your weight, and the type of snowshoeing you do.
I buy most my shoes at garage sales and estate sales. You can find really good bargains on outdoor gear by cruising the summer sales. Many folks buy snowshoes, cross country ski's and other outdoor gear, then never really get around to using them. Much like an exercise bike or a treadmill.
The only real issue I have with the intermediate priced shoes is that the bindings are not as sophisticated. The cost needs to be cut someplace, and it is usually in the bindings. I have had few structural issues with mid priced shoes. Likewise with shoes in the $200 plus mark the bindings will be much better.
I have had issues with the synthetic decking on some modern shoes. In colder temps (single digits to below zero), the decking can become brittle and break if it comes into contact with broken branches, etc.
I also tend to shy away from those plastic snap type buckles that are so popular on most of the new high tech stuff. They ice up right away and are almost impossible to manipulate once they get wet. They also don't hold very well. I much prefer the good old metal buckle.
There isn't much to snow shoeing. Remember to lift your knees a bit higher when breaking trail. Make sure you can see the front of the shoe before trying to step forward! Accept the fact that branches and such will poke through the decking and webbing causing you to lurch forward or send you sprawling on your face from time to time.
Ski poles are great and I recommend them. There are times whn they do get in the way, but if I'm traveling in uneven terrain I like to have them along.
Snow shoeing is great exercise, and a fun way to travel. In mid winter when the snow is good you can really cover some ground...
I encorage everybody to give it a try, even if you aren't a homesteader!

Your first Wilderness Home

When I first envisioned my homestead, it consisted of log structures, cut hauled a hewn from the Alaska bush. that mindset stayed with me until I met up with a friend I had met on a hunting forum, years before I moved north. My friend had been a long time Alaskan, and proved to be a wealth of practical knowledge.

Even so I resisted his advice in true male fashion, at least until I was able to fully get up to property and survey the terrain with a better eye than just a guy who flew to Alaska to buy land. The land I purchased was indeed challaging to get too. My insidious plan was working in reverse! I realized that many miles of trail would have to be built before any real homesteading could be done. Doing this with nothing more than a tent to live in suddenly wasn't as appealing as it had once been.

It was evident that I would be reconsidring my friends advice, which was actually so practical that it was no wonder I had rejected it.

The advice was this. Build a cabin/house, out of conventional lumber. While at least initially it seems counter productive, to haul all that lumber so far, lt me tell you that cutting and dragging trees across unbroken ground with minimal equipment was even more daunting. Besides fighting the trees themselves, there are mosquito's, black flies, whitesocks, devils club, and a dozen more nasties you would have to endure during the process. How did the pioneers do it?. Well, honestly, I believe that 99% of them quit in the first week. The rest either had no sense, or just could not afford to leave.

With that being said I deduced that I could haul enough lumber up to get a small "starter" cabin going in much faster time than the hard laborious work of cutting and peeling logs. And in fact it was true. While it took me the course of several months it required only a couple trips to get the lumber for the shell to my landing.

It took about a half dozen full trips from the landing to the property but all in all it was fairly quick and efficient.

The best part about the conventional cabin was that it allows you to stay at the homestead for extended periods of time comfortably. Imagine staying a summer in just a tent with bugs and bears. With the first cabin I could actually be "home".

I decided that a structure 12'x12', would allow enough room for me and two dogs to live in relative comfort for an extended period of time. I would not go smaller, as once you put in a bunk, wood stove, counter, etc, it gets small quite fast! I know a guy who put up an 8'x8' shack for the same purpose. There is barely room to turn around, while I actually have to take a few steps to get from the bunk to the kitchen sink. If you desire more room, it will be something you will need to consider on your own. Are you alone? Wife? Kids? You might want to camp out in the livingroom or some other smaller space to experiment a bit before you start.

My decision for 12x12 was partly based on utilizing full sheets of plywood and OSB, etc while trying to eliminate waste. Based on 2008 lumber prices I found that the shell for my little cabin would cost about $750. This included all 2x6's for floor joists and roof rafters, 2x4 walls. OSB exterior sheathing and 3/4" plywood for the floor.

I also had enough to run a loft across the back 4 feet of the cabin for storage purposes.

When you begin hauling your lumber you will find it very helpful to set aside enough funds to build a storage unit/toolbox out of plywood and 2x4's. I built one approximately 4'x4'x8' with a sloping lid, that I securd plastic sheeting and a tarp over, to keep the weather out. It has been a very worthwhile part of the homestead. While it is not technically bear proof, it is far better than leaving your tools under a tarp out in the woods.

You will also need a foundation for your little cabin. I decided on concrete piers with adjustable screw jacks (available at most bulding centers). These allow for leveling as the cabin settles a bit.

I built my piers using a bag of portland that I hauled up, and used sand and gravel from the creek. This saved a lot of expense and hauling. I used old plastic pails (5 gallon), cut down to a bit, as you don't want them higher than they are wide, to use as forms. I wrapped a piece of plastic around a 1" dowel, or broom handle and pushed it down 8-10" into the center of the pier to allow for the screw jack. The plastic keeps the concrete from adhering to the dowel.

Most everyone knows enough of basic constructon to build a small building so I won't go into that. I did opt for a shed style roof to keep it simple however.

I built a 3' pony wall on one side to be my high end, and I made the door fairly wide, 38" to make entry and exit of me and stuff easier.

A lot of the additional items used to build the cabin, I scrounged for. By doing a few construction cleanup jobs, I acquired much of the insulation, tin roll roofing, and additional lumber and plywood. You will be suprised how much material you can find simply by asking. You will very likely be doing a remodeling contractor  favor, by hauling away the old insulation, and roofing etc.... Even windows.

Another outlet for inexpensive windows, and furnishings, etc, is the "Habitat for Humanity", re-stores. These stores sell off the donations that they deem not up to what they would use to buils a H4H home. However over the years, I have found many excellent items, including windows that where still in the plastic wrap.

In this pic you will see the framework for my little cabin. I don't even have all the rafters up, if you look closely. The structure is covered in nylon reinforced plastic (visqueen). Befind you will see the plywood storage box I built. Not visible is the moose bed just infront of where I'm standing when I took the pic.

In this photo you can see the OSB, going up on the walls. I have my lumber covered with extra tarps just in case. (Note: Something I aleadt knew, but neglected anyhow. Put your blocking in between your rafters as you are putting them up. It is just much easier)

In this pic the OSB is further along. Not the dark area's on the sheathing. This is mold from sitting outside under tarps for to long of a period of time. Tarps do not work if they are removed by wind or critters and bleach and scrubbing was required to remove.

Here you can see I have begun placing the OSB on the roof. If I had to do it over again, I would have more overhang on the ends of the cabin, before this process. It can be remedied, however it is usually easier to do before, than after the thought. When done with the sheathing I restapled the visqueen on the roof as a substitute for tar paper.

 The last of the OSB to go up was on the gable ends and above the door, as this required the most cutting of material, and the most potential for waste and mistakes. As it was I had just enough OSB to finish the job. A total coincidence on my part. Not pictured is a loft that goes across the back of the cabin (front of the pic), which serves primarily as storage but has plenty of head room for sleeping.

Because of a lack of 2x4's the windows got put in last, and portions of the walls needed to be reframed. This really bad picture shows the installatin of the first window. the frames were all made on the spot to fit salvaged glass panes. It doesn't show well, but trust me that all cripple jack and king studs are there.

It may be basic, but it evidentally got the seal of approval from Uljas, as he had no trouble getting acclimated. This was our moving in day. The first day when we did not have to go anyplace else to sleep. There was no stopping over at the trapper cabin to stay while the roof or walls were going up... And we have been here ever since.

Thats right.... When we moved in we didn't even have a door. We hung up visquees and mosquito netting to keep the skeeters out. When we lwft we put up the last remaining sheet of OSB over the opening to disuade any bears from coming in. The OSB fit flush with the rest of the sheathing and there was no permanent steps, so it seemed to work well. That piece of OSB is still functioning as a door cover to this day.

I began putting together a crude interior. Installing insulation and building more windows. It has been in flux ever since. However this is how it looked early on.

I might add that you will want to be sure to vent your roof if you are going with a shed style arrangement as I did. Without venting you will start building up mold quite quickly and it will cause major problems. My cheapo solution was to scrounge all the cardboard boxes I could find and I stapled them up about 1.5 inches below the roof OSB. This let air flow through. I then put R-13 insulation up over the vents and then my interior plywood, which is being painted white in order to maximize my lighting potential.
My roof is aluminum roll roofing that I got off of a remodeling job and the 1/2" plywood I'm using as the interior walls was purchased used as well. I paid $75 for 24 full sheets. Other than a bit or tar paper stapled to it, the sheets were in very good condition. My door is also made of plywood and built on site.

Trail Building 101

Once you have found a piece of land to build your little home, you will need to get there. Regardless if your lot is just a few hundred yards off of the road system or you are much more remote, you will find yourself needing to build a series of trails. If nothing more than to get your ATV to your wood cutting area's.

Building a decent trail will make your travel more bearable. Notice I did not say fun. Even the best trail you can build through the woods will knock you around quite a bit. However you will want to make the experience the least abusive as you can.

Tools will be needed to accomplish this mission of course. While a chainsaw alone will do the bulk of the work a few other items will make the chore much more effective.

I would recommend the following, if you can afford it.

1. Chainsaw with a sharp chain
2. chainsaw with a bad chain. (this is the saw that will be biting into the dirt and cutting dead fall on the ground.
3. Pulaski (which is an axe with a pick on one side, that will be used for chopping at root structure and evening out bumps and depressions).
4. trail marker tape (I like pink best).

In the event you are not able to have a second saw don't sweat it... just be careful. There is nothing worse than a dull chainsaw. If you can't afford a Pulaski then just bring a shovel of some sort.

Begin by scouting your trail carefully. Don't rush it. If your land is in a true undeveloped area you will be going through area's with a lot of dead fall, undergrowth and wet area's.

Take your time, as it will be worth it in the end. If you are concerned about getting temporarily confused about your location simply use the marker take as a guide.

I like to take about an 18 to 24 inch piece of tape and secure it to a branch along your prospective trail, about head high. Tie it with a simple overhand knot, as you can remove it easily and use it over and over (remember, you are on a dime here). Tying a square knot is not needed if your tag ends are long enough.

Look back and gage how straight your trail is. By placing your tape about 30 feet apart or withing easy sight of the previous piece you can judge your route. When you need to turn your trail try and make gradual bends in the trail. Remember, you will be hauling lumber, roofing and supplies on this trail. Two and three point turns on a trail, just to maneuver your trailer will be quite annoying.

Try to stick to the high ground, avoiding wet spots. They may not seem bad, but will only get worse, much much worse. Cut out any deadfall, and cut it a few feet wider than you need. Remove small trees and saplings completely, rather than going around. If you feel a bit guilty about doing that just remember, you can use them for projects or firewood.

I handle deadfall in two ways. If the deadfall is very old and sunken and rotting into the ground, I simply take the chainsaw and make curf type cuts through the tree down to near ground lever, about 1" apart. I then take the pulaski or axe and break out the pieces. Any deadfall that is above ground I cut into sections big (or short enough, depending on your perspective), to throw off to the side. Taking note of any wood that may be usable for firewood and keeping that separate for removal. Dips and mounds are then broken down with the pulaski or shovel. This might not seem important, but trust me. After a few trips down the trail you will remove them. Don't worry. You won't get them all the first day.

As you survey and walk, look back and see how the trail is progressing. Use your tape for visual confirmation and you'll see how straight you can keep things. The work will go slowly, but after you drive the trail a few times you will notice how visible it becomes.

Also take the time to remove the undergrowth. Brush, bushes and the like which obstructs the view of the trail and will only get in the way. Do as nice a job as you can. The chainsaw works fine for this, but if you have a grass trimmer with a saw blade you will save your back.

In the foreground of this photo you will see a very old dead birch tree. It is enough above ground that it will need to be removed completely. Even in open area's such as this you will probably have to remove brush, at the very least. Remember to cut at least a few feet either side of your ATV, and try and picture hauling a loaded trailer behind you.

Here is a photo of a very old deadfall that has sunk/decayed into the ground. These are still a pain to go over, so I make the curf cuts as shown, then break the pieces out. These littl things may not seem like much, but after you have crossed them a few times you will do this anyway.

In the above two pictures you will see a before and after of the removal of a down birch and misc brush. Note that a few low limbs on the spruce trees were also removed.

Trail building is not difficult, but it is time comsuming. The real key to remember is that you want to picture yourself hauling a trailer, perhaps one with 12 to 16 foot 2x6's, etc, behind your machine. The extra time you take at the beginning will make your travels less of a chore.

Remember to use a lot of marker tape, in order that you may be able to look back and guage how your trail is coming along. Better to backtrack at the beginning a few yards and look for a more suitable route than rebuild later. You will be in less of a mood, trust me.

In this photo the white arrows show the trail marker tape. While it does not show up very well, due to image size limitations the arrows show a fairly straight trail easily allowing the the hauing of even large ungainly loads.

Hills: There will be times that you will need to nativate up hills. This is often difficult, as finding a suitable route will require much searching. Viewing from a distance the hills always appear steeper, so scout ahead, find your best route and then back track to your established trail. You should absolutely try and avoid a traverse, as the last thing you will want is too roll an ATV downhill. Don't be suprised that you may need to actually tie two ATV's together in order to haul a load to the top of a hill. This is not actually uncommon, but requires some experience with ATV's.

My common routine, since I live in the mountains, is to haul small loads on my ATV racks, up to a freight trailer that is stationed on more lever ground at the top of the last big hill. This is time consuming, but much easier on equipment in the long run.