Salted Roots

This project has been a long time in the making. In 2014 my wife and I were at a crossroads. We worked too much and none of it seamed to add up. So after several late nights of throwing ideas around we woke up one morning and quit our jobs and sold everything. Over the course of a few rambling years we drove from San Diego to Alaska to Nicaragua and back. This isn't one of those instagram stories about our 100k van and how we are roughing it in luxury - #missingthepoint. We lived in our Rav4 and yes there were incredible moments of bliss and enlightenment and then there was also the reality of finding the next shower or where to lay low while battling dengue fever or just the general stench of a RAV4 in a humid climate. After those years we eventually missed a place to settle and recharge. You know, a home.

We bought land in Seward, Alaska which suckered us in on a sunny day. We wanted to build a destination for travelers like ourselves - those looking to be inspired by spaces, places, and people. We wanted to build a place where any traveler, be it a dirtbag, vagabond, or curious adventure, could call home. The property was raw land and we would talk over boxes of wine and campfires to sort out what would go where and what it would all look like. The name of our property - Salted Roots - is from a few remaining trees that succumbed to the ocean due to 1964 earthquake and what remains are these petrified ghost pines from the salt water. These cabins are our first phase of a bigger project. We are going to build a tree-house, some funky greenhouse units, and a beach-side event space that can host yoga retreats and small weddings. We're also in the middle of building what will be where we live which is a 40ft defunct bus from the 70s.

This design came about from trying to get more square footage out of an Aframe. We love how Aframes provide an opportunity to create a forced perspective - the windows are front and back so you can really impact the guest's view. We also wanted a different look, and we ended up with a Swedish Death Star sort of appeal but among the trees it looks like it belongs. But really, this entire build started with the bathroom. We wanted something decidedly posh and extravagant. Travel really begins when things go sideways and your careful plans go to hell - so it's nice that the place you stay can become a refuge. And we found much our travels to be inspired by the places we stayed. The spacious interior and sharp pitch make this 900 square feet space feel cavernous. The Aframes are on stilts to get above the forest floor. In the summer, Alaska grows at a quick clip and the forest quickly becomes overhead. From the deck you'll be in above the frey and with a view of the bay and hopefully catch a whale in view. The kitchen is more than enough for short or prolonged stays. The wood pellet stove is toasty and makes a visit in the winter worth its while. We set out to create a refuge for the not so common vagabond, to convert tourists into travelers, and to reshape one's view in how they see themselves. What we didn't expect is how much we would change during the build. We have a puppy. My wife is pregnant. We have a home and are still very much homeless. It's hilarious. We wrapped up construction in March 2020 - just as the travel restrictions and hunker down orders were put in place - a reminder of what I said earlier.... travel begins when things go sideways. It's a journey - hopefully on yours you can find us and call us home for a night.