I blame my mother for my obsession with getting a “deal”. Back in the early 00’s I remember her clipping coupons each week, and actually keeping track of them, then pulling them out for seemingly magical use at the grocery store. Whenever a strange grocery item showed up that nobody liked to eat, we could be sure it was the result of some kind of “deal”. She once, famously, brought home bags of dog food when we didn’t have a dog, and donated them to the local animal shelter. “They were free!” she insisted.
My mom is the reason I buy my flights 8 months early (before I actually know my travel plans), why I drag used furniture off the side of the road, and why, when I saw a gorgeous mountain cabin in Colorado on Hipcamp for $13, I could not resist!
This month, George and I had overlapping tours out West. Whenever this happens we try to take advantage of the situation and book ourselves a little getaway, since we rarely see one another at home. This $13 cabin seemed like a dream come true and I went ahead and booked it before the “deal” disappeared, and also…before reading further into the description.
“The beautiful 2.9-mile hike to get to the cabin is well worth it”, stated a review from August. No problem, I thought, we hike, we are backpacking people, and this will add to the adventure.
“Make sure to bring your own firewood for the wood stove”, said another review. Backpacking with firewood?, I thought, Ok, that’s kind of heavy but we can do it. “The stove needs wood that’s 6” long, maximum”, said the listing. 6” long? That is tiny! I guess we cut the firewood into 3rds, OK, we just need some firewood and a chainsaw. Or, we can hand saw it…
The more I read about the site, the more complicated it got. “The cabin is at 12,000 feet”, stated the listing, “the highest AirBnb in the world. There will be snowpack until July.” Having hiked through snow before, I knew the pain of the fall through and the trudge. So, I messaged our host to check on the snow situation. “You will definitely need snowshoes after the river crossing!”, she said. Showshoes? River Crossing??
So this is how, one Tuesday morning, George and I drove my sister’s SUV up a mountain to one of the most intense, straight up-hill for 3 miles, trails I’ve ever been on, with snowshoes rented from REI, and hand-sawn firewood stuffed into our extremely heavy packs. Had we ever used snowshoes before? Did we have waterproof socks? of course not. What is a waterproof sock? Who needs feeling in their toes anyway?
When we reached Holy Cross City (the relics of a 150-year-old mining operation,) with our feet frozen from a combination of river water and snow, we thought we had arrived at our destination. However, our actual cabin was up a small jeep road, the steepest slope yet of the entire hike. The snow was wet from the spring melt and we each fell through at least three times on the way up. One leg would go all the way down (about 3-4 feet) along with a snowshoe and pole, and you had to find a way to wrench yourself back out without falling through again.
Pictured: Relics of Holy Cross City
About 5 feet from our adorable destination, I fell through the snow one last time. Completely exhausted, I pulled my wet leg (not to be confused with the band) out, and literally rolled across the snow onto the cabin threshold. It was a truly unforgettable experience.
Have to say though, the view slapped.