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The cabin has always been called just that, “the cabin.” It was as though there was only one in the entire world. To my family there was. These are the stories about the cabin. MORE
I don’t remember ever being bored at the cabin. If we weren’t running around outside with our cousins, swimming at the river, or playing games with whoever was up for Yahtzee or gin rummy, there was plenty to do by ourselves. We could lose ourselves in game after game of solitaire, hike up or down the creek or embroider.
Read MoreFrom our vantage point on the porch we can watch the sun crest over the canyon or the fog melt away in the mornings and the sky fill with stars at twilight. It is a front row seat view of morning arriving and the day leaving.
Read MoreNo Peekie. Gunga Din. Black Mariah High, Aces Low. Black Mariah Low, Aces High. These were the words that filled our Saturday night at the cabin last week. These were the words of a poker game, a game I identify more with the cabin and my grandparents than I do with Vegas.
Read MoreBay trees dominate the landscape around the cabin. The shiny green leaves frame our kitchen window, line the driveway and grow over the paths. The trees punctuate the air with a heady, earthy scent—to me the aroma of bay is the cabin.
Read MoreJust as there is only one road that leads to the cabin, there is only one highway that leads to it. Now a state route, it was once the main thoroughfare, providing a public route from California to Oregon. Because of the highway’s prominence, two bridges were built in the early 1930s to provide passage over the deep ravines where creeks snake through the land.
Read More“Stop at the burnt-down house, stop at the burnt-down house” us kids would chant whenever we loaded into the back of my grandfather’s truck to go to the store or river. The burnt-down house. That’s the landmark I have the strongest memory of as a kid. Now, nearly every stretch of road has a nickname or some notable characteristic that we use as reference.
Read MoreWhen we aren’t at the cabin, I spend an inordinate amount of time thinking about it and what changes I’d make if I had the time and money. I find inspiration online and in magazines and keep a punch list of big and small cabin projects.
Read MoreTwo miles long, the cabin road has changed little in the six decades since the property was purchased. It remains an unpaved dirt road. In warm, dry weather it’s so dusty a cloud follows behind your car, leaving it covered with a thin layer of brown powder when you stop. In winter, the road becomes muddy and forms large potholes where the water pools.
Read MoreA true vacation should be an escape from your everyday life. Despite how much we work when we go to the cabin, it’s still a vacation, made so by being off the grid, not having our regular chores to do and timing things by daylight rather than a clock.
Read MoreI started “driving” on the cabin road years before. Like all the kids in our family I took turns sitting on my grandfather’s lap and holding onto the wheel. It's a tradition that has been carried on through each generation and most recently with Josh as a little guy sitting on Jack’s lap to "drive."
Read MoreWhen my father died it was shocking. A model of good, clean living (despite the cigarette in the photo above), he was active, fit, and 56 years old. 56. So young. So young. I heard it over and over. Other people said it. I thought it repeatedly in my head. So young.
Read MoreIt might be 2016, but at the cabin it could be 1956. With the exception of a few solar panels that my Uncle Steve has installed on his place, the cabin remains as rustic as it was when it was purchased in the late 50s. There is no electricity, no telephone, no central air or heating. Some days if you have the right mobile phone and are standing at just the right spot you might get a bar or two, but other than those solar panels or that intermittent cell service a trip to the cabin means going off the grid completely.
Read MoreSnow was predicted at the cabin last week. A white Christmas. I considered ditching our holiday plans to go up for the day. It would have been a first time for me to spend Christmas there and a first for me to be there when it snowed.
Read MoreMy father rarely sat still at the cabin. He was always working on something that needed to be fixed or making an improvement. Once when we were all up there together, my father installed the small broom closet in the kitchen while my sister and I sat on the sofa.
Read MoreA few years ago we started baking something to have in the morning with our coffee. Sometimes it’s sweet like a brownie. Other times it’s a breakfast treat. One of my favorites is something I call Cabin Cake. The base is a buttermilk cake from “Food & Wine” that we loved so much I began adding different ingredients to disguise the fact that I was making the same cake.
Read MoreSometime in my twenties we spent Thanksgiving at the cabin for the first time. That year, we cooked a turkey on the grill as the one nod to our previous holiday traditions. Each year that followed up there, the meal improved and expanded. By our last year at the cabin as a family, in 1995, we prepared an entire Thanksgiving feast, although the stuffing was from a box.
Read MoreWhen I look at books or blogs about home décor I fantasize about what the cabin could look like with a new this or a painted that.
Read MoreRight now it's freezing at the cabin. But it's the best time to be there. The best time to sit in front of the fire in the morning and night and then steal a little bit of sunshine on the porch in the afternoon.
Read MoreYou might know that I've been working on a novel for the last 18 months. It's set at the cabin, which I've mainly fictionalized in the book. There are a few exceptions, including a scene that includes a shotgun I found in a closet once and never saw again.
Read MoreGiven the remote location of the town where our cabin is located, our neighbors typically perform more than one role in the community. Refrigerator Dan has a daytime job and he works on propane-fueled refrigerators.
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