Roofing the Cabin

Feb-Aug 2012

It’s a multi-season, big-effort adventure to get metal roofing materials to a remote cabin.  But a fun and rewarding adventure it was.

Our cabin is in NorthWestern Canada, and very remote by most people’s standards.  It’s a 4-hour drive from my home to the end of the road.  Then a 28km ride by boat in the summer, or snowmobile in the winter.  There are no other cabins within a 1-mile radius, and no other cabin is visible from ours.  We have 13 virgin lakes within a 2-mile radius. The terrain is rugged Precambrian Shield.  This is a spectacular place for solitude and connecting with the natural world, as no unwanted guests would venture to find us there.

But the trade-off … it’s a challenge to do construction projects at the cabin.  With the ‘full-travel-day’ to get there, every project must be thoroughly planned, as there is no recovery if a part or tool has been forgotten. 

And how do we get 21 foot sheets (7meters) of metal roofing across a 28km lake?

It’s not practical to haul the metal roofing in the summer across the water, as we don’t have a barge or boat to accommodate such a load. We decide to haul the metal roofing in the winter across the ice and snow, as we can build a long sled that can be pulled by a snowmobile.
So now this becomes a multi-season (winter and summer) project.


21 foot Metal Roofing sheet across the ice by Snowmobile

We modify a utility trailer to carry the metal roofing, and we truck this from our home to the lake.  February is best-choice for ice-travel when it’s reasonably warm, yet the ice is still 3 feet (1 meter) thick and can support a truck. Fortunately for us, someone has plowed an ‘ice-road’ part way across the lake to where they are fishing with nets under the ice.  We drive our truck and trailer loaded with metal roofing to the end of the ice-road, and unload the metal roofing onto the ice.  The metal roofing is amazingly heavy, so we decide to split it into 4 sled-loads.  We transfer a quarter of the metal sheets from the ice onto our sled. 

Try not to tip the load

on the winding narrow portage trail

Since part of our route to the cabin is on the ice, and part is through ‘portages’ over land, and the portages are narrow and winding, we have to load the sheets vertically.  This is a very top-heavy load, so we travel very slowly (about double our walking-speed) to avoid tipping the load and wrinkling the metal sheets.  The last part of the trip, from the ice up a rocky slope to our cabin, is the most challenging.  The trail is winding, narrow, and steep.  The snowmobile loses traction, digs into the snow, and gets stuck.  The vertical load wants to tip over on the uneven trail, so my brother walks behind to keep the load upright. 

Metal Roofing delivered to the Cabin

After considerable grunting, lifting, shoveling, and sweating we deposit our first load of metal roofing near the cabin.  Over the next 2 days, we repeat this process 4 times, until all the precious metal roofing is stacked near the cabin. 

We are finished the winter-portion of the project.

In Summer (July), 2 long hard days are spent on the roof – removing the old shingles, then installing the new metal roofing.  Our planning and material-list and tools-list were all good.  A chimney flashing didn’t fit as expected – and there is no practical recovery from this, as it takes 10 hours of travel-time to get another flashing.  So the chimney flashing part of the project will wait for next trip.



Chimney Flashing Installed



 In August, we return to the cabin for another week of solitude.  And of course bring with us the new chimney flashing. 

It took 3 trips, 7 months elapsed time, winter & summer, over ice & water, for this roofing project.

It took multi-season planning and was physically challenging, but it was a fine adventure and a rewarding accomplishment.  This new metal roofing should be good for at least 30 years.  At age 62, this may be the last roof I will haul to the cabin.

… and yes, I did this with a colostomy

Ostomate Carries a Moose

Oct 2010

As an ostomate I have been told … avoid extreme activities, don’t lift big weights, don’t over-exert.  As a hunter I have been told … never hunt alone, a moose is too big for 1 person to handle, you need a truck or a quad for moosehunting.    I ignored all these suggestions.

I was reluctant to write this story, not wanting to offend those who dislike hunting, nor those who decline to eat meat. I have full respect for those differing opinions, and make no attempt to change them.  I hope others will quietly allow me mine.

In 2009 I was recovering from cancer and a colostomy, so didn’t hunt, and wondered if I would be able to hunt again.  It became a must-do on my Ostomy Bucket list. 

There are 3 parallel forces that take me hunting.  Philosophically … I easily connect with the natural world, and feel very comfortable and belonging while alone in the bush.  And Practically ….for the past 20 years, several families anticipate the steaks, roasts, and burger from my moose hunts.  And Ancestrally ... there is something buried deep in the reptile part of our brain that makes us hunters, gatherers, and survivors.  And yes, perhaps spending too much time alone in the bush, conjures up such thoughts :)

A Canada Moose stands 6 feet (2metres) tall at the shoulders, and can weigh up to 1500 pounds (700Kgs). 

My location is NorthWestern Canada.  I drive 4 hours from my home to the end of the road, then 28km by boat to my cabin.  I will be alone, and I will hunt every day for the next 10 days.  Here is a typical day. 

I woke to the alarm at 4:30am.  Made a thermos of coffee and ate a bowl of porridge.  Left the cabin at 5:00am.  It was very dark this morning, as it was cloudy and with almost no moon.  When it is this dark, it’s good to have the route in my head, and take clues from surrounding terrain to avoid being lost or hitting rocks.  After a dark 4km boatride, I transferred to a canoe and paddled 400meters up a small creek. Canoeing up the creek is more difficult than the lake travel, as I am low to the water, the creek is only 2meters wide with tall reeds growing on both sides, and VERY winding.  I did some moose cow-calls that can be heard (by bull moose) for up to 5 kms.  

By 10:30am it was obvious that no bull moose would be showing this morning, so I reversed my route and returned to the cabin.  Lunch, a short nap, a few chores, then back out for the evening hunt from about 4:00pm to sunset at 7:30pm.

These are long days, with 8-9 hours of sitting, silently, and moving only my eyeballs.  Many similar days passed.  On a typical moosehunting day … nothing happens.

One morning, I thought I heard a moose walking slowly in the creek, then quickly climb the bank, splashing as he lunged out of the water.  This added to a number of events that have tricked me over the years.  The noise was actually a flock of ducks that had probably slept in a bay on the creek.  A few started to move and stretch their wings, then they all stretched and splashed thru the water as they took flight.  Not a moose, but a new, exciting, and uncommon observation anyway.

On day 7, I woke to the alarm at 4:30am.  It was drizzling, and the forecast was for light rain all morning.  Staying in bed seemed tempting, but I decided to go hunting anyway.  It was so dark – no moon and heavy clouds.  Navigating in the dark was difficult as the terrain-clues were harder to see, and distance from shore was difficult to judge.  I traveled at lower speed, but it seemed like I was going way too fast for conditions (like overdriving your headlights, except there was no light).  At 9:30am the drizzle was tempting me to go back to the cabin, but then I heard a branch snap.  Doesn’t count as a moose until I have at least 3 clues (branch snaps, grunts, raking antlers, walking in water…) or actually SEE the moose.  He was just a silhouette, standing in the heavy bush.  I had to use binoculars to positively identify him.  I wanted a broadside shot, so waited.  Finally, at 40 yards, he turned and stood broadside, and I hit him with a good double-lung shot. He walked away, about 30 yards and went down.  I watched him thru the binoculars.  

I took a few pictures, then gathered my things, and went back to the cabin.  I assembled the gear I would need, ate a hearty meal, then returned to the site.  He had gone down in a burned area, so the entire forest floor was black and all the dead trees and shrubs were black.  And of course my clothes were blackened with the char.  I was glad that he wasn’t a big moose (there are no small moose when you are working alone).  Young or big or full-of-shit guys talk about quartering a moose.  A moose is only as heavy as the pieces you cut, so I cut him into ninths.  I hauled each piece about 50 yards, and loaded the 9 pieces in the boat.  

It was 5:30pm when I got back to the cabin.  It was tough lifting to get all the pieces from the boat up onto the dock.  It took 2 full hours to clean the pieces and  wrap them in bedsheets (to keep them clean and keep any flies off them).  It was dark by the time I finished.  

It was a long hard day for a 61-year-old ostomate to handle a moose by himself.  

Despite the excitement of the day, sleep came easily that night.

This was an exhausting but immensely rewarding day for me.  Another Ostomy BucketList accomplishment 
… yes, I can still moosehunt with an ostomy.

And I earned freedom from ‘the rules’…

avoid extreme activities ... NOT

don’t lift big weights ... NOT

don’t over-exert ... NOT

never hunt alone ... NOT

a moose is too big for 1 person to handle ... NOT

need a truck or quad for moosehunting ... NOT

HockeyGear: StomaGuard

I had traded Rectal Cancer for a Resection and Permanent Colostomy, and 4 months later I was back playing hockey.  I was naturally concerned about herniating, and about stoma-damage by rubbing or impacts.

Hockey is a rough game.  The best hockey players are big, strong, fast, aggressive, and mean.  I only have the ‘fast’, and some players are double my weight.  I have always worn the best protective equipment to avoid injuries.  And that was before I had a colostomy and stoma. 

I first tried playing with just an unprotected pouch. As my stoma was on-line with my hockey pants belt, the rubbing was an obvious problem. I was feeling unsupported and insecure about herniating, and certainly nervous about impacts.  So I quit this experiment after 1 game.

I then tried playing with the Convatec Stoma Cap Cover and a Nu-Hope Ostomy Girdle.   I used this setup for most of 2 years, and it gave me moderate impact protection, and good hernia support.  But the girdle cost some flexibility of movement, and there was slippage of both the Stoma Cap Cover and the girdle, which stressed my flange adhesive.

I wanted superior impact protection, similar hernia support, with better flexibility.  I talked with Bob Zurowski from Stomaplex and got the answer.  

Freedom-Guard's outer shield is strong enough to take hockey impacts, but can be bent to fit the abdominal contour. The belt is comfortable on my skin, and gives good hernia protection without restricting flexibility or mobility.  The U-shaped padding holds the appliance in place, while protecting the stoma.  I wanted extreme protection for hockey, so Bob built the neoprene padding out to 5/8 inch.  I was pleasantly surprised that the Freedom-Guard stays in place, with no shifting or sliding, even with the hockey-belt right on the Freedom-Guard, and the hockey pants moving as I stretch, bend, and rotate.

With the Freedom-Guard, I feel confident the appliance will stay secure. 

I feel supported for hernia protection, and I know I am safe from impacts.

Now the real game-day testimonials. It has been mentioned that I play bigger than my size (‘he’s only 150 pounds, but plays like he’s 190). I think that is intended to be complimentary, but that style is hard on my body.  In 55 years of hockey I made a quick count of 3 concussions requiring hospitalization, 12 broken bones, 3 shoulder separations, and 1 torn knee.  A colostomy hasn’t changed that style. I have taken hits, crashed into the boards, fallen on the ice, blocked shots, and been speared with sticks.  

Sometimes I hurt.  But my stoma has never been hurt. 

It is a real testament to StomaPlex that I can continue to play that style with warranted confidence.

Read Prior posts on

My Comeback to Hockey

HockeyGear:Cup&Girdle

I receive NO financial benefit for sharing this experience and product review

Penalties for Not Listening

Hockey player Paul Riome didn’t listen to his body or his doctor.  

Minor Penalty was undetected cancer.  Major Penalty was a permanent colostomy.  

Riome tells of his experiences, attitude adjustments, and comeback to hockey. 

The story is about overcoming colorectal cancer 

and showing other hockey “tough-guys” the importance of prevention.

Even with daily rectal bleeding for over 2 years, I refused tests and examinations.

“You got Cancer ...  Life-expectancy is uncertain”.  Reminiscent of nasty and unexpected hockey hits, I asked myself  “what the hell was that for?”  Of course there was no answer, but I adjusted quickly and vowed that after surgery, I would do everything that I could do before surgery, and I would play hockey again. 

Surgery day arrived.  A nurse fussed to be sure the hospital gown covered my backside.  I joked at the silly gesture, as a dozen people would see everything I had, from the outside and the inside. 

After 6 hours of surgery, “I am back and I am alive!”

During recovery at the hospital, I set my sights on completing what I named a sprint, a half-marathon, and a full-marathon (actually … a shuffle to the doorway, to the nursing station, then a full loop around the ward). 

The rehab routine was similar to hockey injuries, but the outcome would be drastically different, as the surgery damages could never be restored.  With trepidation, I started Public Skating, surrounded by grandparents teaching pre-school kids to skate.

Exactly four months after surgery, I was back playing hockey.  I was amazed at how many players made a point of acknowledgement, usually with the back-handed male style

‘… Nice you’re back, looking dangerous as ever’

‘… I always hated going into the corner with you, but now I’m really afraid of the sh*t flying’

‘… I thought with your butt sewn shut, that your stride would be shorter’  

After an aggressive altercation around the net, a large and hostile defenseman pummeled me with a verbal tirade of hockey-trash-talk.  I said ‘you can’t really call me that, because I don’t even have one’.  Instantly he went silent, smiled, put his arm around my shoulder, and said in amazement “you’re the one”. 

Hockey team-mates were curious, so I volunteered to answer any questions they had, and show them anything they wanted to see.  They all related to the red-neck attitude that prevents us from having rectal examinations and colonoscopies, even while knowing that these procedures are effective lifesavers.  

Earlier tests, with earlier detection, probably would have ‘saved my ass’ 

and I may have avoided the surgery and permanent colostomy  

Several wives (mostly with tears) told me it was my experience 

that convinced their husband to get a colonoscopy. 

I am humbly pleased that others have benefitted from my experiences

An ostomy is not as good as the original equipment 

but I get to live

Two years ago my doctor told me I could have a perfectly normal life with a colostomy. 

     I didn’t believe him then.  

     I do believe him now.

CLICK HERE to Read the full story published by The Phoenix magazine

Greg Doesn’t Golf anymore

Greg was the spark that started this Living Bigger With Colostomy blog. 

Greg golfed 6 days a week for 30 summers, then was diagnosed with T3 colon cancer, which resulted in surgery for a colostomy, as well as chemo and radiation.  

Greg quit golfing, fearing the embarrassment of changing a pouch while his golf-buddies waited, or the horrors of a pouch explosion.

Greg also quit driving and riding in a car, for fear of the seatbelt rubbing on his stoma.

Greg declined to lift grocery bags, for fear of a hernia.

Greg stayed in his house, intentionally remaining inactive, and gained enough weight that his pants didn’t fit.  So he started wearing his pouch outside his pants.  With this new humiliation, he refused to leave his house … so both Greg and his wife became reclusive.  This soon dragged both of them into a depression which brought apathy, and lowered confidence and motivation.  Soon Greg’s wife was changing his appliances for him, and they spiraled down together.

Greg and I talked a lot.  Cautiously, I shared many of my positive and active experiences living a normal life with a colostomy – wanting to show that he and his wife could live bigger, yet not wanting to intimidate with my adventures that would be unbelievable and unrealistic for him.  We had a few successes:

• Seatbelts – I drive, and carried a backpack with a hipbelt for 40 days.  Its OK for Greg to drive and ride.
• Pouch on the Outside – Buy pants 2 inches bigger, wear suspenders, and get the pouch back inside your pants!
• Pouch Explosions Golfing – I have golfed for 2 years and played over 100 hockey games (taking hits and blocking shots) and have never had an explosion. Greg is safe to golf ... and no reason to be embarrassed changing pouches on the golf-course, being much more environmentally sensitive than his buddies that relieve beer-overloads in the bushes.

 These small incremental successes are positive and encouraging.

Golfing with Greg is now on my bucket list !

Nepal2011: We are SO Fortunate

May 2011

We are unimaginably wealthy, compared to Nepalese standards …

Nepal is the poorest country in South Asia, and the 12th poorest country in the world

Average ANNUAL income is $450

57% of Nepalese live for under $60 per month -  30% live for under $12 per month

50% of Nepalese children under 5 years of age, are malnourished

Life expectancy for men is 63 years, and for women is 64 years.  Less in the countryside

Child mortality is the highest in Asia.  Maternal mortality is the highest in the world

Education, HealthCare and Drinking Water are NOT available to all

To travel in Nepal is to step into the bottom of the Third World. 

We have so much – they have so little.  

Yet it seems most countryside Nepalese are happier than we are.

Public Transportation means you walk

There are few roads.  Everything is hauled on someone’s back

Housing standards are not the same as ours

Stone buildings means every ‘brick’ is hand carved

In the countryside, there are no flush toilets

These woman in these kitchens will prepare meals for 20 guests

Nepalese People work hard

Yet Nepalese people seem genuinely happy

Sometimes we may think life is treating us badly so we feel justified to complain

But our hardships are insignificant in comparison with the life struggles of most Nepalese people. 

I found no Ostomy Supplies in Nepal. 

Our Nepalese guide was shocked by my Colostomy,

having never even heard about ostomies.  

It occurred to me that there are few (if any) ostomates in Nepal. 

People in Nepal don’t have ostomies – they just die

Considering this alternative ...

We are all so very fortunate to be alive

We should not complain. Ever.

Nepal2011: Colostomy Got Me Here

May 2011

Trekking to Everest Base Camp was an absolutely awesome trek! 

I can honestly say there was not a single minute when I thought I would rather be somewhere else.  Really!

I couldn’t dream for more … 

Spectacular Nepalese landscape

Happy & friendly Nepalese people

A varied but like-minded team from Canada

Physically & mentally challenging trek



Trekking to Everest Base Camp

was on my ‘bucket list’ for decades.

Cancer & Colostomy motivated me to

Just do it !

Nepal2011: Summit Kala Patthar

May 2011

For trekkers wanting the big-view of Everest … overnight at Gorak Shep, wake-up at 3:45am, ascend Kala Patthar in the dark, and watch the sunrise on Everest.  But, It’s not that easy. 

Acute Mountain Sickness (AMS) is caused by a combination of reduced air pressure and lower oxygen levels at high altitudes [beyond 2400m / 8000ft].  Gorak Shep is 5164m / 16942m.  Kala Patthar is 5545m / 18192ft.  By the time we reached Gorak Shep, AMS had taken its toll on our group.  Some people stayed in their warm sleeping bags, rather than face the dark, cold, windy, harshness of the climb – for days they have been hurting from AMS-induced dizziness, fatigue, lethargy, and screamer-headaches.  Some of us were fortunate to not have these symptoms, nor the rib-rattling cough, nor the loss-of-appetite that robs strength and resolve. 

The climb is long, slow, and relentless.  The air has 50% of the oxygen that we expect at sea-level.  Lungs work harder to compensate.  Heartrate rises to force more blood to the big muscles. Muscles resist and retaliate when being pushed on half-rations of oxygen.  We each

struggle to find the strength and drive

to continue moving upward.  

Few words are spoken.  People stop for their own reasons - maybe only a rest, or to clear their foggy brain, or to question the pain vs the reward of this summit, or to deal with the nausea & pending vomiting, or from their body’s refusal to continue.  It’s not predictable who will be stopped by AMS.

Kala Patthur with Pumori in the background

I could see the prayer flags ripping on the wind swept summit.  How hard could it be to climb those last 100 meters?  I was amazed at how slowly I progressed.  Focusing mindlessly on my feet, it occurred to me that 

Each step was less

than the length of my boots! 

I was pushing myself, mentally and physically, and 

All I had left was 6 inch strides!  

My thoughts were simple.

Keep moving ... just one step at a time. 

  

2 Cancer Survivors and our guide Ganesh at Kala Patthur summit

Six of our team, ages 57 to 62 summitted Kala Patthar.  Summiting was worth the pain.The clouds cleared and the sun rose, showing  Everest with its perennial plume of snow blowing over its summit.

We spent 45 minutes on top of Kala Patthar, celebrating our accomplishment, hanging prayer flags, and taking pictures, yet regretting the absence of fellow-trekkers with whom we had shared the last 20 days.  The walk down had less physical exertion, but we remained focused, well aware of the perils of fatigue while descending.

Everest as seen from summit of Kala Patthur

Why did elders summit, when younger people didn’t?  
Maybe the elders were attuned to their aging bodies and avoided AMS by methodically moving ‘mountain-slow’.  Maybe the elders knew this was a once-in-a-lifetime shot, and they wouldn’t quit until they had nothing left.

Living Bigger with Colostomy on Kala Patthar summit 

Rob Hill climbed the SevenSummits

I climbed Kala Patthar

We all have our own mountains to climb.

Yes we can.  Ostomates can climb mountains.

For another perspective of this event, read what trip leader Tami wrote:

http://twofeetoneworld.blogspot.ca/2011/05/senior-citizens-summit-kala-patar-5545.html

For Rob Hill's campaign of the SevenSummits, read:
http://nogutsknowglory.com/the-7summits/

Ostomy Gear for BackPacking

Hiking and Trekking can take us to some spectacular places, explore our planet, connect with the natural world, and engage interesting people and cultures.  But BackPacking is hard work. 

BackPacking can be tough on ostomates. 

BackPacking means we carry the gear we need for the duration of the trip (maybe a day, a week, or a month). I keep pack-weight to an absolute minimum, knowing enjoyment is inversely proportional to the weight of my pack. BackPacking for DayHikes means small loads of about 15 pounds.  Trekking requires all the gear needed to be self-contained, and packs can be 40 pounds. 

West Coast Trail - Canada

Mount Everest BaseCamp - Nepal

The most efficient way to carry a pack all day long, is by relying on the HipBelt to move the weight from shoulders to hips. 

Great idea, but the HipBelt rides directly on my stoma, and can peel the flange.  

  

     My experience adapting

Stoma Cup

Spandex Shorts

So ... I use a Stoma Cup to protect my stoma,

and prevent rubbing that could peel the flange. 

Then I keep it all together and avoid

‘the pendulum swing’ with spandex shorts.

 StomaGuard

But the compression, and pressure, and rubbing by the HipBelt was still uncomfortable and a flange-peeling-risk.  So I custom-built a StomaGuard to keep a gap between the HipBelt and my stoma.  It’s a piece of aluminum bar, bent to follow the shape of my abdomen, with a bump-out to avoid my stoma.  Pressure from the pack weight and tightening the belt, is spread over my abs, but leaves a gap over my stoma. 

StomaGuard Top-View

Custom-Built StomaGuard

StomaGuard with 'bump-out' to prevent stoma-rubs

I have been BackPacking for over 60 days. 

Never had any damage to my stoma. 

Never had a leak or explosion.

Never had an ostomy-related problem. 

Never missed an opportunity for a BackPacking trip.

Yes we can.  Ostomates can go Hiking, BackPacking, and Trekking