Wednesday, December 3, 2014

Little Cabin On Pearl Creek

We were greeted by a Steller's Jay couple sitting on the limb of a bare aspen tree. There was this tiny log cabin, with a wee front porch just big enough to do a couple of side shuffles or the Two Step one time. The inside looked like Log Cabin syrup, golden amber, rustic and delicious. A four rung ladder led up to a sleeping loft, I peered out, the window presenting a conifer view with an iced over creek. There was no electricity or running water. It was the kind of cabin I like the best. Outside, patches of icy snow shown the reflection of a pale sky, with candy floss streaks of clouds. Taking a deep breath in, a long sigh out, I saw the slow curl of my breath. It was cold. The woodstove was ancient and the fire began to roar.

We stayed up late that night, sitting on the porch, bundled up in goose down and wool, staring at the stars, telling stories, reminiscing of days and times gone by. We laughed out loud and pointed out satellites that dodged twinkling stars, orbiting around this earth.

I always find that when I'm away from home, when I sleep in the woods, my thoughts revert back to the past. To the olden days. Of what it must have been like when the Indians stumbled upon such an area and all the astounding beauty they discovered. Of course, they found sacredness in the spirit of nature. But, were they so amazed? Did they feel happiness when they looked up at that mountain? Did they revel in the silence of the forest, like I do? Did they smile and listen closely to the mockingbird sound? Or are those things appreciated only because we've got something else to compare it to. Like automobile noise, loud stereos that boom, boom, boom, and boisterous people. The blather and gossip that never stops. The world we live in is a busy one and I am extremely thankful that I can take refuge in the trees, to get away from it all.

Our Thanksgiving dinner was prepared at one of the very first settlements in Red Feather Lakes. The homestead was built in 1860, before the West was tamed. I mean, Crazy Horse was still around! There is so much history there, in what is now a resort lodge, and it is still very old timey looking, rustic and well cared for. Along the window frames were painted rose maling designs, flower patterns fading into the old wood. Most likely the artistic work of Nordic or Swedish immigrant homesteaders.

Percheron draft horses pulled wagonloads of families on trails through spruce and pine. Normally, this time of year enough snow has fallen to cover the ground and the horses pull a sleigh through glistening white. Because there was only a dusting of powder, the sled sat empty next to the barn. An australian shepherd led the horses on their tour and when they returned, he sat guarding the steeds with muddy paws a smile on his face. He was the cutest thing and reminded me so much of Gyp, another dog I know. The old barn was full of saddles, blankets and tack, hay bales piled high and a few more trail horses standing at the fence waiting for some attention, a kind word and a soft pat. A gal wrangler with a pitchfork in her hand gave me nod and went back to cleaning a stall. I noticed a slab of grey barn wood with the words 'wranglers accept tips' painted on it. For a brief moment I imagined myself working there mucking out stalls, grooming horses, chewing on a stem of straw while watching the sun come up over those mountains. Then I remembered the times I did all those things. That was then, this is now.

On our way out of the village we stopped to poke our heads inside the Silver Moonbeam. Honey colored aspen leaves in the Fall. That's what the inside of the trailer looks like. And that good old familiar smell. Rustic and delicious.

 

 

 

 

 

25 comments:

  1. What a grand way to spend Thanksgiving! One year I was in Boston area and that was fun too...a whole town re-enactment of when the pilgrims arrived and had mean with the native americans..everyone spoke old english, which was a bit confusing at first....

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    1. I would have loved that! Being in Boston. Part of that scene.
      In a way, it reminds me of an episode of Northern Exposure, when the Indians threw tomatoes at the whites on Thanksgiving Day. Haha!

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  2. Ahhhh. A breath of wild mountain air is greatly appreciated while I lunch at my desk. Thank you for that.
    I'm so glad you could get away and have a beautiful time.
    xx

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    1. Mountain air. It's sooo sweet. And those negative ions.
      I need it, Brandi. I NEED IT!
      Sure is good seeing you here.

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    1. dank u voor uw aanwezigheid hier ! blij dat je genoten van mijn klein stukje van de berg vreugde. ik hoop dat je goed bent.

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  4. I do believe we were both born 100 years too late. :)

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    1. I KNOW!! True statement.
      I wanna be a pioneer so bad. ;)

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  5. Yes, imagining the place long ago and the people traveling through,,, the animals roaming too and how it was then,,, survival? with wonder I'm sure. :) Your TG sure looks heavenly!!

    xo!!

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    1. I wonder, wonder, wonder.
      Probably a lot of hard work. Survival. But, they didn't know anything else.
      All those animals roaming around! There are so many moose around there but I didn't see a one. ;(

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  6. i'd be dancing on that wee little porch.

    xO

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    1. But you WERE!
      Clogging, I think. And you had a washboard in your hand.
      x

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  7. i can only imagine myself there, dancing on the porch in a quite moment while the twilight says hello! have a great day, Lynn :)

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  8. Now THAT is a Thanksgiving that I would relish and enjoy. Wow. I want to love in that cabin :)

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    1. I wanted to live there too. I could ya know. But, I have a job. In another state. And it'd be a long commute! :)

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  9. What a lovely way to spend thanksgiving. Xx

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    1. Yes!! Nothing to clean up! No dishes to wash! :)

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  10. I let out a little squeal to see Gyp mentioned in your blog! I thought of her when I saw that pretty Aussie, too. You are quite the writer yourself, like your hubby. I think being in the wild really brings it out in you. What a memorable holiday you two had. And I want that pretty bay paint, don't you?! A lovely post, my friend.

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    1. Any horse I see I want. Haha.
      Yes, I suppose you're right. The wilderness inspires me. It seems I have to take an adventure to write a good story!
      I wish that wasn't so. I would like, more than anything, to be excited about my life, to enjoy the mundane, to appreciate the down times, to write about the simplicity of just "being" without having to go some place.

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  11. Perfect. Love how the forest fosters good conversation, and good quiet, with your loved one, along with deep reflection. Love the doggy muddy paws, and the steller's jay with his rowdy little mohawk poking up. Perfect.

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    1. It WAS a very reflective Thanksgiving, Clare. It was lovely being in the woods. I love roughing it. I do!
      C and I were both super relaxed, both in the same mind set on where we've been and where we're going. And what we want.
      Those steller's jays made me so happy to see them bouncing around our little compound!!
      Thanks for visiting.

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