Silence Never Sounded So Good

The Subaru’s stuffed to the roof, we pile in, and head for the hills. It’s dark again, like last time we went to the camp, except this night the moon is a day shy from full and brighter than The Bat Signal.

Sounds of breaking chains chime in my head as the imprisoning worries of school lose their reach and wisp away like trailing dust in the rear view mirror. We work our way through multiple towns; the houses become increasingly smaller and the number of broken down vehicles more than triples. Even the squirrels were singing, “And with a rebel yell…”

We finally reach the cabin, this little piece of heaven watched over by a thousand stars and a direct tap into the childhood camping memories I had almost forgotten. The sauna was relaxing, to no surprise, but apparently our energy had not been fully exerted as later that night (or morning, I should say) we found ourselves gathering inner tubes, inflatable chairs, and a kayak, and plotting the slipperiest route down the snow coated driveway to the frozen lake below.

Casualties:
1- black inner tube
1- inflatable chair
1- ice scraped hand
1- rear hatch of the Subaru (won’t open at the moment)
1- heart attack after trippping someone’s car alarm that howled like a freight train
Countless- body-trampled bushes

I think we managed to unfold the sleeping bags and go to sleep at around 2 or 3am. A couple of us even woke at 5:30 just to hike the short mountain and watch the sunrise, but for us others (the smarter ones, I’ll say, hehe), a window view from a warm bed with pancakes on the mind was just as satisfying.

Thanks to the fellas who came along and to the little lady who put up with us fellas.