Finding my Snow Legs

Well, I’ve been here at the Shack for three days now, and I can’t say that I’m happy that I only have two days left. I have fallen into the way of life here quite nicely. I can’t even say that I mind the 10-degree weather. The daily routine here is something to be envied. I wake up every morning to a perfect winter wonderland. I watch the snow gently fall while sipping coffee, eat a little breakfast, then the daily adventure begins! Off we go on the snowmobiles to get lost in the fairytale that surrounds us…

(A frozen-over Squirrel Lake where ice fishers have made temporary homes.)

My dad and I are snowmobiling buddies, and I let him take the “wheel” so to speak while I take in the scenes around me. Everywhere I look is like a scene from one of my favorite books. I am at the top of a mountain in Forks, camping in the Forrest of Dean, searching for Aslan in Narnia. And, quite frankly, that is exactly what I love about this place. I love that it is like literally getting lost in your favorite story. I love that it allows me to be a part of a great adventure; to take in scenes that I had only ever read about in a book or seen in a movie. I love that it is so completely different from my everyday life that it’s almost like being someone else for a while. And isn’t that what a great vacation is supposed to be? A chance to escape, recharge, rejuvenate. A chance to remember what is so wonderful about this life.

(My cousin, Jaime, and her fiance, Adem, on one of our snowmobiling adventures.)

(My cousin, Amanda, and dogs, Phelps and Bella, when we hiked to an island in the middle of a frozen lake.)