Sugarloaf Stronghold
FEATURE-Jan/Feb 2012
by Rebecca Falzano | Photography Irvin Serrano
Post-Katrina, a New Orleans couple rebuilds in Maine
If a house could have fortitude, Snow Lion Lodge would be brimming with it. The ski home at the base of Sugarloaf stands out through the trees, a sturdy structural arrangement of gargantuan logs and sharply angled rooflines. Even its name is a symbol of strength and protection, referring to the mythical Himalayan snow lion. The house is firmly anchored to its mountain, a taunt to Mother Nature whenever she comes knocking.
Christopher Brady and Kevin White know nature’s knock all too well. When Hurricane Katrina ravaged New Orleans in August 2005, the couple sat helpless while their home was devastated—they were vacationing in Maine, 1,600 miles away. It took them weeks to make their way back. Brady’s mother had lost everything but her life, and the couple’s home was all but completely destroyed. Like so many others, they were grateful to be alive but devastated by the loss of most of their belongings. The things they would come to miss the most would be the irreplaceable family heirlooms that had been passed down for generations, including quilts handmade by Brady’s great-grandmother.
As the couple surveyed their debris-strewn backyard one day, two surviving items captured their attention: lobster buoys they had found on a trip to Maine and a copy of the movie On Golden Pond, which was filmed
in New England and reminded them of the place where they vacationed. “‘This is a sign,’ we thought,” says Brady. A few weeks later, as they were putting their lives back together, White, a physician, came across a job opening in Waterville. “We were in a state of shock, and here was Maine,” says Brady. It was where the two had vacationed together annually for many years. It was where they were when the storm hit. And it was where they would rebuild.
The year following Katrina, the couple moved to Winslow and set up permanent residence. After getting back on their feet, the avid skiers looked to Sugarloaf for a vacation home. “We wanted to find a ski condo, but nothing really floated our boat,” says Brady. Eventually, the two came across a log house unlike any they had ever seen. The post-and-beam structure, which was still under construction but close to being finished, was made of mammoth cedar logs (1,500 to 3,000 pounds each—“steroid-sized,” says Brady). Doug Field and Don Roach of Magalloway Builders in Stratton were building it in collaboration with West Coast Log Homes out of British Columbia. It took just one meeting with the builders and Brady and White were sold, just in time to request some last-minute customizations—the interior paint colors and a basement finish detail—to make the home their own.
“Being from New Orleans, where there is so much historic architecture, we were blown away with the house architecturally. And we were impressed with how cozy it felt despite its size,” says Brady. Field and Roach chose this specific post-and-beam construction, which is reminiscent of a timber frame but with exposed logs on the interior and exterior, to showcase the striking character of the wood. As a result, the house wears its structure on its sleeve: logs jut outward to reveal how the pieces come together, and the notching, blemishes, and grain are all visible as well, both inside and out. “Our goal was to go with all earth-tone colors and materials to blend in with the surroundings, yet display the grandeur and character of the logs,” says Field.
While Field and Roach like to use local wood whenever possible, they selected western red cedar for the frame because of its resistance to insects and decay and its ability to hold up under harsh mountain conditions. “One of the features that impressed me the most is that, with the large diameter of red cedar, there is no center rot—a major problem with eastern cedar,” says Field, who is no stranger to log-home construction. For several winters in the 1990s, he worked as a ski patrolman and backcountry guide in Colorado, where he first gained an appreciation for log structures. “Working with logs is very rewarding,” he says. “It’s humbling.”
As rewarding as the home was to build, Brady and White find it just as rewarding to live in. Not only are the logs a built-in design element, but they connect the couple to their home. “We’re very tactile people,” says Brady. “We like walking through the house and reaching out and touching the logs.”
While the exterior was something the couple entrusted entirely to the builders, Brady faced the interior hands-on, drawing on his brief studies of landscape architecture and interior design. The couple knew they wanted the interior to be reminiscent of a ski lodge, but they also wanted to steer clear of typical lodge conventions. “While we like that rustic Ralph Lauren style, we wanted something more tailored to our personal tastes,” Brady says. The two shied away from Shaker and Mission-style furniture in favor of Asian-inspired pieces. White is Buddhist, and Eastern influences are predominant throughout the home—Buddha sculptures and Oriental porcelain and antiques. In particular, the theme of Himalayan Buddhism of Tibet and Nepal ties in to the surrounding mountain-home theme as well. When it came to color, Brady opted for an earth-toned palette with a pop of red. The fabrics are warm and comforting: wools, cashmere, mohair.
Above all, partly because of what they lost in Katrina, Brady and White longed to be surrounded by things that felt worn and loved. “The goal was to have the house look like it had been there for a long time,” says Brady. The eclectic mix of furnishings and decor, collected from a variety of sources, has a sense of whimsy—another goal of Brady’s. “I like people to walk in and do a double-take. It’s all about making the space fun and comfortable and not too serious.”
The couple now spends nearly every winter weekend at Snow Lion Lodge. The sturdy house has withstood blizzards and even a fallen tree. Inside, reminders of where they came from are never far, including a quilt made for the couple by a neighbor. She spent a year gathering fabric and patterns that held special meaning to Brady and White. The patchwork tells the story of their lives: the fleur-de-lis represents the culture of New Orleans, and the snowflakes and blueberries, their new home in Maine. Having lost his great-grandmother’s precious quilts, Brady was beyond moved by the gift. “This is probably one of the most valuable items in our home because of the heartfelt love and thoughtfulness that went into making it,” he says.
“You hear so many horrible stories from Hurricane Katrina, but there are some wonderful ones as well.”