“I’m not painting out there,” Jane Chapin announced with finality. “If you want to, you can do it, but I am not joining you.”
I have form at dragging her out to paint in winter, but this trip I had no such plans. It dropped below 0° F last night here above Cody, WY, and predictions are for it to drop below -20° F by the weekend. That’s the kind of weather that freezes the hair inside your nostrils and causes spare parts to drop off.
I painted Old Wyoming Homestead, above, when Jane and her husband had just bought Bull Creek Ranch. It wasn’t until this visit that I realized that the structure is in fact a three-hole outhouse.
The real territorial house, above, was built in 1915. When Jane and Roger bought the ranch, the territorial house was at a crossroads. Much more time weathering and it would collapse. They have spent the intervening years rebuilding it. They’ve made a few refinements, the most notable being electric lights. It still has a wood stove and no indoor plumbing.
“What are you planning on doing with it?” Roger was asked. He shrugged and said he didn’t know.
Bull Creek, which runs behind the outhouse, is still a pass for grizzlies (who are hopefully sleeping in this wicked cold weather). There are still wolves here, and mountain lions, drawn by the mule deer, hares, and other easy prey. Domestic pets can’t roam or they’re supper.
Imagine living on this hillside on a cold autumn evening, the wind whistling down the pass. Your children need the privy, but you’re not sending them there alone. It’s no wonder that the outhouse has three holes; it was a family affair.
The territorial house has been my dream home since I first laid eyes on it. Roger and Jane are to be commended for stabilizing it for future generations. This is a part of our history that, once lost, can never be reclaimed.
The rest of this post will be photos of the surrounding landscape. Enjoy!
My 2024 workshops:
- Painting in Paradise: Rockport, ME, July 8-12, 2024.
- Sea & Sky at Schoodic, August 4-9, 2024.
- Find your authentic voice in plein air: Berkshires, August 12-16, 2024.
- Art and Adventure at Sea: Paint Aboard Schooner American Eagle, September 15-19, 2024.
- Immersive In-Person Workshop: Rockport, ME, October 7-11, 2024.
Oh, how I’d love to paint that root cellar! What a great photo!
It’s my idea of a dream house also. One exception, it needs to be next to the ocean 🙂
Brrr… do u have an indoor privy?
Beautiful contrasts, so desolate
Peaceful.
Please don’t wander after dark.
I have much to learn😉
I should have clarified: I’m staying at the ranch’s main house, where my friends actually live. They’re fully supplied with indoor privies, thank goodness. You could have frostbite in some important personal parts on a day like today.
This post brought back fond memories for me. I lived 50 years ago near Cody in Wyoming’s beautiful and remote country.
Also, my Aunt’s family inherited a summer cottage on an island, in a remote Maine lake where we often joined them . Their whole tiny island, was just big enough for an acre of trees, one house with attached root cellar, a 2nd one room” honeymooner’s cottage” and the double seater outhouse.
The only access from the main land was by driving miles down a dirt road, then by canoe, or by blowing a horn and having one of the family come with a small motor boat to get you and ferry you out to the island! Their ancestors built the place themselves, hauling all the supplies out over the ice.
They had water from a hand pump in the kitchen, hanging oil lanterns for light, a gas stove, fire place for heat, food was kept in the root cellar with an old “Ice box” there. At night we used the commode in the bedroom (pots to pee in,- emptied the next day- with a water pitcher and wash basin for cleaning your hands) or for those brave enough a trip to the double seater out house.
Days were taken up by swimming, walks or bird watching in the forest, canoeing adventures, eating good food our parents made, throwing sticks out over the lake for our exuberant dogs to retrieve, lazing on the porch. Occasionally we’d make a rare trip to the tiny town hours away, shop at it’s one or two stores, then return via a side trip to the town dump to leave our trash and watch bears . Nights were for listening to the loons, star gazing, sitting around a fire in the cozy house with the whole family reading, playing games, telling jokes and later deep restful sleep. So peaceful!!
Correction: -19° F this morning and predicted -34° tonight. These people are hardier than me!
And to think people live places with these temperatures *on purpose*. (Shakes head sorrowfully.)
This puzzles me from my Germanic roots through my Ohioan/Utahn bones to the tips of my Arizonan hair.
Brrrrrrrrrrr!