Lodges: Unlooked-for Welcomes

“Whether you've come to Hebra Mountain to shield surf the slopes, hunt treasure, or just take a walk . . . you must remember . . . This. Mountain. Will. Kill. You!”                        

— Selmie, Breath of the Wild

"A reminder of winter strengthens the happiness of inhabiting. In the reign of the imagination alone, a reminder of winter increases the house's value as a place to live in."

— Gaston Bachelard, The Poetics of Space [translated by Maria Jolas]

"Isn't it true that a pleasant house makes winter more poetic, and doesn't winter add to the poetry of a house?"

— Baudelaire, Les Paradis Artificiels

Among the crumbling ruins of Hyrulean civilization we find little to cheer us. True, there are settlements in the hinterlands and scattered travelers blazing trails through the wilderness, but where are we to call home in the wilds? Stables foster community along Hyrule’s roads, but what happens when the road fails and only starlight is left to guide us? It is in just such places that hearth and shelter become most important. It is in just such places that we find Hyrule’s lodges.

The first cabin we encounter is that of the Old Man on the Great Plateau. The home of a ghost, this ramshackle building too is a ghost of the cabins we will eventually encounter. Here is where we first come into contact with a building in use by someone — our first earthy reminder of life and civilization. It is here we first see the commonplace items that signify home. For me, this connection — between the first cabin and the eventual lodges — only strengthens my love of a rebuilding Hyrule and all its symbols. From desolation, something arises. From the elements, shelter. This initial cabin is a tentative first step on a journey that will end with the revitalization of all Hyrule. There is something beautiful in that.

Outside and in the Old Man's Cabin

There are few cabins in Hyrule, some close to the beaten path, some far removed. We begin with the derelict cabins, one found on the Great Plateau and the other near the Equestrian Riding Course in East Necluda. Although both of these buildings have seen better days, they still provide some protection from the elements as well as a testament to what has come before. And, from our point of view, they also give us a starting place for our discussion, as these buildings seem to hold the beginnings of the lodges found elsewhere. Though both tumble-down cabins are built somewhat as lean-tos against large boulders, we can still draw several similarities to the more advanced lodges. First, the basic floorplan is rectangular with a simple ridge or gable roof of mild slope. [1] There is a layer of stones at the base, upon which wooden logs are overlaid. It should be noted that these are not true log houses, as most of the logs are not joined by notches at the cabin’s corners. Rather, the logs are bound together with bits of rope, largely without order; canvas and rocks also make up parts of the walls, rendering these truly makeshift structures. But this is not to say that they are without any sophistication. A carved-out window sits in one of the walls, and an awning extends out over the door. There are even decorative elements present: chiefly, there is a pair of interlocking timbers at the end of the roof’s ridgeline — perhaps related to the chigi found in Kakariko Village. The walls of these cabins all angle slightly inward and are further buttressed and braced with external logs, giving us the impression that the builders new something of architectural load. Though rough, these structures aren’t flimsy. Inside, there are familiar cultural elements like bedframes, benches, tables, and chairs. In short, much of what we will come to see is related to these now-deserted cabins.

Built more recently, or at least more soundly, are Hyrule’s lodges: Calip’s Cabin near Fort Hateno and the three found in Hebra: Pondo’s Lodge, the Hebra Trailhead Lodge, and Selmie’s Spot. These latter three are especially heartening, as they are found in one of Hyrule’s most inhospitable corners. Hebra is a dangerous province, largely unmarked and wholly unforgiving. [2] The only potential guideposts in Hebra are the so-called Big Flags common across Hyrule. Selmie writes that the flags, markers of the Kingdom of Hyrule, also denote caches for those in need. [3] Near these flags can occasionally be found lodges, some built for hermits intent on seeking solitude in nature, while others were made as safehouses for wayfarers. [4] Lodges all seem to be built upon a common design, and even their furnishings show remarkable consistency. This common vernacular marks them somewhat as public buildings, and, indeed, this is true to an extent, as Link can find much-needed rest in each lodge he stumbles upon. From the outside, they appear like their tenants: hunkered-down hermits sheltering upon the mountainside. Covered with a thick layer of snow, icicles dangle from the eaves, and smoke filters forth lazily from the chimney. Storage barrels are found under the eaves, and small lean-tos harbor dry wood for fires. Like their cabin cousins, these rectangular, wood-framed houses (for neither are these log cabins) have simple gable roofs with moderate slopes (something which should surprise us, given the propensity for steeper roofs in snowy climes). [5] So too are these buildings erected upon stone, though the lodges use stone as a foundation to remove the structure from the bare earth and not just for a lower layer of wall. While the foundation of Calip’s place is random rubble masonry, the three Hebran lodges are elevated upon coursed rubble masonry, meaning that the irregular chunks of stone are placed in approximately level beds and are brought, at intervals, to level lines. In any case, the stones of these foundations are all held together with some form of mortar, stabilizing them and preventing wind from entering the house from below.

Above: The ramp leading into Calip's Cabin near Fort Hateno
Right: Notice the wider, buttressing bases of these posts

Leading to each lodge is a small staircase of stone (or, in Calip’s case, a brick ramp). From the front, we see that the construction is admirable, all dark wood and small windows. The plain-cased door is set between thick jambs, and a small hood above the doorway rests on small wooden brackets, just as in the earlier cabins. If we wonder why these hoods are so short, we might remember the weight of snow and the power of wind. Above the front door, lit amiably by a hanging lantern, is some type of transom window consisting of two layers: an outer set of wooden shutters and an inner window with eight glass panes. This window serves two likely functions: 1) to aid in ventilation due to the constant need for fire, and 2) to let in light while keeping the cold out when the inner window remains shut. The other, smaller windows in the walls let in decent light while preventing much heat loss. In all, keeping out the elements and keeping in the heat is key to survival in Hebra. And the lodges are well-clad for battle. The chimneys are topped with metal chimney caps (though Calip’s is wood) to keep out rain, sleet, snow, and hail. And while we cannot look inside the walls to analyze them, we can glean a few things from looking inside and out; posts at regular intervals hold these lodges together, and these posts are made larger at the base, acting as informal buttresses. Between the posts are milled planks running horizontally around the structure but for those of the facade and gables, which run vertically. This siding does not appear to be clapboard (slightly-overlapping, angled planks), but a commoner form of covering sometimes called weather-boarding; in parts of New England in the United States, when weather-boarding was used, it was applied in “graduated courses, the lowest course being the widest, and each one above it decreasing slightly in width or ‘weather.’” [6] The Hyrulean equivalent does not seem to follow this model, as all courses are equally wide. It should also be said that we do not know how this siding is affixed to the building; there do not appear to be nails, so I suspect some kind of joinery, each board perhaps matched with tongue-and-groove joints. Indeed, there are no nails to be found in the frame at all.

       Left: Notice the mountain motif on these cupboard doors               Right: A metal fender in place to prevent wood from falling out

Inside, charm is the name of the game, for a lodge humbly focuses on three things: storage, shelter, and snugness. A lodge, in the end, is a place to shut out the world. As Tolkien wrote of a despairing Merry in The Return of the King: “He loved mountains, or he had loved the thought of them marching on the edge of stories brought from far away; but now he was borne down by the insupportable weight of Middle-earth. He longed to shut out the immensity in a quiet room by a fire.” [7] Happily, this is precisely what the lodge allows us to do. The first thing we likely notice when entering is the cheery fire upon the hearth. Ensconcing the flames is a chimney built of smooth, multicolored stones with a brick interior. The chimney, interestingly, is entirely inside the house. Flaring outward at the bottom, the chimney’s form is one with a buttress motive, much like the wooden posts outside. The chimney’s interior bricks are laid out in no particular order, with a rough balance of stretchers and headers (bricks with their long or short ends exposed, respectively). This textural and color difference adds richness and depth to the hearth. It should be noted that the fireplace is not particularly safe, however, as the outer hearth does not extend much into the room, meaning little defense against the errant spark. Prying our eyes from the fire, we see that the inner walls (of the Hebran lodges) seem of white-washed vertical paneling, some showing the wood’s natural grain. The frame is more obvious from inside given the juxtaposition of the unpainted and white-washed wood. Spanning the space, exposed beams with bracing hold up soft-glowing lanterns and add interest for the eye. And what of the furnishings? In Selmie’s Spot, she has hung colorful shields near the ceiling, providing a nice escape from the earth-tone palette of these lodges. Animal furs provide accent and texture. Wine bottles and small trays grace the tables. Baskets of food signify abundance and security. The bed means rest. Shelves are stocked with food, kitchen ceramics, and, most gloriously, books. In all, it is the perfect picture of hygge. And, like le songeur near the fire, all the world without, we can imagine Hylians across the land seeking to discover the civilization that was lost to them — but which they are rebuilding each day at a time.

Notes and Works Cited:

[1] In fact, the gable roof is the most widespread form of vernacular roofing in the world, found everywhere but for parts of the Middle East, Africa, and East Asia.

Vellinga, M., Oliver, P., & Bridge, A. Atlas of Vernacular Architecture of the World. Routledge, 2007, p. 64.

[2] The Hebra Mountains . . . are world famous for shield surfing, but many visitors fall victim to the unceasing blizzards and dangerous mountain paths.”

White, Keaton C. The Legend of Zelda, Breath of the Wild: Creating a Champion. Dark Horse Books, 2018, p. 313.

[3] "I've left a few things behind on the mountain trails and at the base of the flags planted. If you're in trouble, spot a flag and head toward it. Hopefully these items will be of use to you!" — Selmie's Notes, Breath of the Wild

[4] “These small huts contain a bed and a desk, and can serve as a place to rest. They are frequently found in severely cold and snowy climates where there aren’t any nearby villages. Many are inhabited by Hylians who prefer to isolate themselves from the rest of the world, but some are used as rest stops for travelers. They often contain diaries and other things that have been left behind, making it possible to gain some insight into their residents.”

White, Keaton C. The Legend of Zelda, Breath of the Wild: Creating a Champion. Dark Horse Books, 2018, p. 345.

[5] For instance, when we look at the vernacular architecture of parts of northern Japan, we see tall steep roofs built to repel snow and trap heat at the ceiling. See, for instance, this example of a gassho zukuri minka house or this one in Shirakawa-Go. 

Locher, Mira. Japanese Architecture: An Exploration of Elements & Forms. Tuttle, 2010, p. 93.

[6] Kelly, J. Frederick. Early Domestic Architecture of Connecticut. Dover, 1952, pp. 83-84

[7] Tolkien, J. R. R. The Return of the King. Houghton Mifflin Company, 1988, p. 64.