Last August, I came off a three-day backpacking trip realizing that my trekking days are over. Oh sure, I can still do short trips but going out for a week or more just isn’t a smart thing for me to do. Carrying 7 days of food or more, hmm… that’s a heavy pack, and my joints are worn out from decades of trail pounding. Besides, I don’t have the stamina I had when I was 50 or even 60. Maybe it’s time to start doing things a little differently.
As long as I can remember, I have dreamt of having a cabin in the woods. But the urge has never been strong enough for me to buy a piece of land, build a cabin on it, and live there. Not really. Then there are the practical considerations. As a writer I could live off the grid, sure, but not as a publisher or bookseller. Even if I had such a place for the occasional weekend getaway, I wouldn’t want the headache of owning and maintaining it. I like to keep things simple.
How about renting a primitive cabin and day hiking from there? I googled Adirondack cabins but couldn’t find anything that wasn’t a drive-up place with full amenities. That’s just not my idea of a backwoods experience. Then my wife Judy found something that might work. This guy Joe has several cabins a short hike into the woods. The smallest, most remote, and most primitive one of them all looked very appealing to me when I met with Joe last month to check out his offerings.
Last weekend I stayed there 2 nights. The cabin is smaller than Thoreau’s cabin was, with no amenities other than a little wood-burning stove. No indoor plumbing and no electricity. Forget about internet connection. It’s over a mile from the nearest road, with the last leg being only the semblance of a trail. Nearest dependable water barely within earshot. Perfect!
The place exceeded my expectations. A deep woods feeling with the luxury of a cozy cabin. Backed up against a wild forest, with plenty of wide-open Adirondack country to explore. And most importantly, solitude. I plan on spending a week there next spring for my 70th birthday. Now that’s something to dream about all winter long.
Judy misses camping on a mountain stream now that her backpacking days are behind her. So last week we did the next best thing. We secured a cabin only steps away from the Otter Creek, a few miles outside the western boundary of the Adirondack Park. It turned out to be quite the place: a nearly new cabin with all the amenities. Quite comfortable. A lot better than camping, that’s for sure.
Judy left the cabin only to walk down to the creek and groove on it. A pair of Adirondack chairs just outside the cabin was the best place to be, with a full view of the stream. She spent considerable time there. I, on the other hand, explored the area – restless soul that I am. On the second full day of our stay, I walked the nearby Independence River with a fly rod in hand. For several hours I saw no one or any kind of development. Caught and released a couple trout in the process.
The fishing was pretty good for this time of year, but I opted for a one-day license since I was more in the mood to hike. I scouted a couple trailheads in the Independence River Wild Forest. Oddly enough, I ended up hiking at Whetstone Gulf State Park instead. I figured that way Judy wouldn’t worry about me. “State park” sounds safe, doesn’t it?
Whetstone Gulf turned out to be a bona fide canyon. A big sign at the trailhead says you must be 18 or be with someone who is in order to hike it. I hiked the North Rim Trail out, and the South Rim Trail back, completely circumnavigating the gulf. Five and a half miles altogether. Most of the time I was no more than a couple feet from the edge of the precipice. Some fantastic views along the way. A lot more than expected.
Our last evening at the cabin, we enjoyed a campfire in the fire pit down by the creek. With temps cooling off fast, thanks to a wide-open sky overhead, we sat close to the fire. Once again in comfy Adirondack chairs. The amber stream rushed past as the campfire crackled. It was a good finish to a very pleasant getaway. We’re already talking about doing it again next year.
Once again my wife Judy and I took our grandkids to the Nicholson cabin in Stowe. We all had such a good time there last year that it only made sense to go back for seconds.
Once again we had the two-acre pond at its base all to ourselves. That’s the main attraction. The kids swam in the pond daily during a run of 90-degree heat, kayaked on it, and hiked its perimeter so many times that we lost count.
For three days and nights, the cabin was our home base. From there we ventured not-so-far-afield to Cotton Brook where we hiked then went for a dunk in a clear, cold pool. We also did the tour at the nearby Ben & Jerry’s factory then ran into Stowe for some good food and a little entertainment. But the cabin itself, both primitive and charming, was what the kids really enjoyed. Judy and I were somewhat surprised by their sustained enthusiasm for it.
When I was younger I dreamt of having a cabin in the woods – a simple little place where I could live close to nature. In my advanced years now, I must admit that I like having electricity, indoor plumbing, and easy access to the amenities that a small town provides. When I feel the tug of wildness, I like to venture into deep woods where there are no amenities at all, not even a roof and four walls. But it’s a pleasure to live simply for a few days in a humble abode surrounded by trees.
When we returned home, all our grandkids were glad to have access to their electronic devices again. That said, I’m sure they won’t forget that cabin in the woods or the fun they had there anytime soon. The Thoreauvian ideal of living simply might be a bit much for most people, but there’s something to be said for the occasional exposure to Walden all the same. Living close to nature, if only for a few days a year, reminds us what we are and how little we really need.
Backcountry traveler, freelance writer, and philosopher of wildness, McLaughlin has ventured into the wilds of Southeast Alaska and New York’s Adirondacks as well as the forests of northern New England. More about Walt.
