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. The italic text after Dick’s journal entries is commentary by Robinson.
June 28, 1968:
Today I would build some furniture. First a kitchen chair and then a bench three feet long. I had them both ready to glue by 11:30. Back on the job I augured the hole for my table legs and the bunk poles were ready. I could sort, cut and fit them in. I’m near the end of the job of building on the cabin until I get a plane, glue and polyethylene for the roof. By the time I had the scraps cleaned up and tools sharpened as I do every evening it was time to call it a day.
Three-foot bench. (Photo by Monroe Robinson)
In 1995, Dick wrote, “My chair still giving trouble. One back rest support broke off at the hole in the seat foundation. I would shorten it a bit and shape a new end to fit in the hole with the broken support end. Working like a beaver when here came a Cessna 180.”
My replicated chair without caribou pad. Note the black bear tooth punctures in the end of the seat. (Photo by Monroe Robinson)
In 2001, a black bear broke the chair when it climbed through Dick’s nine-pane window to pull the chair and its caribou fur pad outside. I repaired Dick’s chair only to have it break when someone leaned back too far. I replicated his chair, repaired this new break and sent Dick’s chair to the archives.
In replicating the chair, I particularly focused on drilling the mortise holes for the legs and back rest at angles matching Dick’s. The chair’s stance, the splay and rake of the legs, along with the angle of the backrest support-post, make it a beautiful and comfortable chair. The back legs splay back a few degrees more than the front legs, and the back legs are slightly shorter. The chair looks simple but most handcrafted chairs at wilderness cabins are not crafted like this. Dick’s matter-of-fact approach did not mean a thrown together, uncomfortable chair. And constructing a handsome chair did not mean taking all day.
When a black bear, in 2015, managed to turn the handle of Dick’s door and pull out my replicated chair with a new caribou pad along with Dick’s four-legged stool with his original caribou pad, it was apparent the fur created an attracting odor. All fur was removed from Dick’s cabin.
I’m always a bit surprised by what sells well each year. I look at our sales every morning, track inventory and try to figure out our next step. But rarely do I step back and look at the big sales picture. Except for today. Here are the 10 best selling Lost Art Press/Crucible products of 2023 by units sold.
“Sharpen This” This pocket book came out in September 2022, yet we’ve already printed 14,000 of these little suckers. It is my fastest-selling book (whatever that’s worth). If you buy it from us, I sign each copy personally and we include a PG-13 Slightly Naughty sticker.
“The Woodworker’s Pocket Book” Another surprise, really. This has to be the best woodworking book for the bathroom. You can flip to any page and learn something interesting about finishing formulas, wood species or 18th century mouldings listed by furniture style.
“The Handcrafted Life of Dick Proenneke” This book continues to sell thanks to the fact that 1) It’s a simply amazing read and 2) The incredible popularity of the PBS series about Dick. The author took care of Dick’s cabin for years and was the perfect (and authorized) person to write this book.
“The Essential Woodworker” We reissued this book in 2010 with the help of the author, Robert Wearing, and it is now in its 10th printing. This book continues to sell because you can read it in a short afternoon and it connects all the dots with handwork. It is simple (but not simplistic), perfectly illustrated and simply the right book for those who want to work with hand tools.
“Make a Gibson Chair” Video. This one isn’t a surprise. The video came out this year and shows how to make one of the most comfortable (and simple) stick chairs ever.
“Workshop Wound Care” Another great and much-needed pocket book. This book should be in every shop. Not because it will help LAP financially or make you a better woodworker, but because you will need its advice some day when things go wrong. Not if – when.
“Crucible Engraving Tool” We’ve sold more than 1,000 of these suckers, and I can’t wait to see what woodworkers do with them. We are out of stock this minute, but we have another 500 on the way in the next week or two. So sign up to get notified when we restock.
“Euclid’s Door” This book, released in 2021, had a slow start but picked up steam in 2023. “Euclid’s Door” teaches you practical geometry as you build some very useful and accurate wooden shop tools. It’s fun and eye-opening. And the next book in the series (coming in 2024) will bring even more fans into the “By Hand & Eye” fold.
“Karvsnitt” Jogge Sundqvist’s second book with Lost Art Press dives into the world of chip-carving, spells and color. Like all of Jogge’s work, this book is engaging, fun and inspiring.
“With the Grain” Again, what the heck? This book is in its seventh printing and continues to sell and sell. I think I know why: It’s a no-nonsense guide to what you need to know about wood technology at the bench. There are much more scientific books out there, but you won’t find a more practical one.
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.
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.
[Monroe Robinson] replaced the two posts that hold the back rest prior to this 2009 photo of Dick’s beach chair because his posts had both rotted beyond use. (Photo by Monroe Robinson)
The following is excerpted from “The Handcrafted Life of Dick Proenneke,” by Monroe Robinson. 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.
June 27, 1967: What to do today – fog hung low along the mountains I had been wanting to build a short bench using a near half section of log. I knew where there was just the log section to do it – up the Farmer’s property line and past the corner where Fred Cowgill had sawed his boards. I took my pack board and axe and paddled down. It was a heavy chunk and I had a bit of trouble getting on my feet after getting into the shoulder straps of the pack board lashed to the chunk. The surveyors had cut a few small spruce when they brushed out his property lines. These would be just right for legs. I had a good load coming back to the point. I couldn’t split the chunk – too many knots so I would cut it down with axe and adz. I had the adz good and sharp and the chips did fly. It looked as if someone had built a cabin. The chips are the best of kindling. I cut it down better than half – dished it a bit, peeled the bark, sawed the ends square. Augured holes for legs. No bit large enough so I used the 5-inch chisel to enlarge the holes. I sawed and peeled the legs – trimmed them to fit, split the ends and made wedges to tighten them in the holes. Drove the legs in the holes with the adz head. Cut them down to one foot six over all height and she was the finished product. One foot eight and a half-inches long, thirteen-inches wide.
June 29, 1967: I would spend the afternoon building a backrest for my short bench. The end I had cut off was already shaped on the front. I slabbed off the back side and worked it down with the axe, auger some holes and make some pegs to mount it with. By evening it was ready to put on. Weather had turned sour down country and getting that way here.
June 30, 1967: By adding a backrest my short bench became a chair – quite comfortable and very rustic.
With only an axe, saw, chisel, wood auger, adz, pocketknife & rule a man could furnish a cabin and not be ashamed of his furniture. The chair completed and the weather fairing up a bit I would give Hope Creek a try.
Adze. (Photo by Monroe Robinson)
What started out to be a “short bench” turned into a comfortable chair. Dick placed it at the base of a spruce tree on the beach near his cabin. It was a favorite spot for Dick to sit reading, writing or taking in the ever-changing grandeur of “One Man’s Wilderness.”
After looking at Dick’s cabin, visitors frequently gravitate to his beach chair where they are immersed in the raw beauty of Twin Lakes. Visitors have told us that their image of “wilderness” will forever be their time at Dick’s cabin and Twin Lakes.
K. frequently took visitors on a short walk beyond Dick’s woodshed. Within a few yards, Dick’s cabin, cache and woodshed are no longer visible. Visitors can no longer see the floatplane that flew them to Twin Lakes. They can no longer see any overhead power lines, roads or trails. They can only hear the sounds of wilderness. Often visitors would say something like, “Oh, now I can see why Dick moved here.” It is a moment they will remember for as long as they remember Dick’s cabin.
Dick sitting in his beach chair in 1992. (Photo by Dick Proenneke, courtesy of the National Park Service)
August 2, 1968: I need a stool out side to sit things on when opening the door and such. I have a twelve-inch log from the tree I removed to build the cabin. I would saw off a 10-inch length and put the legs on the end. Give them a flare so it wouldn’t tip over if you stepped up onto it.
A thin cut to even it up. The cut looked so nice why not make more thin cuts and plane them smooth and use them for placemats and hot pads to set hot pans on. It would save my plastic tablecloth.
These placemats were “badly soiled by freeloaders” sometime during the winter of 1969-1970. There are photographs of the placemats Dick made to replace the badly soiled ones later in this chapter.
August 10, 1968: Today among other things I would build my butchers block for outside the door. A 10″ length of 11-inch log with three legs. It was finished in short order.
(Above) The bottom of Dick’s water bucket stand. (Photo by Daniel Papke, courtesy of the National Park Service)
The “butcher block” is the “stool” Dick started to build on August 2. The butcher block only resided in front of Dick’s cabin for a short time, until he constructed a pair of spruce burl tables that remain there today. Dick moved the butcher block into the corner of his cabin where it became the stand for his galvanized water bucket and drinking cup. See 1969 photo on Page 181.
Dick moved his butcher block table inside for use as a water bucket stand. (Photo by Monroe Robinson)
How about making a diagonal cut on the same log and slice off a 5/8″ slab or two. I sawed one and it was very even so I planed it that brought the grain and growth rings into view. I cut another not quite as true but real close so I planed it too. They will make nice decorations for wall or mantle. I gave the backside of them a coat of clear shellac and bees wax on the smooth side to keep them from checking. If it will I’m not sure.
I needed more movies of my latest improvements so hauled out the camera gear and hope to have some interesting shots.
This diagonal cut sat on Dick’s fireplace mantle for some time. He later used it as a plaque for a beautiful spoon to hang on the wall with the words, “Twin Lakes Champion – Sourdough Biscuits and Beans.”
“Twin Lakes Champion – Sourdough Biscuits and Beans” plaque. The plaque was made from a slice of the stump Dick removed from his cabin site. (Photo by Harper’s Ferry Center, courtesy of the National Park Service)
March 4, 1969: Time enough to sand Hope’s wooden spoon. A chunk of wood for a seat in the warm sun I sanded it to perfection. I do believe this was the most pleasant day of 1969.
Dick dug out this spruce stump from his cabin site in 1967. (Photo by Monroe Robinson)
The tree stump Dick removed from his cabin site became the wood he used to make his butcher block, placemats and plaque for his sourdough spoon. The seat Dick “sanded to perfection” sits on one of the stump’s roots where it makes a comfortable place to sit with your back against a tree. From there you can see the front of Dick’s cabin.
Here [Monroe Robinson is] sitting at the base of the stump, as Dick would have done. (Photo by K. Schubeck)
