Chapter 15. Hello and Goodbye… Again…

RECHARGING THE BATTERIES

Returning from one of the world’s most densely populated areas, back to a secluded cabin in the woods, only to move across the country in less than two weeks was no small outfit. I had been clumsily speaking a different language almost entirely for four of those six weeks and marched at a nonstop pace, with action-packed tours, crowds, and adventures. I had been jumping between planes, subways, taxis, boats, trains, Beetles, and buses at a furious velocity. Even horses. This tailed a train ride for three straight days with minimal sleep that entire ride because of the incompatibility of coach sleeping conditions. Exhaustion felt overwhelming and had no intentions of fully sifting back into the “Cabin-State-Of-Mind” as if it were home again. To do so would be too emotional.

There emerged no job leads. No callbacks to an unavailable number or offer letters. With that full departure back east looming, I resembled more of a tourist longing to reminisce, more so than a resident returning from vacation. My remaining days served to decompress, fill my cup with the finishing touches of peace, polish off some attainable remaining goals, and say some final sentimental goodbyes to the area that I wholly bonded with.

Andy, on the other hand, chomped at the bit to blaze beyond our local confines of the Whitefish area and seek some last sight-seeing adventures. He had been alone in a cabin for six weeks, talking to ground squirrels, presumed beautiful horseback-riding women, and “Stuffed Easter, Senior-Picture Brad.” The weather over forty-two days evolved to idyllic adventure conditions for exploration. My energy stores remained depleted despite so much of my own agenda remaining before the finale, but I owed him deeply for staying until May. That much grew profoundly obvious.

WRAPPING UP THE SIMPLE LIFE

Those last few days in the cabin were about savoring. That was paramount. To recharge for a demoralizing trip meant relishing the little things that made the whole experience so special. Identifying what captured the enjoyment of being there. Around the cabin became all about that morning coffee overlooking the valley, sitting on the porch, the use of the wood-burning stove on a small scale since the weather warmed, decent meals, and some blazing fires outside.

Goodbyes were made to my primitive camp. That outfit served me well, though the basic design never would blossom into the elaborate forward base I had once envisioned. Perhaps because of the location and the probability of relocation. I had missed that window in the fall with winter prep going towards other focal points. Perhaps with an arrival one-month sooner, such a major undertaking would have been probable. During fall through spring, I would sleep in it several times a month. Though uncomfortable, the burden of keeping myself warm and dry was mostly achieved. On some of the coldest nights, I took rocks from the fire pit and buried them six inches within the ground under where my bedding insulation rested. That made a profound difference. For half the night, that is. The other half turned quite frigid. The logs, branches, and brush were responsibly dispersed with a meticulous touch up to leave no traces. It’s not my fault I don’t sleep in survival shelters no more.

I surveyed my sole hunting experience. A bit of a shame because stocking the freezer (a tiny freezer) full of game would have made living in the woods seem more official. Perhaps making some sort of outdoor cache would have helped store larger game. Instead of eating Hamburger Helper, it would have been venison helper. The only firearm we had at our disposal remained a shotgun. After checking the local gun store to see about rifles, I decided not to get anything on a limited budget. At the very least, we should have bought some wild game off of some hunters. Surely there were plenty of options.

I marveled at the underside of the porch; an overflowing showcase full of wooden trophies. We overestimated in autumn and under-consumed throughout the winter and spring. Nevertheless, the remaining stack was undeniably a feat to be proud of. Such work to retrieve and process the timber rivaled any outputs from months at a fully used paid gym outfit. There was more to show for all the sets, reps, jerks, lunges, squats, gains, inclines, declines, rows, curls, spots, and deadlifts. More to show than just a beach body. I had a well-heated firewood body.

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