Clara and I needed to get outside and away from email and work. We took Monday off to have two nights in the woods and began combing the web for cabins to stay at.
By pure luck we stumbled upon the perfect cabin in the Catskills. Run by an older couple, the two own a 43 acre patch of protected forest, on it they've build two charming cabins. The photos online looked to good to be true and we booked immediately.
We packed some camping luxuries this time. Ceramic plates and coffee mugs, silverware, and our french press. This was a relaxation weekend not a roughing it weekend. We also brought a heavy comforter instead of sleeping bags. Our car packed we set out Saturday afternoon. Taking our time we itched up the state to Socrates. We’ve camped near here before and the sights started to look familiar the more we drove.
It gets dark around 5 these days and by the time we made it to the area we were navigating around back roads in dense fog barely seeing 4 feet ahead. After a few laps we zeroed in on the two cabins and were shocked at just how perfect they were. Small, full of character, fitted with an old wood burning stove, and totally isolated. We were the only people around. The larger cabin looked the most promising, and we moved in.
Wood stove loaded the cabin started to heat up. Or so we thought. The owner had warned us the larger cabin wasn't insulated, and insulation really helps. All the heat our stove was pumping out was going straight out the windows. We had a chilly night.
In the morning before coffee or throwing more logs in the stove we packed up and headed to the smaller, but hopefully warmer cabin.
Settled in and a roaring fire later our second spot was boiling at 70-80 degrees. A huge improvement. Coffee was brewing when we spot Carin, the owner, coming through the woods. She gives us a little history on the place and a run down of the neighbor hood.
"You don't know the area now but you will soon" - I get the sense she expects to see us again.
She says a short drive away is a general store, the Circle W. It carries all the basics you'd need to cook and good high quality brands at that. We order coffee and sandwiches and head to another store to pick up something for dinner. Clara’s trusty dutch oven made the trip, and we hatch a plan to cook a pork tenderloin with potatoes in balsamic vinegar.
Back at the cabin dinner is being prepped, hot tea, and Kleine is going bazerk on a new toy. Throughout the night we crack the door, click on his collar light, and let him run around in the fading light, the boy makes laps around the cabin suddenly re-merging at the door excited as can be.
Dinner starts to fill the cabin with amazing aromas. We sit up the rest for the night talking, eating Clara’s amazing meal, drinking wine, and scheming plans for our own cabin that we know has to become a reality.
The last morning we pack up and go for a hike on the property. We come upon the teepee we heard about and conclude we must bring friends back here to hangout and cook dinner in this amazing tent. Walking back into the woods Kleine is jumping into swamps and leaping over fallen trees.
Everyone is muddy, we jump in the car and start on our way back to Brooklyn.