Post Elkhorn Hotsprings

In hindsight, luxuriating at Elkhorn was well-deserved preparation for the harrowing drive to come. Thankfully at the time we were blissfully ignorant, basking in the afterglow of our morning hot spring soak eager to spend a couple days in our forestry cabin in Beaverhead/Deerlodge National Forest. We drove snacking on homemade empanadas paired with Coke and greasy chips. I read aloud The Last Season by Eric Blehm, an appropriately themed account of a well-seasoned National Parks ranger who goes missing in the back-country of Sequoia and Kings Canyon National Park.

An hour later we found ourselves lost in a whorl of blinding snow crawling behind a snowplow's blinking tail lights to the tune of uselessly scraping wiper blades. Slowly we inched over the last mountain pass and descended into decent visibility where we began looking for signs for the Douglas Creek turnoff and the road that would takes us eight miles in to our cabin. The road was covered with a fresh layer of powder as we traced faint tracks made by a recent vehicle. We made it 6.6 miles before the truck got stuck. Not entirely ill-prepared we brought cross-country skis and a sturdy plastic sled to haul in our essentials including food, drinking water, and wine, then strapped into our skis and packs and headed out into knee-deep snow. I broke the trail and Ed followed towing the sled. It was hardly skiing. I plodded awkwardly, punching through the snow with what felt more like flippers than skis cursing our decision to rent skis rather than snow shoes. This went on for what seemed like hours curse. plod. curse. plod... then this:


It was getting late, nearing 7 o'clock when we arrived and the sun was fading fast so we lit the wood burning stove and had campfire meal of sausages and wine. The next morning we awoke to this:


By the light of day we were actually able to see the interior our modest cabin:


Here's the kitchen:


No running water mean melting snow, lots of snow:


View from the front porch:

With blue skies overhead we took a wondrously perfect ski down the trail we paved the previous day sans loaded backpacks — absolute bliss. The remaining days went quickly; filled with cozy reading, scooping and melting snow (who knew it would be so therapeutic?) lazy napping and my personal favorite; eating.
Happy Birthday Edo!