Building and Naming of the Stargate
We have been making strides toward the construction of the soda kiln on our site. As I eagerly await the delivery of the firebricks, I wanted to post a few pictures of the process so far and tell the origin story of our Stargate.
In the Spring of 2020 we framed out a large rectangle for the concrete kiln pad.
The next step was to construct the shelter for the kiln. We found a company that designed kits for timberframe-style pavilions and ordered one to fit the concrete pad. The kit was delivered to our site, and we were eager to put it together. The company indicated that two people could assemble the kit. We quickly realized that it needed to be two people who had previously assembled one. The struggle to assemble the structure generated the name of what we now call the Stargate. Its origin story is as follows:
The instructions were to connect one header beam to two of the posts that were laying down, and then walk the posts upright. After that side was standing, one simply had to assemble and lift the opposite side, and then connect two more headers across the two archways. Easy peasy.
We worked hard and successfully attached the first header to two posts. Surely we had overcome the hardest part, and we set about lifting the header and pushing the posts upright.
It turns out that two average-sized adults without superhuman strength could not in fact dead-lift at least 1,000 pounds.
Happily, a few hours later three friends stopped by and were willing to help lift the posts. The five of us still were not able to lift the posts upright despite quite a lot of discussion on physics and strategy.
So we called in reinforcements. We sent out a call to several additional friends, inviting them to come to a “barn raising,” with the promise of tacos to reward the group’s efforts. Later that evening, after more discussion of physics and strategy, eight of us managed to set the two posts upright without sliding off of the concrete, toppling over in the opposite direction, or crushing anyone. As we stood back to admire our collective feat of strength, it dawned on all of us at the same time: This. Thing. Was. Massive. Someone (whose name has been lost to history) exclaimed “it’s a Stargate!” The arch that towered above us was large enough for a spaceship from another dimension to fly through. The header was now more than 15 feet off the ground, and the roof was going to be above that level.
The company that put together and sent the kit had not cut the posts to the length we had specified. Among many lessons we learned along this adventure, chief among them may be this: measure before lifting. All I could do was laugh, and declare that it was time for tacos. We were going to have to spend some time figuring out what to do next.
Upon reflection, a few things were clear. 1) The Stargate was too tall. At that height, it would barely shelter humans and the kiln from rain. 2) We were not going to be able to safely cut down the size whether the posts were upright or if we figured out a way to lay them down safely. 3) We needed professionals to do this job.
After some wrangling and negotiation, we were able to have the company send an installation crew.
It turns out that two people can do the assembly, and it helps a lot if they have experience and the right tools for the job. These fellas cut two and a half feet off the bottom of the posts and put it all together in a single day. I found it best to stay out of their way.
We made the extra lengths of post into end tables and a bench. And in the weeks afterward, we installed a metal roof and wired electricity.
Epilogue
After having heard the story and visited the Stargate, some dear friends found a plaque and sent it to us. And with its attachment to one of the posts, the Stargate’s construction was complete. I am looking forward to seeing what other-worldly effects it imparts to the pots that come out of the kiln it shelters.
