
Inside an Ecohome on Stilts in Nova Scotia
The house toilet doesn’t flush—it incinerates. That was the compromise Robyn Traynor, a public health consultant, and Greg Knapp, a general surgeon, made to protect the delicate coastal ecosystem where they built their low-impact cabin. Perched on stilts above the treeline of the Nova Scotia Barrens, their home is a product of careful eco-engineering—an idea that grew from a decade of familiarity with the land.

The married couple moved from Ontario to Nova Scotia in 2012, when Knapp began his general surgery training at Dalhousie University. On their time off, they camped in the coastal wilderness near Terence Bay and fell in love with its rugged landscape. When a parcel of land in the area went up for sale some 10 years later, the pair—who by that point had one son and another on the way—immediately put in an offer. Building a weekend getaway there seemed like the perfect way to share the wilderness they loved with their kids. “We have all these photos of our children growing up as the cabin was being built,” says Traynor. “Our youngest sat in the hole they excavated to make room for the build. He could barely sit up then, so we propped him up against a rock.”

The land is located in the Barrens, an ecologically protected zone defined by dramatic granite headlands, coastal conifer forest, bogs and exposed bedrock. “The land has a super thin layer of topsoil. Once you disturb it, it’s hard for anything to grow,” says Knapp. The house, meanwhile, is the work of architect Peter Braithwaite, owner of Peter Braithwaite Studio, who happens to own the property next door. “He already had a good sense of the challenges of the terrain as well as how fragile the ecosystem is,” says Knapp.

The house consists of two cube-like structures, which measure no more than 200 square feet each, roughly the size of a garden shed. The compact size makes heating easy and keeps the build within local codes. Balancing these structures on stilts lowers their impact further, since no foundation needed to be dug or concrete poured. The added bonus? These cubes sit above the treeline and look out to the ocean.

At the top of a two-tiered wooden staircase is a large deck that splits the home in two. On the left is a cube containing the living room, kitchenette and a guest loft upstairs. The sleeping quarters are on the right.

The home has a host of other low-impact features. A septic tank was out of the question: installing one would’ve required clearing a large amount of land, a no-no in this ecozone. So, Knapp did some research and landed on Scandinavian incinerating toilets, which sequester waste and burn it efficiently at the press of a button. “We clear out a small pile of ash once a year,” says Traynor.
Meanwhile, the building’s slanted roofs direct rainwater into eaves that run inside the building’s walls, and then into a pair of large water cisterns. From there, a UV filter turns the collected water into a potable supply—for cooking, showering and brushing teeth, as well as filling the cabin’s wood-fired hot tub. Large windows passively pull in solar heat on chilly days and, when cracked open, create a refreshing cross-breeze. The exteriors of both structures are “outsulated,” which means the insulation is on the outside of the framing, allowing the local, rough-hewn hemlock walls to shine.

The family, who live in Halifax, escape to the home on weekends and for longer stays in the summer. Traynor’s favourite part of the whole process has been watching their kids grow alongside the house. “Our youngest learned to pull himself up on the stairs just after the steps were built, so his milestones match the milestones of the buildings,” she says. The wild landscape also provides hours of play for both sons.

Knapp says the home has brought the family closer. The sleeping pavilion contains a small loft where he and Traynor share a queen bed and the kids a nearby bunk. “Sleeping in the same room with our seven- and four-year-old sons brings about this special quality time. And I don’t think that’s something we’ll get to do for too long,” he says. “It wouldn’t be possible if we had built a larger place.”