Laurie Mustard / Winnipeg Free Press
When the Mustard family cabin in Killarney was in need of a stairway, the solution was simple (more or less) — build one.
Yes, I once built a stairway to heaven!
We’re talking many years ago, and heaven, in this case, was the Mustard family cabin in Killarney.
The cabin is perched on a hill overlooking beautiful Killarney Lake and is accessible from the street running behind the cabin. However, with lots of family and friends visiting, parking was a definite challenge.
There just wasn’t enough room along the street (behind) to park more than three vehicles, the next option being to park down front along Lakeshore Drive. The problem with that being there was no stairway up the fairly steep hill to the cabin, forcing people into a long roundabout walk to arrive at our door.
What to do, what to do?
Build one, that’s what. So, I made a plan. I took some measurements, priced out the lumber I’d need to get the job done by conventional standards and stopped dead in my tracks. Waaay too much. Hey, I’m frugal. OK, cheap.
Time to get creative. Hmmmm. Idea: "Why don’t I just get a couple of old hydro poles, and build a stairway up that?"
I already had a goodly pile of 2x4 and 2x6 lumber (recycled) I’d purchased for peanuts at a farm auction (stored right under the cabin), so that would take care of stairs material. But where do I get old hydro poles?
Hey, Killarney has a hydro station, and I was sure I’d seen some old poles stacked out back.
Now, in order to protect the guilty (me and them), I’m not going to say I traded a case of beer for a couple of their hydro poles, but that just may be how it happened.
Those poles were heavy, but with the help of a strong friend and a bicycle to strap the lower end to, we dragged them downhill (one at a time) to the desired location.
I wanted to be as kind and non-invasive as possible to the trees, bushes and greenery on the hill, and those poles met that need perfectly. They made contact only at the bottom and the top, leaving no greenery or growth disturbed underneath.
Having the poles in place was a good beginning, but the biggest challenge was yet to come — building many steps evenly spaced and level where absolutely nothing you’re building on is square or straight.
And of course I picked a very hot, humid stretch to accomplish this in.
The task took a few days. I had to build sturdy hand railings down each side as well, and no two stairs had the same measurements. It was definitely one of those "measure a hundred times, cut once", scenarios, which I was proud of myself for creating and completing — impossible however, without the coaching and assistance of young grandson Will.
One of the cool things about the poles touching only at the ends, is that when you stand halfway up the stairs and jump a bit, you get a springy bounce. The grandkids liked that a lot. Me too.
And as popular as those stairs are with visitors, they are equally appealing to local raccoon families who perch leisurely on them, perusing the folks wandering by below. They also seem to think those stairs are an excellent place to "do their business." Now, that’s just rude, but I love the fact they get enjoyment from them.
Last week, on a quick trip to Killarney, I drove by the stairs and saw a couple of rotten steps at the bottom, probably further on up as well (raccoon poop is not healthy for wood), so I’ll get right on that sometime within the next two or three years.
And hey, I discovered there are just 29 steps to heaven! Who knew?
Comments or feedback, love to hear from you at lmustard1948@gmail.com
