This place is extravagant (as far as backcountry camping goes). Wood stove, chopped firewood, tables, drying racks, lanterns, fuel, outhouse, level floors... So normally, a place like this is too easy. Part of the joy of getting out is living without unnecessary accoutrements. But when you've spent the previous night in a wind battered hut on the mountain, it's just right. We spread out our gear and set up our equipment. We crafted a chute and kicker for our sledding needs. We ate junk food and sat by the warm fire. We played Yahtzee--or Yahstee if you'd prefer--and told stories. Then when the sun went down we threw caution to the wind and went night sledding. We tossed the lighted frisbee around in the dark. And after it all, we laid down around the fire and went to sleep.

Good ending to a day, right?? Well it wasn't quite over. About an hour into the night, we were awaken by the eerie scratching of rodent nails on the ceiling planks above us. I tried to ignore it and go to sleep, but Trent kept shining his light into the corner. Sure enough we finally saw the culprit. A sizeable rat jumped off the table and ran up the stairs. I think I heard him a few more times that night, but it didn't rouse me from my slumber anymore.

I arose the next morning filled with anticipation. I was looking forward to laughing as Jim attempted to cross country ski down the large and numerous hills between us and the car. You see, Jim gets to chuckle often at my expense when we go downhill skiing. So I was very excited about returning the favor. To my dismay, Jim handled the slopes like a pro, and only fell twice. Both times, he was out of range and I didn't even get to see him go down. Jerk.

We soon reached the cars after some interesting canoeing...er...sledding down the trail. The sledding experience was all I had hoped for, and I had a blast navigating the tree lined route.

Then we went to Charburger. The End.