Into the Woods with the Hometown Heroes

'Sup, gang.

A couple times per year, like clockwork, my old high school gang - Sean, Trevor, Scrunge, and even Matt when we can get him in from San Francisco - gets together and heads out into the woods for a weekend camping trip.  Aside from those stretches when society was shut down to Covid, we've been able to go camping in the fall (2020), the winter (as in 2020, weeks before the world as we knew it collapsed), and the spring (in 2016, 2017, and 2021.)  

For our winter trips, we camp out in the hunting cabin that sits on Trevor's family hunting property - a rustic, heated cabin with gas lighting and little else.  Not much to do but sit around and grill meat, drink beer, listen to music, and catch up with one another, but it's a hell of a lot better than, say, trying to convince teenagers that Westward Expansion in the United States in the 1800s is something they should know about.

The veranda

Anyway, I had Friday off because it was a 'snow make-up day' in our school district - meaning we'd have to go to school that day if we'd burned enough snow days throughout the winter - but fortunately we haven't had very many snow days this year.  As such, I was able to drive up to Clare in the late morning and rendezvous with the rest of the ol' crew out at Trevor's house.  From there, after loading up vehicles, we caravaned out to the hunting property for a weekend of no phones, no families, and no responsibilities.

Enjoy. . .

Trevor's family hunting cabin. 

No woman's touch to be seen. . .

When we first rolled in around noon, we had to turn the furnace way up - it was so cold inside that we could see our breath, and remained like that for about two hours while we had the furnace running full blast in order to make the place livable.

I snagged this love seat as my bed for the weekend.

One of the two bedrooms, with a fancy new mattress and everything.  We figured we'd let Sean - who was going to roll in from Detroit later on in the afternoon - have this one once he came in, since he can be particular about such things.

Turning on every possible source of heat in the joint.

Scrunge snagged the other bedroom, since his back sucks and he had a couple dogs with him (as always.)

There was a satellite map of the 80-acre property hanging on the wall, which was new since the last time we were all up there.  The white peg is the cabin.

The 'kitchen.'

They had a working TV this year, with cable and everything, but we didn't get around to watching it much.

After establishing headquarters and unpacking some of our stuff, we decided to suit up into our winter adventuring gear and set off to look for a grill grate (Scrunge wanted to grill up some steaks for a meal he was doing later for dinner.)

The original structure on the property, predating the cabin.  This decrepit old camper is all they used to have up here back in the '90s when I first started coming out here.

In order to access this door you had to walk over a snow-covered trash heap.

This camper's definitely seen better days.  Those are mostly Playboy magazines from the '80s and '90s you seem decomposing all over the floor.  Classy.

Trevor and Scrunge, on the hunt for grates.

An abandoned fishing boat resting by the pond.

Our quest unsuccessful, we returned back to the cabin.

I guess this is where they hang deer carcasses when they need to be cleaned.

Everyone in this group of friends smokes but be, so I got to deal with clouds of smoke all weekend.  Had to a shit-load of laundry when I finally got back into Midland, rest assured.

Sean finally arrives.

Views from the front porch. . . 

It was much, much colder this year than the last time we were here in 2020, so some of our beers froze even when in these coolers sitting by the door.

Our impromptu grill we pieced together from an oven grate, a hubcap, and a shovel.  Ghetto as hell, but it definitely worked.

Scrunge sears up some steaks.

Sean and Trevor

Sean, being Sean.

Some weird magazines from the '90s we found in the cabin. The answer is 'no,' lady.

Scrunge whips up some Korean for dinner. . .

(I forget what this dish was called, but it was pretty good.  Different, definitely - he mixed nutmeg into the ground-up steak - but good.)

Get 'em, Tex.

Matt Thomas (at far left) showed up later in the evening and hung out for a bit - we haven't seen him since last time we were up at the cabin.

Setting my phone up for a requested group picture.  Took this one accidentally but it looks so frickin' ridiculous I decided to keep it.

Sean, Trevor, Thomas, Scrunge, and Yours Truly.

At the end of the night, ready to turn in.

Later the next morning - much later, actually (we had a rough one) - Trevor, Scrunge and I set out to once again adventure around the property and check stuff out.

Scrunge didn't make it all the way up, there was no railing around the back at the top of the steps, and everything was icy.  That would've been suicide.

Trevor and a brace of poodles.

At the second deer blind we stopped at we found a Nikon SLR, binoculars, and a bunch of other expensive stuff that Trevor's cousins forgot to bring back to the cabin (fortunately they were under the blind resting on a board, so they weren't wet, but still. . . these freezing temps can't be good for such things.)

A busted crossbow hanging in a tree.

Scrunge, up in the deer blind.

View through one of its windows.

Back on the trail.

About a half-mile later, up by the pond again.

When we got back to the cabin, Sean was still in full-on nap mode.

Grabbing some lunch.

Hick decor.

No, it doesn't work.

After lunch, Trevor passed out, and so it was just Scrunge and I left to walk around the property and check stuff out.

. . . and his dogs, I guess. They're always around.

A dilapidated old blind. Or, the remains of one, that is.

Sean finally got his ass around in the afternoon, and we decided to shoot guns off the back porch of the cabin.  We set up a bunch of cans against a mound of dirt and emptied countless magazines into them.  Soooo much fun.

Sean shows Scrunge how to handle his rifle (which is the same Ruger 10/22 carbine model as mine, I just have a nicer version because it's the anniversary edition.)

Dinner time - just using up the leftover sandwich stuff I brought along this year.

We discovered, while hanging around the cabin later on in the late afternoon/early evening, that the table we had been eating at was actually a mini- pool table. . . and it had all the balls, cues, and chalks still.  So we decided to bust it out and play a few games.

Sean vs. Scrunge

Trevor - who can sleep through just about everything - slept from like 4pm to 8pm that day, it was ridiculous.

We woke Trevor up after awhile, and we ended up playing cards for a good portion of the night.  A much more tame affair this year, seeing how we're all getting older and aren't the hell-raisers we once were.  Still a great time, though - definitely looking forward to the next time.

- Brian