Big
Projects and Little Projects
the Cape Falcon Kayak summer
2013 update

I'll begin by getting the 'poor me' portion of this update
out of the way. The injury still sucks, and despite
my best efforts with physical therapy, massage, trigger point
release, acupuncture, deep breathing, essential oils,
prayer, seances, ouji boards, and
voodoo..... It STILL f***ing
hurts. Slight improvements over this spring
include: the ability to work mostly without pain, and
some light carpentry in my off-time. Still off the
list is any sort of hiking, climbing, running,
paddling, basically everything I do to stay mostly
sane. Prognosis is still totally uncertain, but I am
choosing to believe that one day I may actually be able to paddle
again. Fortunately I still have my sense of humor and
my fingers to type, so lets move on....

Summer being upon us, it's time once again for classes at the
shop. People show up, they build stuff, they
walk on the beach and hike to pretty places, I get some
money, they get a boat, we have a potluck, it's a
marvelous time. People keep coming, so I can only
assume we're doing something right. A giant improvement
this year is that we finally have the GOOD SKIN back in
stock. The last few years have been extremely
frustrating with ballistic nylon in increasingly short supply resulting
in kayaks that were at times less tight than my pathological
perfectionism can tolerate. So it's a tremendous relief
that my supplier finally found a huge amount of the good stuff-
9oz nylon that cuts and sews perfectly and shrinks up tight as a
drum. It's about time! Another thing I
want share is the flickr photo stream posted by Patrick a recent
student in the may class. He did a beautiful job of
capturing the process and has given me permission to share.
Thanks Patrick.
Patricks Flickr documentary of the May class

Intolerant of my roommates dog, M the amazing supercat has moved
down to the shop full time where her incredible personality endears her
to everyone she meets. You too will fall in love with her.
We had quite the scare a few months ago when one of my
shop-mates let her into their studio where she promptly chowed a whole
bunch of rat poison, but after a frantic and expensive
night, and a very tenuous few weeks, her survival seems
assured. This comes much to the relief of my shop-mate who
had unfortuate displeasure of hearing the following words spoken
clearly and with menace an inch from her face: "If my cat
dies I'm going to light your car on fire." (please don't
judge, I was upset at the time)

Up at the farm an alternately wet and warm spring has kicked the
chlorophyl into overdrive, and we are planting and harvesting
like crazy in an ever increasing frenzy to feed a 65 person CSA,
the local farmers market, and my fiancee's farm-to-table
restaurant. The amount of sheer work that Ginger and her
rotating cast of 2-4 interns manage to do in a week defys the normal
laws of physics and reinforces my belief in passion as a viable fuel
source for the future of mankind. While I do own half the
farm, my work here is that of building and maintaining the
infrastructure and thus I am spared the ravages of trench warfare in a
pitched battle to keep nature from eating it's own bounty before we
can. Strolling through the quiet fields in the evening,
drink in hand, I am overcome with an intense gratitude to be part of
this important journey toward learning how to feed ourselves.
The impracticality of shipping food long distances in an oil-scarce
world is coming faster than we think, at which time our cities
and suburbs will have to return to local food sources. The
fact that we can do this on the north facing slope of a temperate
rainforest gives me a lot of hope for that.

Building things for others to breathe life into being my raison
d'etre, Lee and I have been on a tour de force of as many
restaurant spaces as possible gathering ideas and details for the build
out of her new restaurant space. That's right
folks, from the construction team who brought you the bright idea
of farming in a coastal rainforest, we present the newest insane
project: A salvaged, hand built, custom
interior for Lee's new farm-to-table restaurant, opening
this winter in Manzanita. I've always been a
go-big or go-home sort of individual and this build out certainly
qualifies. Lots of rusted steel, reclaimed
boards, fat fir slabs, live edge wood, antique
mirrors, edison bulb lighting, burlap, and brass will form
the canvas upon which Lee can practice her art of blending the absolute
freshest in local produce and grass-fed meats, with her
background in fine dining. The outpouring of support
she's gotten for the restaurant is truly touching, and both her
and I are committed to doing everything possible to make the new space
a success. The current location, Dinner at the Nehalem River Inn,
is open thurday through sunday, with more days added as the
season progresses. I encourage you to come out for
Dinner!

At present I've been keeping my carpentry chops sharp with lots of
little projects around the house, and my humility chops sharp by
having to ask for help with damn near everything. :(
Since vacating the Japanese house completely for full-time
rental, Lee and I needed a new place to hang our
hats. Hard to believe that this was our tool shed a
month ago!? This cozy little cabin right in the middle of
the garden is perfect for our needs. The woven cedar
Japanese style railing fences look awesome and were ridiculously easy
to build!

Another thing I just finally got around to was hanging this F-1 frame
in the rafters of the Japanese house.

Also easy to build are these simple stairs in the
forest. They facilitate a walk up to a favorite
tree, where for the moment I sit and wait, contemplating
life without exercise, but still doing my best to make the most
of my time. As always, I'm grateful to be
employed, to live somewhere beautiful, and to have the
opportunity to share my passion for beautiful simple things with so
many people. See you this summer, or
whenever....
-Brian
Bonus Photos:











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