Overnight in the Cabin ... Alone

Base Camp, Denver, CO, Elevation 5,280 feet

Journal Entry, July 30, 2018, 8 a.m. 

Today I'm driving about two hours straight up. 

I'm going to my cabin in the Rocky Mountains of Colorado, elevation 11,000 feet. 

I've been there several times before but the big difference this time is 

I'm going by myself and staying overnight. 

The weather is cool and cloudy, not unusual for this time of day.
It should burn off in an hour or so. Perhaps it's a bit more hazy than usual
because of the horrific forest fires on the west coast.

I'm feeling excited, a little nervous, but mostly looking forward to spending the night
in Timberline Cabin solo.  I hope the skies will be clear enough tonight to see the stars 

and the bears will all tucked into their beds for the night.
I appreciate all of your concerns about my safety and have taken precautions. 

Timberline Cabin: Journal Entry, July 30, 2018, 10:30 a.m. 

I make it up the rocky road to the cabin with no unpleasant incidents. 

I drive slowly and carefully, relieved that I have four new tires and 

happy that I won't have to drive back out this road on the same day.

I feel as if this is my own little world up here. 

The cabin is dwarfed by massive mountains and tall pine trees that rise up all around me.
The weather is sunny, windy and cool. 

The temperature outside and inside the cabin is 55 degrees.

I have a lot of little projects to accomplish today so I get busy. 

I love decorating the cabin and making it our own. 

On my last visit, I spray-painted two bright green wicker chairs a dark brown.

Now, I tug freshly washed and bleached seat covers onto the cushions and 

add a red velvet throw pillow on each chair. So much better. 

I join two woven scarves to make one long one for the table under the front windows.

Then I add a Hopi basket, some antlers and two red battery candles.

 Next, I tackle the Roman shades in the bedroom. 

As they were nailed into the wall instead of screwed, it is quite difficult to get them down. 

With them finally removed, I hang some Martha Stewart lace curtains that I had at home. 

The room looks like an old Victorian bedroom now. Charming. 

I think the old miner who originally owned this cabin would have loved the lacy curtains. LOL.

Noon: This task actually wore me out (must be the altitude) so I take a lunch break.
 (Note: I don't get hungry up here and usually lose a couple of pounds
each time I visit which I promptly gain once I'm back in town!)

Temperature outside is now 70 and 66 inside. I have to be careful to close the doors so the hummingbirds don't get in. I don't think I could reach them if they flew up into the vaulted ceiling. 

As I putter, I listen to an opera CD, something that probably, 

no make that definitely, would NOT happen if Ron were here.

It's breathtaking to watch the light changing on the mountains as the sun dips to the far side of the cabin. When the wind gusts, it feels as if the whole cabin is shaking, as if it's a living thing. 

I feel safe and warm to have this little shelter from the elements. I've never had a skylight so I love putting my head back and watching the clouds slide past the glass framed by pine boughs.

7 p.m. I listen to a CD book but my attention is drawn to what's happening outside. 

The sun is slowly sliding behind a pine tree in front of the cabin; the mountains glow golden, 

gradually swallowed up by lengthening shadows. The rocks take on a rosy glow like a ripe peach.

Quietly, the shadow moves up from the base of the mountain 

until the entire mountain is wrapped in shade. 

I keep running outside to snap pictures of the changing scene.

I listen to a CD by John Barry, so reminiscent of a favorite Out of Africa soundtrack, 

sending me miles away. I go to bed early, weighed down by heavy blankets. 

It's totally dark and quiet. I fall asleep easily.

NEXT Day, 5:30 a.m. 

I wake up early but it is too cold to get out of bed.
I recall it was too cloudy last night to see any stars when I trooped outside to use the bathroom.
Pulling on my cold clothes, I see the sun peeking over a rocky ledge like a shy child.

It's 31 degrees outside, 49 inside. It must have been in the 20s last night.

Silvery frost blankets the front deck and bushes. I can't stop shivering
but I don't light the wood stove because smoke fills the room while the fire is catching

and I can't take the chance of a hummingbird darting through an open door.

Around 7 a.m., the sun is beginning to touch the cabin but it's still 49 degrees inside. 

I light the propane stove for the first time and don't blow anything up.
Then I make myself a cup of hot tea. It tastes unbelievably good. 

I stand in a tiny pool of sunlight while I sip my steaming tea,
cradling the warm cup with both hands. 

At 8 a.m. the temp has finally climbed to a whopping 50 degrees inside the cabin. 

I step outside and am pleasantly surprised to feel the warmth of the early morning sun. 

I decide to collect kindling, thinking some physical activity might warm me up.

At 9 a.m., it's a balmy 55 degrees. 

I go for a short walk down our road to see if any of my two-legged neighbors are home. 

I meet Glenda who welcomes me inside her warm and charming cabin. 

Nice to have a local phone number in case of emergency. 

We will make great hiking partners once I can walk
from my car to the cabin without getting winded.

When I return to the cabin, I am quite tired and don't want to think about driving back to Denver. 

But, believing it would be safer if I take off before I'm really fatigued, 

I reluctantly pack up and drive home without incident. 

But I do truly hate that bumpy road.

What I Missed at the Cabin:

Ron, my dog Roxy, indoor plumbing, paved roads, nearby restaurants, warmth.

What I Didn't Miss at the Cabin:

Traffic, people talking loudly on their cell phones, telemarketers, noise, did I mention traffic?

I hope you enjoyed your visit. Can't wait to go back!
(If you missed my last post about this cabin, you can read it Here.)

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Linking with:
Shabby Art Boutique, Little Farmstead, Our Southern Home, Dwellings, The Dedicated House,
Between Naps on the Porch, Stone Gable, A Stroll Thru Life, Our Hopeful Home,
Designthusiasm, A Delightsome Life, Follow the Yellow Brick Home, French Country Cottage

French Cowboy Style

Although my first love is French Country, I'm still drawn to the southwest.

My sunroom is a mix of Vintage, Native American and Cowboy styles.
Maybe I'll call this style French Cowboy!

Yep, they do have cowboys in the Camarque region of the South of France.
They ride beautiful white horses and herd distinctive black bulls.
Giddyup!!

I didn't have an opportunity to take any pictures of these French cowboys
when I was in France but
I loved this white horse galloping on a carousel in Paris.

But I digress.
Back to the sunroom.

There's something about a black raven decoy wearing silver jewelry

against a rustic turquoise cabinet that makes my heart sing.

Or the worn leather and metal on old spurs.

We love our rustic sunroom in the Fall with its little gas stove
making it cozy and warm on cool mornings.
It's the perfect place to display my southwestern/vintage collection.

This room has an interesting history. 

One wall is the original 1907 exterior of the house that included a tiny back porch.

The other wall was created in the 70's when a former owner expanded the porch
to create a small room.

We replaced the leaky windows with energy-efficient ones

when carpenter ants completely destroyed that wall.

I kid you not. Stay tuned for that horror story in a future post.

This vintage Beacon blanket, with its Native America designs and Fall colors, 

adds warmth and nubby texture to the room.

The sweet Begay Indian prints on the wall are collectible.

Antlers and art -- a striking mix of nature and man.

I've been collecting little cowboy boots for years. I have about fifty pair!

(Stored in vintage suitcases).

I usually find them at a thrift store for a couple of dollars but 

if they're in a Santa Fe shop, forget it. They can go for a LOT more.

Love the stitching and scuffed toes!

An earthy blend of textures fills an old leather desk organizer.

This little basket was always on our dinner table when I was growing up. 

We never had a meal without sliced white bread in the basket. It must be about 75 years old.
The basket, not the bread! 

I think my mother bought the basket at a roadside stand in Arizona in the 40's.

The hand-made candle holder is from the Taos Pueblo. 

There is something sparkly in the clay and the candle makes it come alive.

We found this old adobe brick mold in a dump in Taos, New Mexico.

It makes a perfect shelf for some of my collectibles.

Zuni buffalo and coyote fetishes seem to pay homage to the female form.
I love the way the sun is shining on her.

I'm not sure how to blend this style with French Country so I corral it all into one room.
A pretty grapevine basket with dried hydrangeas and other Fall touches
looks pretty in any room and with any style.

I don't think you have to limit yourself to just one style
as long as you love it and it works well with your other styles.
If something speaks to you, listen.

Sharing with: Dwellings, Rustic & Refined, Between Naps on the Porch, Coastal Charm,
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Have a Daily Cup of Mrs. Olson, Maison de Pax, Rooted in Thyme, Shabby Art Boutique,
French Country Cottage, Thoughts from Alice, Creative Country Mom