Houses are often known for the myriad logs it takes to build, typically manifested in the form of studs and joists. But every so often, you stumble upon something a tad different, a smidge more unique—a house that boasts just a single log to get the job done. So, if that's your jam, Garberville has got your back with a classic roadside attraction nestled amongst the towering redwood forest giants.
As you can imagine, the one-log house is one of those goofy things you see plastered across promotional signs all over the highways and back roads as you tour through the lovely Humboldt County region. They're practically flaunting it on every corner, like a proud parent showcasing their child's latest finger painting. And rightfully so! Just take a gander at this beauty in all its wooden glory.
But what in the world is the one-log house, you wonder? Well, it's precisely what it sounds like: one colossal Redwood tree log, hollowed out and transformed into what can only be described as the living room of a house, presumably by some demented backwoods Martha Stewart type. Got the mental image? Excellent. Now, tell me you're not intrigued.
Step inside, and you're met with cozy quarters that, sadly, put most $4,000-a-month apartments in NYC or LA to shame. It's snug, it's quirky, and it's undeniably a testament to human ingenuity—or perhaps just a really ambitious lumberjack with a dream and a chainsaw.
Here, using only one log, you've got all the standards you’d expect in a house that would feature many logs: a kitchen (complete with an array of spices, most likely expired), a cozy breakfast nook, reading tables, benches, books, and curtained windows. Oh, and let's not forget the dual beds—perfect for hosting a slumber party with a friend or significant other. Who said the one-log house wasn’t the romantic getaway we’ve all been dreaming of?
And hey, at $1 a pop—yes, they charge you to enter, but hey, that's the price of such an experience—it's more than worth taking five minutes out of your day to check it out.
In conclusion, you've also gotta wonder how the surrounding trees feel about the one-log house. Is it painful for them to see their fallen brethren all decked out like a rustic cabin and hawked to the public? Are they secretly jealous that it earns $1 a head every time someone steps inside? Is this a form of tree prostitution? Okay, maybe I'm getting ahead of myself. But hey, in the wild world of Humboldt County, stranger things have probably happened.
