After a 'few' drinks we set off in the fading light with glasses in hand and a guide to follow on what soon seemed like a veritable pilgrimage to visit Sasa and Leslie's little building in the woods. Until then I only knew of it as a vague possibility, something that  would emerge from the end of a fat nozzle oozing concrete, mounted on an oversized 3D linear motion device, and a chain saw wielding robotic arm that would slice logs into irregularly shaped planks. Good luck to them, I thought!

The Hut finally appeared in a clearing at the end of a shrub infested path, a truly unexpected sight, the worthy end to our little trip, which I recognized as a miniature version of the project's epic eight mile journey repeated day after day, week after week, month after month from the shop where it was made and its much longer trek from conception to construction.   

Elevated on nine inverted pyramids that could have been built by children on the beach who had discovered the proper formula of water and sand to pour in layers without the usual dumb cake form molds, and clad in wide uneven vertical siding, was a beautifully quirky, stylistically unclassifiable little shelter. For the few who would later happen upon it after trespassing on private property and finding its door locked, it would more likely be mistaken for a little shelter made safe from a huffing and puffing wolf than a hidden shrine dedicated to the incalculable intertwined computational, mechanical and human labor required for its construction.

— John Zissovici [Cabin Visitor and Associate Professor at Cornell AAP]