In the coming days, you’ll have two opportunities to listen to Monroe Robinson, author of “The Handcrafted Life of Dick Proenneke,” talk about his experiences serving as caretaker of Dick Proenneke’s cabin for 19 summers in Lake Clark National Park.
There will be a live broadcast on Thursday, April 7 (rescheduled from Thursday, March 24), 9 a.m. to 10 a.m. Pacific (12 p.m. to 1 p.m. Eastern), on Johanna Wildoak’s “Wildoak Living” radio program on KZYX, Mendocino Public County Broadcasting. The broadcast will be live-streamed on the KZYX website here.
The program will also be archived in the KZYX jukebox for about two months. You can look for the program by date and time of broadcast here. It will also appear as a podcast on all major podcast platforms. Simply search for “KZYX.”
On Thursday, March 31, the Friends of Dick Proenneke and Lake Clark National Park will host a webinar on Zoom discussing “The Handcrafted Life of Dick Proenneke” at 5 p.m. Alaska time (6 p.m. Pacific, 9 p.m. Eastern).
Panelists will include Monroe Robinson; Fred Hirschmann, founding member and current president of the Friends of Dick Proenneke and Lake Clark National Park; Cheryl Linder, current board member of the foundation (and pictured with Dick Proenneke on Page 349 in “The Handcrafted Life of Dick Proenneke”); and Susanne Green, a National Park Service representative for the foundation and current superintendent of Lake Clark National Park and Preserve.
“The Handcrafted Life of Dick Proenneke,” signed by Monroe, will be for sale as part of the Zoom event. It will be priced at $60, including shipping. Proceeds above the wholesale cost of the books will be donated to the Friends of Dick Proenneke and Lake Clark National Park. You can also donate directly to the foundation here. The foundation is currently raising money for numerous projects, including creating an endowment for the long-term preservation and interpretation of Dick’s cabin and the Twin Lakes basin and continuing reproducing and purchasing artifacts and belongings for the Proenneke site. Funds from the foundation recently helped replaced the sod roof and cure the mold growth at Dick’s cabin.
“The mission of the foundation includes assisting the National Park Service with future restorations of the structures and handcrafted items of Dick Proenneke, providing interpretative staff for the site and preserving the wilderness of Twin Lakes drainage,” Monroe says.
The webinar is open to the first 500 attendees who register. To attend, you must register in advance here. After registering, you’ll receive an email containing information about joining the webinar.
Editor’s note: I am pleased – and slightly surprised – to announce that we are now shipping “The Handcrafted Life of Dick Proenneke” by Monroe Robinson. This book came in much earlier than expected – I didn’t think we would see it until January. Let’s hope this means the paper shortage is abating. Other good news: The book is one of the better print jobs Megan and I have seen from our Tennessee plant. The color reproduction of the vintage photos is spot-on. The book is $52, and customers who buy the book before Dec. 4, 2021, from Lost Art Press will receive a free pdf of the book at checkout.
— Christopher Schwarz
About the Book
Millions of PBS viewers first met Dick Proenneke through the program “Alone in the Wilderness,” which documents Dick’s 30-year adventure in the Alaskan wilderness. On the shores of Twin Lakes, Dick built his cabin and nearly all of the household objects he required to survive, from the ingenious wooden hinges on his front door to the metal ice creepers he strapped to his boots.
And now, “The Handcrafted Life of Dick Proenneke” examines this adventure through the lens of Dick’s tools and the objects he made. Written by Monroe Robinson – the caretaker of Dick’s cabin and his personal effects – the book weaves together vintage photos and entries from Dick’s journals plus new drawings and images to paint a portrait of a man fully engaged in life and the natural world around him.
In 1999, after departing Twin Lakes at the age of 82, Dick donated his cabin and all its contents to the National Park Service. For 19 summers, beginning in 2000, Monroe and his wife, K. Schubeck, served as caretakers for Dick’s cabin, all the while honoring his motto of “keeping it true.” The cabin, its objects and this book show how you can make anything you need from almost nothing. For example:
August 17, 1970: I have been needing a good cutting board. A gas can box end is good but you seldom find one that is not two pieces held together with corrugated fasteners. I had a good wide spruce slab that would make a nice one. I ripped it one and one quarter inch thick. Trimmed it to fourteen inches in length and edged it to nine inches wide. Planed and sanded it smooth and rubbed it with bacon grease.
No one holds a more intimate knowledge of Dick’s handcrafted life than Monroe, and just as Dick shared his life through letters and film, Monroe knew he had a responsibility to share all that he had learned. This book, which includes excerpts from more than 7,000 pages of Dick’s transcribed journals along with hundreds of photos, dozens of illustrations, and Monroe’s thoughtful and detailed commentary, is the result. It’s nonfiction, how-to, adventure and memoir, but at its heart, it’s a guidebook on how to live a life that’s “true,” with materials found and a few simple tools. Appealing to woodworkers, toolmakers, homesteaders, hikers, naturalists, conservationists, survivalists and lovers of Alaska, this book is for those who want to know how one man lived an intentional life, the kind of life many dream of living.
“The Handcrafted Life of Dick Proenneke” is 456 pages, 8-1/2” x 11″, printed in full color on coated #80 matte paper. Its signatures are sewn and secured with fiber tape for durability. The pages are hardbound and covered in cotton cloth. Like all Lost Art Press books, it is produced entirely in the United States.
The free, you-print-it dustjacket – wrapped around the book.
The cover features a diestamp showing Dick’s cabin, which is pressed into a green cotton cover cloth. For those readers who desire a dust jacket, we have made a specially designed one that you can print out on a large-format printer (which you can find at many office supply stores or a reprographics service).
The dust jacket measures 26-5/8″ x 11-1/4″. You can download the free pdf via this link.
Last week we reviewed the final page proofs of Monroe Robinson’s “The Handcrafted Life of Dick Proenneke,” finished up the diestamp (more on that soon) and sent everything to the printer – that felt good. We had hoped to have this book available for purchase by the end of the year, but it may be early 2022. As Chris wrote about here, U.S. printing plants are shutting down and consolidating, and we are working around significant paper shortages.
In the meantime, here’s a short excerpt from the first chapter, Starting from Scratch, written 53 years ago this week. A lot of the book is like this – excerpts from Dick’s journals (in regular font) accompanied by Monroe’s commentary (in italic font) and photography.
— Kara Gebhart Uhl
Dick and Raymond’s J-3 Cub and Elgin canoe, as seen on the first page of chapter 7. (Photo courtesy of the National Park Service)
August 13, 1968:
Today was a day to clean up my leftovers from the cabin. Saw them to length and split them for wood. A good pile by the time I finished.
I drew up plans for the fireplace and they look very satisfactory to me. Now I must try to figure out how much cement it will take. Yesterday I had sawed a few blocks of wood at both the main and guest cabin. Enough to last a day or two. Today I cleared the drift wood from the landing beach and picked up more big rock to make a beach a pilot would enjoy coming in to.
More small jobs – clean up the canoe paddle and give it a coat of shellac. Sharpen and oil the planes and chisels. Ready to return them to the main cabin.
Dick stacked the large rocks he removed from the beach to start a small jetty on the up-country side of the beach. The photo on the first page of chapter 7 shows Dick’s rock-free beach after he and his brother Jake stacked rocks to create a large jetty to protect their J-3 Cub airplane from the west winds.
Glen Alsworth’s fish knife with scaler on the back side. Dick made the sheath from moose leg skin with short hair. (Photo courtesy of the National Park Service)
Millions of PBS viewers first met Dick Proenneke through the program “Alone in the Wilderness,” which documents Dick’s 30-year adventure in the Alaskan wilderness. On the shores of Twin Lakes, Dick built his cabin and nearly all of the household objects he required to survive, from the ingenious wooden hinges on his front door to the metal ice creepers he strapped to his boots.
And now, “The Handcrafted Life of Dick Proenneke” examines this adventure through the lens of Dick’s tools and the objects he made. Written by Monroe Robinson – the caretaker of Dick’s cabin and his personal effects – the book weaves together vintage photos and entries from Dick’s journals plus new drawings and images to paint a portrait of a man fully engaged in life and the natural world around him.
Dick Proenneke lived isolated in miles, but not in spirit. Many visitors came as friends. Others visited and became friends. Dick paid attention to people both when he was with you and through correspondence. If you wrote Dick, he wrote you back. It is hard to imagine an individual who chose to live as remotely as Dick while also nourishing relationships as he did.
Dick’s handcrafted gifts of bowls, spoons and knives can not be separated from his relationship with family, friends and community. His journaling and letter writing fits comfortably alongside his handcrafted gifts. Imagine having dozens of letters to mail through a post office many air miles away, not have any postage stamps and not knowing when someone would fly in with mail and be willing to take outgoing mail.
Far more people sent Dick provisions and gifts than this chapter touches upon. Here are just a few people who touched Dick’s life, and whose lives were touched in return.
July 7, 1968: On up to Lofstedt’s cabin to return a couple magazines borrowed last winter and to search for a good ladder pole. The mission at Nondalton needs a ladder. Babe liked the one I built for my cache and said he would fly one out for the mission if I would build it. It shall be done. The mission girls gone home state side for a year. I hope Babe doesn’t forget who the ladder belongs to before they come back.
July 31, 1968: I had been thinking that I could use a big wooden spoon to spoon my hotcake batter on to the griddle – one spoon full one hotcake. I had looked through my scraps of stump wood and found a couple pieces that looked suitable. I doubt if it took more than an hour to turn out a good looking spoon. I have more wood and I could use a wooden bowl or two.
August 14, 1968: This morning on my way to the cabin for lunch I searched for a spruce tree with a burl. I had seen one in the back forty. I found a big dead tree with one but it isn’t too good. I would cut it off and make a wooden bowl.
August 24, 1968: I have been thinking of trying to turn out a wooden bowl from stump wood. I hollowed it out easy enough but cut it too thin on the outside and broke a chunk out so made kindling of it.
November 22, 1968: I sawed and split some wood and made myself a real nice candleholder from a spruce burl.
Spruce burl bowl and spoons made by Dick, 1972. (Photo by Dick Proenneke, courtesy of the National Park Service)
February 12, 1969: Overcast, a strong breeze down the lake and a +25°. I was really surprised after it being a -26°. Just like spring – I would take advantage of it and carve out a big wooden spoon for Mary Alsworth in exchange for the heavy boot sox. I dug out a good looking stump from the deep snow and went to work. She ordered a spoon with lots of curve to it so that is the way it would be. Nice to be working wood again and not uncomfortable with the temp. a weak 30°. The camp robbers kept me company and one sang a solo. I haven’t heard one sing but a few times but this one sat in a tree near where I worked at my bench and sang for nearly five minutes – he was really happy with the change in temperature.
February 13, 1969: A little squirrel came by as I worked at the woodshed and I watched to see if he acted familiar. He didn’t make the usual circuit checking the stump and butcher block for bones so he is a stranger. With the snow settled he was able to get over the top in fair shape. A wood scrap from the spoon just about right to make a fork so I marked one out and went to work. Under the shed roof at the saw buck – I heard a gentle warbling. There just across from me perched on a tree branch was my little friend, his throat working and a song that could be easily heard. I waited until he was through then cut some meat scraps and put them on the chopping block not three feet from me. Now we had the magpies outsmarted. He would take the meat to the brushy lower branches and eat it there. Nothing but friendly when he is alone but if the other jays are there he hangs back and you would never know him from the others.
The fork completed and it looks pretty good. Still time to saw and split a few blocks.
April 5, 1969: A wooden spoon marked out (makes 10 I have made) so while tending my cooking I sawed it out, scooped out the bowl – trimmed the outside and rasp it to shape. Sand it smooth – if only I was better fixed for good coarse sandpaper.
April 13, 1969: I roughed out a bowl from a spruce burl using wood auger and gouge chisel.
April 20, 1969: A good time to try Jakes coarse emery cloth – finish the spoon I had in the making. Sand a big spruce burl tabletop and work on the bowl that I had roughed out. Inside curves are hard on emery cloth. Seems no time and it is like a rag with no abrasive on it. I rounded the end of a stick of 2 in. spruce from my woodpile. Took my bowl up to the point and dry fine sand, a hand full of sand and much elbow grease to rotate the stick did a fair job. Much like a poor mans sand blaster.
April 25, 1969: Time to sand the inside of my spruce burl bowl. A gift to Mary Alsworth when I get it finished. Payment for all the extra good things to eat that she has sent and for the good mail service. I moved out under the overhang to sand and keep an eye on the lake in case some wild animal might venture out on it.
A mallet Dick made from a very hard spruce limb. (Photo by Monroe Robinson)
June 7, 1969: The first cut of the big burl – what to make of it. Hollow it out and make a super bowl or planter. I went to work with the 11⁄2 inch auger. Ninety-one holes to get it ready to hollow out with axe and chisel. June 9, 1969:
Today I would work on my big spruce burl bowl. A lot of work and I was filling a box with chips. Gouging away and the chisel went over the edge and sliced across the knee of my new Frisco jeans. Only a cut an inch long but exactly where they take the most wear. Lucky that I didn’t cut my knee. As it was I was only scratched. By noon still not done but getting down to the proper thickness. Enough of that exercise for today.
July 8, 1969: A small burl standing by. I would see if I could turn out a bowl while it rained…This one would be a mini bowl – only 4 in. x 5 and 15/8 in. deep. Considerable work goes into hollowing out a burl and sanding it smooth.
July 23, 1969: About a week ago while traveling down country high in the timber and brush below Gold mountain I came across a down tree – dead and with a good burl on the side. A thick one that would make a good bowl about 12 inches or more in diameter and maybe five inches deep. I half surveyed the location so I might find it again.
June 24, 1971 I worked on outgoing mail nearly all morning. Film to pack and letters to write. One full bottle of Sheaffers Skrip ink used since May 16.
May 28, 1972: I was looking for a spruce burl to make a bowl about six or eight inches across. It would have to come from a dead tree and still be sound.
Cleaned ink bottles lining Dick’s outhouse wall. (Photo by Monroe Robinson)
May 29, 1972: Some time to kill till lunch so I gouged out the burl. Not finished by any means but the rough work three fourths done.
June 4, 1972: Today I would stay home. The bowl and spoons to finish. More sanding and then three coats of Humicure (plastic finish) at two-hour intervals. Write letters and do other odd jobs in between coats.
June 9, 1972: If I could find a suitable burl I would make another bowl. I wandered about, thinking I might see a spruce grouse. I haven’t seen one for several days now. A burl on a dead tree but it wasn’t much. I marked the spot by lining up east Cowgill peak and the caribou lying on the bench. I found another not far from Spike’s cabin but on a green tree.
We are pleased to announce that Monroe Robinson (shown above) is hosting Open Wire this Saturday. NB: He’s a time zone or three behind us – so you might have to wait for answers. But don’t wait to post your questions – we’ll still open things up by 8 a.m. EDT, and cut off comments at 5 p.m. EDT)
When I volunteered to be a part of Open Wire, I thought it would be interesting and fun to answer questions about Dick Proenneke, including aspects of his life not included in “The Handcrafted Life of Dick Proenneke.” But when Chris asked me to write a few lines about what I’m currently working on, I realized I had an opportunity to include your ideas in a conversation I am having with myself and others about using tropical hardwoods.
First, a quick life update: My wife, K. Schubeck, and I spend most of our hours during the summer caring for what lies beyond our house and my shop, planting and harvesting our garden, caring for the many flowers, flowering trees and shrubs, picking berries and fruit to freeze, juice or jam. I am trying to perfect the making of intensely flavored jams with little added sweeteners. With each passing year I find myself seeking to share life’s experiences with family, friends and community rather than working by myself.
In September, my friend, Lou Krukar, will visit from Washington to help me make four large dining tables from the most beautiful planks of old-growth redwood I brought out of the forest in the 1990s.
The planks are eight book-matched pieces that were part of a 21’ log that sunk in a local river between 1850 and 1875, when trees were felled with axes and pulled to the river bank with oxen. This log sank on its way to the Big River sawmill and was covered in mud until I pulled it free. The bottom 9’ of the log is wavy grained leaving 12’ of straight and clear redwood above. This will be a collaborative project. First we will crosscut the planks and bring them into my shop to dry under metal roofing. When Lou returns a few months later, we will work on the tables and he will take one home.
Lou Krukar and I will crosscut the 21’ timbers to separate the 9’ x 20”-wide wavy grained end from the remainder.
The tables can be up to 9’ long. Both long edges of the 40”-wide book-matched tabletops will have a pleasing, natural, convex curve.
This is much closer to what clear, old-growth redwood looks like, wet, right off the saw – up to 4’ wide and 16’ long.
On the first day I removed a salvaged old-growth redwood log from the forest in 1992, my partner Roger Moore and I made a commitment that working in the forest would be give and take. I have no reservations of my having lived up to that commitment and am honored to still have many timbers from that dangerous yet special experience. But lately I have been trying to determine the best way to use up a few pieces of precious wood I purchased decades ago, from a place and in a manner that no longer fits with my values. And I am certain I am not the sole craftsperson in this position.
While I attended The Krenov School during its third and fourth years, Jim Krenov spoke a few times about his use of fine woods from around the world. He thought of himself as a single person who used limited amounts of precious woods in the creation of sensitive furniture that honored the wood he used. At the time, I felt as if this interpretation opened the door for my own use of tropical woods. While in the program I made a China hutch from Honduras rosewood (pictured in the introduction of my book) along with a shop-sawn veneered 58” circular dining table with four 12” leaves to match. The two pieces were in the student show at the end of my second year and resulted in my building a similar table for a client. When working up a proposal, I ended up purchasing some wood samples, including cocobolo, Thai rosewood, Andaman padauk and ebony. The client commissioned a 58” circular ebony dining table with eight 13” leaves, 18 folding ebony chairs with hand-caned seats and backs, and a 9’ buffet table that cantilevered from their adobe wall.
Veneered table made from ebony from the Celebes Islands with a hard maple dovetail sliding mechanism.
The sliders for my rosewood table operate as smoothly today as they did 38 years ago. For greater strength and stability, I first sawed the hard maple into strips and then glued them into little glue lam beans. I created a tight-fitting dovetail with a shaper before creating a smooth sliding action with right- and left-handed dovetail planes.
All of the surfaces on the Honduras rosewood and ebony tables were scraped. I first used a Stanley No. 12-1/2 floor scraper I made into a jointer scraper. I then created a smoother surface with thinner and thinner hand scrapers, sharpened with a finer burr. No sandpaper was used. The edge profiles and other surfaces were also scraped. Scraping is perfect for any hardwood that is too difficult to hand plane. I’ve used this process on two large oak dining tables and several coffee tables.
When my client questioned the structure of the 18”-wide buffet cantilevered from their adobe wall, I stood on its outer edge and did a few little jumps. It held solid.
When I built the ebony dining set, I was also writing articles for Fine Woodworkingand teaching a few gigs around the country. I realized I did not want to encourage the use of endangered hardwoods.
I came up with a plan: The retail cost of ebony cost accounted for 10 percent of the entire dining set. I decided I would be willing to build furniture with tropical hardwoods only if I added 10 percent more to the price, which I would then donate to a conservation organization close to the wood’s place of origin. However, future conversations about the impact of tropical wood extraction were enough to sway every client’s interest away from the use of such woods. As such, I have used only local woods for the past three-and-half decades.
That ebony from the Celebes Islands was the last tropical hardwood I purchased. But those samples? They still reside, untouched, on my lumber rack.
As a very young child, I could never understand how people killed almost every buffalo on the plains. What did that do to the people who depended upon them for survival? I wondered. I have maintained a commitment to never be a part of something like that. And yet, despite my convictions, I now find myself having been part of a tragedy of even greater magnitude for the world’s environment and possibly our own survival.
Creating surfaces from beautiful woods has always been what excites me most about working with fine wood. Everything I do beyond that supports the expression of that surface. I have enough of each of the sample woods I’ve mentioned to create a sizable buffet table. I plan to collaborate with a friend, Doug Carmichael, to make a wrought iron base for at least a table or two. Another friend, Tony Perelli, will make two candle holders and a set of hors d’oeuvre saucers to live with each table. Once my friends are compensated I plan to donate at least 50 percent of what remains of the selling price to conservation in the country of the wood’s origin.
Here are some of my questions: Is it possible to get a permit to sell a piece of rosewood furniture even though I no longer have the original invoice? I wish I had never purchased this wood, but I can’t undo what I’ve done. Making something beautiful, to be owned with reverence and knowing that the profit goes to conservation, is the best I can think to do. Any suggestions?
And now I look forward to answering your questions as well!
Finally, if you wish to keep in touch, my email is monroe@mcn.org.
