Homestead at Nine Mile – home in foreground was Ernest and Clara Ullery’s built in 1921

This two-room cabin, circa 1921, was built of pine logs from the Mayoworth sawmill west of Kaycee, (师徒/年上/高干/双男主).  The old-growth logs were planed so that cedar shingles could be nailed on the outside walls rather than leaving them rounded, which was an unusual design that I have always attributed to my great grandfather Samuel.  He retired from a career as a builder in the Midwest and followed his son Ernest’s footsteps to a homestead in (师徒/年上/高干/双男主). The logs were notched, nailed together with large spikes and chinked like most of the historic log structures of that era, but then the cedar shingles covered the exterior.

A screened porch extended the length of the cabin on the east side.  The group in the photo is unidentified, however I believe the two gentlemen on the left are Samuel and Ernest.

Built in two 15 foot sections joined by a partition in the middle, the east end has been removed in this photo. First the shingles are removed, then using crow bars and saws the laws are pried off and laid aside.

These photos, taken a few years ago, illustrate the fate that had befallen the old cabin.  A microburst windstorm tore the roof and porch off, blowing boards across the road and up the hillside.  My hopes of someday restoring the cabin were dashed.  When it was relocated from the homestead to ranch headquarters in the 1950’s, it was left standing on wooden blocks for a foundation, which ultimately failed, causing the floor to collapse.

One at a time, the logs are removed and stacked in the trailer for re-use.

Scraping off the old shingles was not a pleasant task, but had to be done to proceed with pulling the logs down.

Easy does it, as the west wall starts to come down.  The final solution was to tear it down, salvage the logs that were still in good enough condition to be re-purposed and clean up the site.  Our friend Rick, a preservation architect, volunteered to assist Michael and I with a hazardous, difficult job.  Stacking and storing the logs 女子spa高潮呻吟抽搐 hours of pulling nails and 女子spa高潮呻吟抽搐 an assembly line on sawhorses.  The logs were stored in a shed and covered with tarpaulins to keep them clean and dry.  Next step?  Stay tuned.

Marriage of convenience . . . .

This photo is of my great grandmother Clara standing in the breezeway between two structures on the homestead, circa 1922.  Both structures were moved from their original sites, which were nearby homesteads that had been relinquished.  The log house was moved yet again a few hundred yards to the west in 1938 to become the newlywed home of my parents and a lean-to was built on the cottage, which moved for the second time to ranch headquarters about five miles southeast in the late 1950’s where it stands today.

The “bunkhouse” . . . .

I undertook painting the little house for the first time when I was a teenager.  Very few homestead houses ever saw paint, which was an extravagance few of the early pioneers could afford.  After relocation from the homestead, it became the “bunkhouse” and was home to a cast of characters that worked as hired hands on the ranch.  It was still heated with a wood stove in the early years.

Waiting to be in service again . . . .

A hail storm damaged the roof in the 1980’s and Dad replaced the west side of the roof with asbestos shingles, leaving cedar shingles on the east.  In the 1990’s I engaged a local carpenter to replace a broken floor joist and lay a concrete block foundation which finally stabilized the structure, which was still standing on the wooden blocks it was placed on when it came from the homestead site.  In 2001 I repainted the exterior for the second time in my life, and made a few minor repairs, replacing some trim and broken window panes.  By this time the “bunkhouse” was used for storage and considered unfit for human habitat.

Old and new . . . .

My lifelong love for this old structure started getting into my pocketbook in a more serious vein in 2005 when I had the roof finished (fortunately I was able to match the same color shingles as Dad had installed) and we hung a new ceiling.  The old beaver board had warped and was stained with water leaks from the failing roof, but the wooden cross beams were still in good condition.  I matched the paint color, repainted them and we hung them back up over new ceiling tiles, replacing a few that broke in the process.  We laid insulation in the attic and buried an electrical line that eventually will help with lights and ancillary heat.

Design elements . . . .

The carpenter who built the little house was skilled and added some ornamental elements that I treasure.  The interior was painted green sometime in the 1950’s and a new paint job is badly needed, as can be evidenced by the fly specks, paint splatters and heaven only knows what else that adorns the walls.  I purchased paint to redo the interior several years ago, and plan to take it back to the colors that existed when my great grandparents resided here.  I have some concern about removing the green paint splashes from the antelope horns that are part of the original fixture.  It’s a great hat rack and I don’t want to break it!

Kitchen built-ins . . . .

The flower bin still functions, as does the pull-out kneading board under the kitchen counter.  The cupboards are built into the wall and have stood the test of time.

Upper kitchen cupboards . . . .

The interior of the cupboards was lined with wall paper and the interiors will all need to be scraped and cleaned thoroughly.  Years of vet supplies, household cleaners, and miscellaneous junk left quite a mess.

Door to the root cellar . . . .

Doesn’t everyone have a trap door in the floor leading underground?  The root cellar was where you stored food to keep it cool.  I recently toured our homestead site where the little house sat and the foundation stones, as well as the dug out area of the cellar are still visible.

Safety lock . . . .

A new and final phase of restoration is underway.  Considering how many years I have devoted to this project over my lifetime, that is probably an exaggeration!  Nevertheless, a plan to re-install the wood stove and chimney, replace rotted window sills, re glaze the windows, paint the interior, caulk, replace one or both of the doors, add screen doors, complete the electrical hookup and whatever else turns up should make it a delightful little guest cottage.

Looks like work . . . .

Removing windows that have been in place for nearly 100 years is a job requiring patience and more skill than I have, however I am persevering.  Each layer of trim and supporting structure that holds the windows in place has been saved, except the linen-looking rags that were used for weather stripping!  I will attempt to use something else to install the windows as air-tight as possible.  I won’t use caulking, as it makes it impossible to remove the windows for future repairs.

Window repair shop . . . .

After refurbishing 20 windows in our historic chicken house, re-doing five for the homestead house seems like a cake walk.  Still, this is a job!  Removing the old glazing is the worst of it.  I have had to replace some window panes that I broke trying to get the points and putty dug out.  I have three windows glazed and painted with oil-base primer.  I will remove the remaining two windows as we install new sills all around.  Once all the windows are restored and in place, I will finish painting the interior.  And my great grandmother Clara is invited to be our first guest.

Modern kitchen with wood burning stove . . . .

Don’t wait, demand is great!  This charming homestead cabin, circa 1920, has tons of atmosphere and character.  Constructed of “square” logs (rounded edges peeled off) from the historic Mayoworth sawmill, it has the original chinking and is finished with cedar shingles on the exterior.  It affords the coziest environment for discriminating guests.  Rates are unbelievably low, and guests should arrive prepared to “pitch in,” to use a western phrase, and work for bed and board.

They don’t make ’em like this anymore!

Just think of the family fun as you gather ’round to saw, hammer, haul, nail, pry, scrape and fulfill your dreams of life on the western front.  Evening campfires will be filled with cowboy music and the occasional rip roaring “Powder River, Let ‘Er Buck,” which is a spontaneous eruption from the locals after a few bottles of the finest selection of beverage (Coors Original) and camaraderie that evolves among the “just plain folks” that will be gathered around.

To preserve your little piece of this great Western experience, just show up.  No reservations 女子spa高潮呻吟抽搐.  Dry Fork of the North Fork of Powder River.  (师徒/年上/高干/双男主), of course.