Cabins

My request for vacation has been officially turned in, yet not officially granted.

Right now, the goal is to find a cabin. Word has it, that one of the people going with me has found one -- one that has ELK that feed right in the yard, and have been known to walk up to the door.

I should be able to get some great photos. Due to tourism, the elk of the Benezette region are rather tame, but nevertheless interesting to watch. They will be bugling in the dark no doubt, probably scaring the b-jesus out of those in my cabin who are unfamiliar with wildlife.

There will be six of us.

To be honest, the prospect of sleeping in a cabin isn't all that appealing, as my fear of arachnids and all things crawly have heightened due to the abundance of SPIDERS. By mid-October, they should be gone.

Actually...I'm thinking maybe these cabins are far less rustic than I'm thinking. I've seen the cabins there, and there are some really nice ones.

I guess my experience with me and my father's cabin at Waterloo State Park (Michigan) has me worried. [Yes, I've experienced a Waterloo Sunset, and a Waterloo sunrise for that matter!] I swore to myself that was the last time I was ever going to bathe in a plastic container, crap in an outhouse, and get the piss scared out of me by a group of marauding rednecks, ever again.

The group of hooping and "hollaring" idiots were trying to scare me and my father out of one of the two cabins in the seclusion of the Michigan forest.

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It was approximately 2:00 AM when I was awakened by the sound of violently churning gravel, and the unsettling sound of my name being whispered forcefully from across the darkness of the cabin.

"MIKEY! WAKE UP!" dad whispered

All I could see was dad's silouhette against the old cabin windows. My face was tacky from the woodsmoke within the room, and there was an unfamiliar light that was trying to force its way through the slits of our make-shift newspaper curtains. (Okay, it was emergency decorating -- give me a break!)

"Get your gun."

Have any of you ever been awakened by ANYONE and asked by ANYONE to "get your gun"?

I winced with exhaustion, but through my squinting eyes I immediately saw that this was NO joke. Dad was already poised with a 12 gauge shotgun in hand.

"HOLY CRAP!"

"Look!"

A man got out of the vehicle and examined our license plate with a flashlight.

We were miles and miles away from any sort of help. Bum-fucked Egypt was pretty close in fact. (Btw, am I the only one who wants to visit that place?)

The man got back into the vehicle.

The vehicle, full of Michigan's finest inbreds began doing doughnuts around our Isuzu trooper. (No, they weren't fucking pastries in unison...but rather, driving in tight circles!)

Dad and I made it to the deck.

He told me "Mikey, I want you to start heading toward the woods, and hide."

I was 14. I wasn't leaving my father.

"If they get out, I'm shooting."

With no phones, there was absolutely no way to call for help.

But as dad raised his gun and clicked off his safety, they dissapeared down the dirt road, and the beady little red lights soon dissipated into the darkness.

Hearts pounding, we went back to our beds where we spent the next two hours staring into the cieling in a nervous sweat, guns in ready-to-grab positions. We talked about the situation, and decided that we probably wouldn't be back.