Ray Rogers Handcrafted Knives

Where the Heck is Wauconda and Why Do I Live There?

Wauconda is a very small town in northeastern Washington state. Officially, it seems to have been declared a ghost town ( for more on this go here after you finish looking around my site). Downtown consists of a post office and a cafe, both in the same building. I live 10 miles from the post office, about 30 miles from the nearest gas station, and 55 miles from a movie theater. There is only one stop light in a hundred mile radius of my home.

My 40 acre slice of heaven is in the mountains, in a valley, near Indian reservations, near the Okanogan Forrest, near Canada. OK, too near Canada but nothing's perfect (just kidding Canucks!). There is only one other person who lives year round in this valley and he's a mile and a half further in.

When I arrived here there was an old cabin that everyone said should be burned and not much else - no water, no electricity, no phone. And, that's the way it was for the first six weeks I was here.

You can see a blue blob on top of the cargo container. That's my sleeping bag and that's where I spent my first night (and many others). The first night was very interesting - all the neighbors came by to look at me and try to figure out what I was since they probably never saw a human before. All night long - screech, growl, skitter, scratch, chirp, hoot, howl, scream, gurgle. It took a while before I was accepted as one of the vermin.

Anyway, long story short I overcame all those difficulties over the next 3 months, restored my Waucondaminium (the cabin), and built my shop.

This is how my cabin and shop look now (above)

Some of the neighbors dropped in for a house warming party (picture above). I served peanuts and they were a big hit. At one point, I had three of these little guys sitting on my thigh eating peanuts. The one in the picture on the right came into my shop to get his peanut. Unfortunately, they didn't stay to help with any of the work...

This is the view from my front door (picture above). My property runs over the top of that mountain! Naturally, I had to climb to the top and look back. This (pictures below) is what I saw looking left, straight down, and to the right...

There is a creek that runs through my property. It runs year round, sometimes almost a trickle, sometimes raging. In order to get to my cabin and shop I had to build a bridge to cross it. In order to get the cargo containers delivered and allow bulldozers and other heavy equipment access, that bridge had to be strong. Around here most bridges are built with a few trees and boards or maybe a piece of culvert pipe. Not my bridge - 30 foot long, 20" high I-beams sitting on 14,000 pounds of concrete. See my little creek and the (locally) famous bridge that crosses it below..

Apparently, one of my neighbors thought the bridge was nice but a dam would be better. I had never heard that there were any beaver in the immediate area but it looks like there is at least one. This 4" sapling at the edge of my creek was cut down sometime in the last couple of days. Close examination shows many even rows of teeth marks. There is a section about a foot long on the lower trunk where the bark is missing and it isn't on the ground. I think that a beaver was passing through on the high spring time water level in the creek and stopped for a snack.

I'm in a valley as I said earlier, and one side of the valley is directly behind my house and shop. While exploring up there one day, far up the side of the valley where only goats and stubborn old men go, I found this (picture below)...

It's a lean-to made of scavanged sticks and a piece of plywood. The interior is furnished with onion sacks stuffed with leaves, to be used as pillows I suppose. There was a wooden spoon and fork and one small bowl. Try to imagine someone living that way, just try. I couldn't do it. Then I remembered, this is Sasquatch country - do you think if they built a shelter that it might look like this???????? :-D

Pictures of My Home in the Winter

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Ray Rogers Handcrafted Knives