Farewell to Jack English, A True Craftsman Who Built a Good Life in the Wilderness
By: Steven Leckart
Tags: Biography, Wildfires, Cabins, Architecture

For the next three years, the family spent most of their weekends in Pine Valley. Mary planted a garden with grapes, blackberries, raspberries, and various fruit trees. Jack labored on the cabin’s interior. Once, when he stumbled across a felled black oak tree a quarter mile away from the cabin, Jack convinced Phil to help him lug the mill over to the tree. Jack knew the wood would be both beautiful and durable, so he used it for the floorboards. One larger piece became the fireplace mantle. To do away with the chainsaw marks on the wood, Jack resurfaced the wood using a broadaxe and adze. The technique involves first striking the beam with the axe to create a series of parallel crosscuts on the surface. Next, the adze is used to smooth out those cuts. The mantle took Jack two or three hours to finish. He used that same technique on the ceiling beams, which took even longer.

After the four bunks were built and the kitchen was set up and the windows were in place, Jack began the stonework on the chimney, foundation, and fireplace. He would work a little bit at a time. By then he’d gathered stones from riverbeds and trails all over the valley.

The stonework was purely cosmetic. But it helped give the cabin a detailed level of craftsmanship deserving of the area’s natural beauty. Over the years, the five-acre plot had become Jack’s favorite spot in the entire valley. He placed the final stone in 1980.

The exterior boards were never planed, so the patterned cuts from the chain saw blade are still visible.

That same year, Jack and Mary began extending their stays out at the cabin. Sometimes they’d hike in and spend up to a month at a time, just the two of them. Having retired, Jack had no obligation to be elsewhere. He took up crafting bows for violins, cellos, violas, and basses. Out in the woods, time seemed to stand still. Ever since the 1950s, Jack had grown increasingly disenchanted with modern society. With the rise of commercialism, people were turning away from farming and building and making things. He believed that products were getting cheaper in quality.

The wood-burning stove was helicoptered to the cabin for $250.

“I don’t care for progress. I’d rather go back. My wife was the same way,” Jack says, “When I lost her, it’s not been the same since.”

In 2001, Mary died at the age of seventy-eight. Soon after, Jack moved to the cabin and began to live there almost all the time. Their home in Soquel reminded him too much of Mary. He couldn’t stand to be anywhere outside Pine Valley. He’d hike in alone and stay for a month, then head back into town to gather supplies, pay his bills, and visit Dennis and the grandkids. Jack kept Mary’s ashes in a small cardboard box. He carried her with him. “He didn’t want an urn of any kind,” Dennis says , “Because it would just be too heavy to be packing everywhere.”

A portrait of Jack English’s wife Mary, who was nicknamed Scrumptious, sits on a mantel cut from black oak. The mantel’s hand-hewn finish was achieved by scoring the wood with a broadaxe, then smoothing those cuts with an adze.

Around this time, Jack became a local legend among hikers and backpackers. Although there are two fences near the property, Jack always left the gate open. He welcomed all visitors. On one Thanksgiving, a camper caught in a rainstorm took shelter with Jack in his cabin. Jack fed the man and kept him warm. For the next eight years, the man returned to Pine Valley every Thanksgiving to hand-deliver Jack’s dinner.

As the years passed, Jack remained physically strong, but he started to develop arrhythmia. So Dennis began accompanying his father whenever he’d hike in or out of Pine Valley. The last time Jack hiked the trail was in 2012, the days before his ninety-third birthday. He made the hike in three hours and fifteen minutes, which is still faster than most novice backpackers.