Rocking the CASBA

Thirty years ago, out on the Carrizo Plain just east of San Luis Obispo in central California, 30 or so natural-building enthusiasts met at a deserted motel to explore the formation of a California natural building group.

Founding CASBA members at Painted Rock in the Carrizo Plain National Monument c. 1996

This initial gathering was a byproduct of the Natural Building Colloquium-Southwest, a touch of serendipity, and a few too many in-flight cocktails shared between three California builders.

It was 1995. Turko Semmes and Greg McMillan, builders from the San Luis Obispo area, had just wrapped up an inspiring week at the colloquium held in the small town of Kingston, New Mexico. They felt like they had found their tribe––people from all corners of the world interested in straw, earth and bamboo building materials, alternative energy technology and natural building systems.

How could they share this with people in California, they wondered.

As the two free spirits tended to do, however, they got caught up in some post-conference exploration of the area and missed their original flight home. But fate intervened, putting them on the same Los Angeles-bound flight as Chris Prelitz, a green builder in the Laguna Beach area.

Turko Semmes at CASBA's 30th anniversary

Fired up about the week they had just experienced, Turko, Greg and Chris began plotting how to develop a similar, but primarily straw-focused community in California. Luckily, the energy persisted even after the buzz of the cocktails and conference high wore off. Upon returning home, they began reaching out to their networks. Word spread up and down the coast, reaching architects, professional builders, engineers, owner-builders and straw-curious individuals––those with a shared ethos for healthier, earth-friendly building.

It was a green light.

Greg secured a location: a friend’s closed-down motel on the Carrizo. A date was set and people were notified via a primitive version of LISTSERV (aka email). And so, in April 1996, with little expectation and an exploratory agenda, an eclectic group of 30 or so individuals from all pockets of California met to see if there was any synergy there. Little did they know, they were starting what would manifest into a statewide movement.

The start of something magical

“What happened there at the gathering…it was magic,” Turko said. “First of all, the Carrizo Plain is a magic place. But it also snowed four inches in April. The snow made it so magic.”

About 120 miles northwest of Los Angeles, the Carrizo, sometimes called “California’s Serengeti”, is the state’s largest remaining native grassland. It’s also home to Painted Rock, a massive, horseshoe-shaped sandstone rock formation with ancient Native American pictographs––vibrant paintings depicting spiritual, cultural and religious beliefs. The well-known San Andreas Fault line also visibly bisects the plain. In fact, there’s a discernible trench and lateral offset caused by tectonic movement.

For a group of nature enthusiasts, the Carrizo was a wonderland.

Beyond the enchantment of the Carrizo, however, nearly everyone at that first convening knew this was the start of something great. They just didn’t know it would last 30+ years. But if they were going to make a go of organizing into something meaningful, they figured they better map it out. So they sat in a circle in the diner of that abandoned motel, and with some markers and a roll of butcher paper, they began to answer:

Where do we want to go?
What do we want to do?
How are we going to get there?
Is there a goal?
Is there a name?

Over the course of that convening, they loosely sketched out a vision (to socialize the use of straw as a building material), goals and a name (the California Straw Building Association––CASBA). But perhaps most importantly, they formed a meaningful bond with one another. That bond would prove imperative to CASBA’s growth and longevity.

“It was immediate,” Turko said. “It was like we lit this match and it just kind of took off.”

Around that same time, the Rice Straw Burning Reduction Act of 1991 went into effect in Sacramento Valley, which meant California rice growers had to find alternative disposal solutions for the straw and stubble residue that remained in the fields after harvest. Traditionally, they could burn it, bury it or bale it. And until that point, burning it was the principal method. It was efficient, effective and cheap. But it was to be phased out incrementally starting in 1992 until it reached a full ban in 2000. 
At the time, few markets existed for rice straw, and use as a building material presented an interesting and timely opportunity. 

Interest in CASBA grew and it continued to take shape rather spontaneously. And Turko and Greg astutely knew the group needed some systems people to help give it structure and organization. They found those systems people in Ann Edminster and Bruce King.

“They were key to organizing it and taking it to somewhat of a structured and professional level,” Turko said. “That gave it the backbone to really grow.”

In the next issue, CASBA evolves into a straw think tank of sorts.

Interesting bits...

The revival of this century-old building technique addresses all of the principles of regenerative architecture––and this intrepid group tapped into that three decades ago.
It’s reported that the first documented bale structure was a schoolhouse in Nebraska in 1897. Made of hay rather than straw and unprotected by stucco or plaster, it was allegedly eaten by cows by 1902.
Some of the early 1900s bale buildings in Nebraska still stand today.

Full video story coming soon, but you can watch the trailer below.

Lesson: One spark of inspiration, one person, one idea can ignite a movement. Don’t keep it in. 

Piper

Issue 01: Rocking the CASBA 🌾

Rocking the CASBA

The start of something magical

Interesting bits...