October 4, 2021 - Monday morning

57 degrees/cloudy/calm winds

Pentoga Road

I assumed yesterday at this time that I'd be able to sit here this morning and tell you how I finished the walls of the garden house. 

Yeah, that's not going to happen. Seems Mother Nature had other ideas.

Supposedly, there was only a 17% chance of rain on Sunday. With that in mind, I'd just set up the air compressor, saw horses, and other tools outside.  Sargie had come out to help hold the last long board in place.

A sprinkle.

"Don't worry about it," I said. "It's not going to rain."

Two sprinkles. Three Sprinkles. RAIN!

"Quick," I shouted. "We have to get this stuff back inside."

And so the day went.

I talked with Mark shortly after. He said he was standing out in his yard a mere ten miles away. At one point, he boasted the sun was shining. 

Not on Pentoga Road.

To make a long story short, it never did rain in town, but our gauge registered 1.1 inches of newly fallen precipitation. 

Living in the dessert, just a few miles distant, where it had remained high and dry, Mark asked if we wanted to visit the old Cook's Run trout hatchery. It is owned by the county and hasn't been active in years. I'd heard that the caretaker's cabin, built pre CCC days, was still in great condition and a real work of art.

Sure, why not.

We parked on a gravel road above the facility and walked down a path to the multi room cabin.

Sitting vacant for many years, the structure is in pristine condition. There's no chinking between the logs as none is needed. Each is perfectly straight and fastens tightly into the other. It was built by real craftsman and not from a kit.

With all the windows boarded over, but still intact, it was difficult to see inside, but what the camera caught was unbelievable. An artist, someone from the 20's or early 30's spent a great deal of time making this cabin something special.

The shelves on each side of the fireplace were plated with copper.

The stairway, banisters, and trim, are fashioned from  branches and tree trunks, in many cases, with the roots intact.

Mark shared the history of the hatchery while he led us to the old holding ponds alongside the Paint River.

It felt as if we'd taken a step back in time.

Our tour over and having left our tour guides off at their home, Sargie and I made our way back to Pentoga Road. Not more than six miles out of town, a bank of ominous looking clouds crossed our path.

For the second time on Sunday, heavy rain fell, rain that continued throughout the evening hours. I texted Mark and once again, he said they remained dry. 

By that time, I was getting paranoid about having a dark cloud continually over my head.

Our trees that were beautiful just two days ago are quickly shedding their leaves. Sargie and I will begin raking, blowing, and shredding, in the next couple of weeks.

It's daylight and time to go for my morning walk. 

Supposedly, it's not to rain for the next few days. Assuming that's true, I'll once again drag all the tools from the garden house and try to finish covering the walls. I'm so close, yet, so far. Today's biggest challenge is trimming around the tops of the round windows. I have a few ideas, but we'll have to wait and see.

After all, a man's work is never done.

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...