The sad story of a cursed camp (a long depressing-but-gotta-vent story *DUW* pics)

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The sad story of a cursed camp (a long depressing-but-gotta-vent story DUW pics)

June 17, 2008, 08:57:37 PM

Let me tell you all the story of the hunting camp. This is a sad story, but true.

It all started back in the early 70's, when my father received a 5-acre parcel of land as a favour for doing a friend's income tax and saving him thousands of dollars. Free land? Yes, but this was rural Nova Scotia in the early 70's, and rural land was only worth the trees growing on it back then. So my father and his buddies cut down those trees and built a log cabin. It was nothing special - my memories of it are faint, but I do remember no electricity, no phone, no toilet, and being able to see between the logs. I also remember the roof being "shingled" with uncut sheets of beer cans, "borrowed" from a local brewery one of the guys worked at. Still, we all loved "the Camp" and used it regularly.

Then one day in 1980, after a weekend of dirt biking on the logging roads, after we got home we received a call from the guy that gave my father the land - he lives nearby. The Camp had burned to the ground. The fire investigation found that the dirt bikes, which were kept inside the Camp to prevent their theft, had leaked fuel, and the still-smoldering wood stove ignited the fumes.

I have no pictures of this old camp. Being the 70's, taking pictures was an expensive proposition, and apparently nobody bothered taking any of the old place.

Dad and his friends rebuilt a somewhat more modern camp. This one was built with rough-cut lumber and had wood siding, but it also had actual walls dividing actual rooms inside. It still had no toilet - the extent of the plumbing was a sink (with no taps) that drained directly through the floor to the ground under the camp. Eventually such luxuries as electricity would be added. Still quite rustic, we loved this camp and spent lots of time there when I was a child and teenager. It was your typical hunting camp, with the typical hunting bullshiznit stories told ad infinitum. Antlers hanging on the walls, a "log book", kind of a guest book full of memories and even a "deer kill score book". This is how that camp looked in the winter of 2001/2002:

Over that winter we had discovered some severe structural rotting in the floor. Apparently when my father "skirted" the building years ago to keep animals out from under it, he neglected to leave vents. The floor boards, joists, and main beam rotted to dust, as did the "ribbon", the main outside structure of the floor that the exterior walls nail to. I, personally, discovered this rot when I went through the floor immediatly upon entering the door one day.

So the summer of 2002 we (my father, my sister's ex boyfriend, and myself) set about the monumental task of rebuilding the camp's floor:

You'll notice that we covered the joists in pentox to prevent the boards from ever rotting again. This camp was gonna last forever. We'd even started doing the inside up nicely:

Note that the framed picture you can see half of on the extreme left side of the photo was the only existing photo of the original camp, with my sister (then 5 years old) walking through the door...

Then one weekend in May 2003 we went to the camp to install a new TV antenna rotor that my father had bought. Now we could sit inside the camp and with the turn of a adjust the TV antenna to get the best reception on any of the two channels available over the air. Electricity AND two channels - we had it made. This was luxury, baby!

One day that following week the old drunk that lived across the road called my father to deliver the bad news: This was the only thing remaining of the Camp:

There was nothing left except the burned out hulks of the appliances (wood stove, sink, fridge, stove). Everything that could burn, burned. Our beloved camp was nothing but a black stain on the ground. The log book, the antlers, everything, gone.

The insurance company ruled it as vandalism/arson, likely local teenagers. We disagree, and think it may have been the sons of one of my father's hunting buddies who frequently used the camp for partying. They didn't light it on purpose, of course. We figure they were partying and somebody dropped a cig (or joint) between some couch cushions, or possibly tipped over a hot-knife torch, or left a stove burner on, or some other drunken or stoned mistake. We think this because we found the deadbolt in the ashes, unlocked. Vandals would not have been able to unlock it. Not wanting to cause problems with his hunting buddy my father didn't say a word and left the official cause as "vandalism".

So for the second time in 23 years, we were left to start from the ground up. This time the Camp was insured. Unfortunately, it was not insured for nearly enough - my father insured it in 1980 and didn't bother updating his policy. What would build a camp in 1980 wouldn't put windows in one in 2003. They cut my father a check and sent him on his way.

Determined to rebuild, the first thing dad did was buy a temprary "camp", something in which to stay while building the new one:

So with a base of operations we set about building the new camp. Of course after the fire everyone we knew, including dad's hunting buddies and their sons (who were my age) offered to help. Unfortunately, as is always the case wth such offers, they were made but not honored. The camp was built entirely by myself and a friend. I wired it, dad plumbed it. It took an entire summer, but by the end of summer '03 it was rooftight:

Once we had all for walls standing (but no roof yet) we almost had another catastropy. Hurricane Juan hit Nova Scotia the night of Sept 29, and tore a swath across the province and right across the camp. Thousands of trees in the woods surrounding the camp were uprooted (this pic was taken directly behind it):

Miraculously, the camp escaped damage:

So we soldiered on with construction:

Strangely, I have no pics taken after this point, but the camp was sided in beige vinyl, a 20X10 deck was built, and a 10X12 shed was built. This time, where we were starting from scratch, some features were added. A full bathroom (with a real, honest-to-God toilet!!!). Telephone. Ceiling fan. Electric heat (to suppliment the wood stove). Air conditioning. Satellite TV. Hardwood floors. And the clincher: A 27' pool was installed. Four-wheelers were bought to give us somtehing to do in the summer. Snowmobiles for the winter. And to keep it safe, a monitored alarm system (ADT) was installed.

In other words, the "Camp" was no longer a camp, but a full-featured cottage. It was actually quite luxurious. I spent almost an entire year living in it while renovating the house I bought (which is only 8 miles from the Camp).

After it survived Juan and a nearby forest fire a few years ago we figured the "Bad luck camp" had shed its bad luck. Imagine, then, my surprise and disappointment when I went over to check on the pool (I stop in every other day to check the water level and add chemicals, and when it's warm enough, swim). We had a wind storm on Friday the 13th (shoulda seen it coming), but when I stopped in on Friday everything was OK. My father was there on Sunday (and didn't notice anything), so I went today.

This is what I found:

The tree fell on the back of the camp, which is why my father didn't notice it. It looks to have broken the ends off two trusses and put a fairly large hole in the roof to boot. Looks like the curse is still on. Oh well, at least it's insured...

The sad story of a cursed camp (a long depressing-but-gotta-vent story DUW pics)

Reply #1 – June 17, 2008, 10:11:23 PM

great pics and a great story..... Atleast its not burned to the ground... I didnt scroll down until the end I expected it to have burnt down again..... Thats a nice place....

The sad story of a cursed camp (a long depressing-but-gotta-vent story DUW pics)

Reply #2 – June 17, 2008, 10:14:38 PM

Looks like fun. I was also expecting a total loss again - you'll have the place patched up in no time. Bad Friday the 13th luck is what happened to Tim Russert! Nice to have a place like that to hang out in and do man things :hick:

The sad story of a cursed camp (a long depressing-but-gotta-vent story DUW pics)

Reply #3 – June 17, 2008, 11:34:20 PM

After building a nice place like that, I sure patching it up would be a piece of cake. Probably not even worth the insurance deductible to file a claim. The bad luck sucks, but hopefully you can fix it up without too much trouble.

Is you camp near the ocean?

The sad story of a cursed camp (a long depressing-but-gotta-vent story DUW pics)

Reply #4 – June 18, 2008, 08:27:41 AM

If it wasn't for the broken trusses I'd fix it myself. The trusses are something that's gonna be a pain in the ass to repair, though. They've got to tear up most of the boards on the bottom edge of the roof, then "sister" some boards onto the trusses, then re-shingle the back side of the roof. It's all got to be done fairly quickly, too - if we get any rain there will be interior damage on top of the structural damage. The first estimate is already in: $2500.

The camp is not near the ocean... at least not directly on it. It's about 8 miles from the Minas Basin. Everything in Nova Scotia is near the ocean in the sense that you can only go about 40 miles inland before you start heading toward another s...

The sad story of a cursed camp (a long depressing-but-gotta-vent story DUW pics)

Reply #5 – June 18, 2008, 08:44:32 AM

Nice story Carm, hope the camp has better luck in the years to come :)

The sad story of a cursed camp (a long depressing-but-gotta-vent story DUW pics)

Reply #6 – June 18, 2008, 09:13:21 AM

After the fires you had down there this weekend, I was waiting for pics of another black pile. Most of those forest fires were fuelled by the old dead windfall left behind by Juan. I forgot that only one house was lost to the fires, though. shiznitty luck, but it could have been a lot worse.

The sad story of a cursed camp (a long depressing-but-gotta-vent story DUW pics)

Reply #7 – June 18, 2008, 10:35:29 AM

Actually two houses were lost, and a bunch were damaged. That was on the other side of the province, though, east of Dartmouth. The cottage is actually closer to Truro.

The sad story of a cursed camp (a long depressing-but-gotta-vent story DUW pics)

Reply #8 – June 18, 2008, 10:47:36 AM

Quote

It all started back in the early 70's, when my father received a 5-acre parcel of land as a favour for doing a friend's income tax and saving him thousands of dollars. Free land? Yes, but this was rural Nova Scotia in the early 70's, and rural land was only worth the trees growing on it back then.

Did you, by any change, happen to check if there was once an ancient burial ground on that property? :hick: