We rent a cabin with friends deep in the Maine woods every winter. It's a yearly tradition that started a few short years ago. Every January we pack our bags and head from our separate areas of New England to converse on the back country of my great state. I'm the only Mainer of the group. The others hail from Massachusetts and New Hampshire. Our paths met at Long Lake this trip.
Four days were spent exploring the hidden trails on snowshoes, skiing the local mountain, and sliding (like kids) down the hill in the front yard towards the lakefront. Makeshift cookie sheets made for slides until we were able to shovel out of the driveway and make it to the store for a couple saucers. A greased cookie sheet, I'll have you know, flies down a hill. The snow fell like crazy for days, piling up on the nearly frozen lake that we had great views of from nearly every room in the cabin.
Board games, tending to the fire, and ice-cold beverages make for great ways to spend the evening hours. Dinners of racks of ribs, steaks, and shrimp cocktail top off a successful day. This trip was extra special, for an awfully special reason - and I'll tell you about that next Tuesday.