Return To The Cabin In The Woods

Because of the huge amount of snowfall this winter, we haven't been able to go to the cabin yet, and my brother thought it might not be till the end of June.  But he was going to drive up in his truck last week and see how far he'd get, and then walk the rest of the way, to check on the condition of the cabin (because of the record snowfall, there was a worry that the roof or the deck might collapse, or at least there'd be damage to the cabin).  But on Sunday, he told me that not only had he driven up with barely any difficulty (except for a couple of downed trees in the road, which he cut and moved out of the way), even my little car would make it just fine.

My cousin has a family reunion this week, which meant we wouldn't be getting together (to watch anything or have lunch on Wednesday), so I decided to go up around noon on Tuesday.  Of course, I couldn't get everything done quite on time, but I still made it there around four o'clock.

There was one cabin I saw that the snow had done a number on (my brother said he saw one where a window had been broken in, presumably by a fallen tree rather than the snow), and its deck was pretty much a representation of my opinion of Pauly Shore.

So, for my first trip up to the cabin, it's surprisingly cold for June (there's still snow on the ground in places where the sun rarely shines).  I couldn't remember how much stuff I left there last year (I had meant to clear everything out when I came back from Europe in early November, but my brother had already closed up the cabin for the winter before I came home), so I bought a bunch of food, as well as blankets, clothes, and supplies.

I needn't have bothered, because there was more stuff there from last year than I would ever have guessed, and there was little in the way of spoilage (there were mouse droppings on the floor and on my box of food, but no evidence any had gotten into my food . . . I think the mice might have just now gotten into the cabin, since the thaw), and I had way more than I thought I would. 

Also, the only damage to our place was the back deck had sunk a foot into the ground (from the weight of all the snow), and the benches around the fire pit had also been driven into the ground, and one had snapped neatly in two.

Even though I love going to the cabin, the cold (luckily, I still had dry wood, kindling, and paper to make fires left over from last year), the fact that the lights wouldn't turn on in the living room, on the stairs, or the outside deck, and the unfortunate timing of the gas stopping working as I was making some rice, made it a little less enjoyable than usual (the next day, when it was light, I started the barbecue grill up outside and used it to cook and to warm up some water so I could wash myself . . . but it was still not the same as what I'd grown used to over the past three years).

As usual, I went to the dam to do my run and watch the sun go down (I started the tradition in 2020, and hey, the photos still come out great, despite my lack of that year's romanticism), and saw that the lake is the highest it's ever been, only two feet or so from the top of the dam.  The water was dirty and ice cold, otherwise, it would've been fun as a teenager to jump into the lake from the dam (it occurs to me that the lake is about fifteen feet higher than it was my first trip last year, which would've been in May rather than June).  

I only saw one or two deer in my travels, but there happened to be an entire get-together happening at the cabin above ours on the hill, so people were noisy and active, and sleeping in tents right there where the property line ends.

It started to rain that night, and rained on and off for the next eighteen or so hours.  At one point, it started to "movie rain" (a term I've given to when it's absolutely pissing down, unlike the last ten rainstorms you saw*), and I wondered if the dirt roads I drive in and out on might not become mud roads.  I didn't like not having hot water and food I didn't make in the barbecuer, so I packed my stuff and headed home.  It was already dark, even though it was hours before sundown, due to the stormclouds, but once I got down the mountain and out of the canyon, the sun came back again.

But ah well, there's always next week.

*Big and I were extras in a movie a lifetime ago, and there was a rain scene where they set up this giant sprinkler-type machine to dump hundreds of gallons of water onto the set (and those unfortunate enough to be under it), because you have to have that much downpour (or backlight it correctly) for any rain to show up on camera.