In the heart of a sprawling hundred-acre sanctuary, where the whispering pines and steadfast birches stand sentinel over a landscape as old as time, there lies a remote and rustic cabin. It’s a simple, one-room affair, rugged and unpretentious, built with the kind of craftsmanship that speaks to long, honest hours and hands that know the feel of solid construction and scent of wood. Ducks and geese find refuge here, while the industrious beavers carve their homes from tall standing timbers that line the land’s expanse. Deer wander through the underbrush, turkeys scratch at the earth, and the occasional bear pads silently through the trees. Grouse drum in the early morning, and the air is thick with the scent of pine and wet earth. Inside, the cabin is a retreat from the world, lit by the soft glow of propane lamps. A gas stove stands ready to warm a humble meal after a long day spent wandering the woods or tracking the game that roam this wild expanse. A well-built road leads to this place, hidden nearly a mile from Stacy Road, far enough to feel the world’s cares slip away but close enough to find provisions in Pulaski or Sandy Creek should the need arise.
