It’s funny, isn’t it, how when we set up camp we create a sense not just of home but of a point around which the world revolves? You go into the mountains, find a spot, pitch your tent, and instantly the peaks and cols and trails are placed within the context of that little flag you just stuck in the ground. Certainly, we need frames of reference, and sometimes there might be territorial instincts rising to the fore, but it seems more likely that much of the emotional output to building in nature has to do with apprehending the big old world in human terms. A comfort, sure, but perhaps a yardstick, too.

In 1971, a volcano in Chile called Villarica erupted, and lava flowing down the Trancura River drainage destroyed agricultural fields and old growth forest and impacted the towns of Pichaye, El Turbio, and others. Fifteen people died. Farming opportunities shrank, and young people moved to the cities. In 2005, a man named Miguel Vázquez living in the tiny settlement of Pinohaucho convinced his father that the traditional woodcutting life was dying, and they built zip lines, reconditioned old trails for horseback riding, and began to attract tourists to the area. The 11 families living in Pinohaucho pitched in, and soon they had a small business.

In 2006, they decided to build an observation deck, which was designed by the School of Architecture at the University of Talco. It was constructed of reclaimed wood, with timbers that weighed 880 pounds each and were hauled and shaped by beast and hand. Their goal was to build something that reflected the region and its sensibilities, to be sustainable, low impact, and thoughtful.

It is remarkable that a structure so simple could be so poignant. In its straight lines and right angles, it is so clearly human, with human aspirations, and yet the openness and raw wood speaks to a comfort with the elements, an embrace of the elements, that is unusual. Why do people build observation decks? Is it so we don’t have to stand on the actual ground? Maybe. What’s lovely about the deck in Pinohaucho is that it isn’t about giving you a place to stand, it’s about giving you a place to see.

Tagged as: south america, weekend cabin