Our Mountain Cabin
The ruckus from the bottom of the truck is unbearable, because of the noise and excessive shaking. As we slowly climbed the mountain road to reach our lovely cabin, it seemed almost impossible to reach the top, but every time we reached it safely. The rocks and deep potholes shook the truck and the people in it, like a paint mixer. Every window in the truck was rolled down so we could have some leverage to hold on and not loose our grip we needed so greatly. The fresh clean mountain air entered the truck; it smelt as if we were lost: nowhere close to home. It was a feeling of relief to get away from all the problems at home. The road was deeply covered with huge pines and baby aspen trees. Closely examining the surrounding, it looks as if it did the last time we were up here.
We slowly crept around the corner, finally sneaking a peek at our cabin. As I hopped out of the front seat of the truck, a sharp sense of loneliness came over me. I looked around and saw nothing but the leaves on the trees glittering from the constant blowing wind. Catching myself standing staring around me at all the beautiful trees, I noticed that the trees have not changed at all, but still stand tall and as close as usual. I realized that the trees surrounding the cabin are similar to the being of my family: the feelings of never being parted when were all together staying at our cabin.
As I walked closer to the cabin, which has been abandoned since last summer, I noticed certain materials are stored away, for the winter, such as the grill, which is taken off the hinges around the fire pit, and put underneath the cabin deck. The canoe is upside down and tightly snugged underneath the cabin deck. I also noticed the picnic table is lounged up onto the sidewall of the cabin, ready to get down. The water line and hose is shut off, and stored underneath the stairs.
I grabbed the key and walked up the stairs to the front door. The huge door, hand-made by my father when the cabin was first built, has black-spray-painted iron trees located has if they appeared to be huge hinges. As I slowly opened the door, along with the sound of the door creaking, I noticed every thing is in its place; everything is the way we had left it. The first thing that seemed to catch my eye was the great amount of flies lying on the floor. They have been trapped in here since the last time we locked up and left. As I walked in, I threw my bags on the staircase, located to the left of the door. Before I knew it, the stairs were covered with bags of clothes needed for the fun-filled weekend. I ran back outside, grabbed the cooler with my brother's help, and brought it into the kitchen. We then sat it down right next to the fridge where it found its place for the whole weekend. My brother tried turning on the propane gas and the water, so we could flush the toilet and have lighting, because we have no electricity, instead gaslights.
Before I knew it, it was late at...