The Cabin

Ma and I headed to the cabin this weekend. Silent. Still. Very cold until the fire gets going. You can feel the stress ooze out of you into the ground. It's always a place of healing for us.

I majored in riding my mtn bike on the gnarly trails and only getting bucked off twice. As I was riding back home down the highway I thought I'd detour across a fence, into a field and onto the Klondike Trail. I've wanted to see and be on that trail for a couple of years now and since I was on a ride I was master of the universe and could do what I wanted.

I rode it for 5km until it hit the river, all the while feeling the men and packhorses that used it to trek to the Klondike. Hudson's Bay packhorses started using it 151 years ago and it's rutted about a foot deep in places. You'd think it would be straight but it twists and turns around the trees and winds up and down the hills. It was a special time of history for me and I kept marvelling that I was actually on the very same trail thousands of men used to chase the promise of gold.

Then I went back to the cabin and chopped a few trees down for a rail fence we're going to build. Then I split some wood. Then I went in the cabin and fell asleep for a while. After that I roasted some hot dogs over the fire.

Thank you God for our cabin.