Makings of Outdoorsmen - A Cabin

The past couple weeks I’ve spent at my parent’s home in Seattle, where I’m always reminded of the many things I must be grateful for. After all, it is where I have my roots, my family, and where my parents formed me into who I am today. Part of that of course is my love for the outdoors.

My mother, although she formed me in countless praiseworthy ways, was not the one who instilled this desire in me. That credit almost completely belongs to my dad. Although his time spent outdoors recently is not as ample as it used to be, he had in his youth been quite the outdoorsman. Growing up, his parents had moved him and his sister to their cabin in the Cascade mountains. Handbuilt completely by my grandfather, aunts and uncles, the A-frame was constructed with timber they harvested from the property. It was not really intended to be something to live in, but when time came to sell the house closer to the city, my grandpa stayed in town while my grandma took my dad and his sister to the Cascades for a whole year. Being the last lot down the road, my dad had the entire National Forest as his backyard.

The only problem? The place doesn’t have running water, electricity, or a bathroom. My dad wasn’t super happy - my grandparents told him about the move on his 15th birthday, and it involved uprooting a lot of his friends and life in Monroe where they lived (Happy Birthday son!) Nonetheless the move happened, and he stayed there with my aunt and grandma, with his dad driving up from town on the weekends, often with his older siblings in-tow.

The cabin is still used to this day. For some, its a self-imposed trip of torture, without wifi, proper heating, the occasional mouse, and the ever-present need for yet another trip to get water from the creek (“Who’s turn is it?? I went last time!”) For others, it is a sanctuary. A place for peace, quiet, and a chance to get back to our roots as creatures of the outdoors. An email thread over Christmas updates the whole family on what days the cabin is being used, so that it doesn’t get too crowded, its a hot commodity over winter break. Our turn came, for my dad, two younger brothers and I, to go. We enjoyed ourselves tremendously. Perhaps the best way to describe what we did is just through some moments that stood out to me, hiking and trudging through several feet of powder, drawn-out snow-wrestling matches, sledding, archery, handgun shooting, fire-building, late-night conversations lit by propane lamps, drying off our perpetually soaked gloves by the woodstove, sipping whiskey-slushies. Can’t forget the constant need for firewood from the stack, splitting kindling, and getting water from the natural spring.

All in all it’s a world completely different from most modern Americans’. There’s no Netflix, no endless stream of media, there are fewer distractions, but a chance for adventure. Enduring the elements and becoming tougher. It’s a place that many in our family hold dear to our hearts, and I hope to continue using it and sharing it with whoever I can.