About 7 or 8 years ago now, me and my ex husband had gone for a drive into the bush. Something typical we always did on a day where neither of us had to work or do anything around the house. We'd grab the back road map, fill the tank with gas and go. Our usual destination would be lakes far off in the boonies, even though we had no intention of ever swimming in them.
On this particular day though, we'd left the safety of our pickup to hike up to some waterfalls. We ended up stumbling across what we thought might be a hunters cabin. There was no glass on the windows, the thing must've been old, but neither of us knew how to identify how old it really was. Noting that the area inside was barely large enough for a fully grown men to stretch out head to toe and not touch the walls. The floor had been filled with pine needles from the years of neglect, and the were the wire coils remaining from what used to be a mattress leaning part way on one wall. On our left when we turned to leave, we saw the markings left by people some recent, some as early as 1980s for what we could make out. There were many more too illegible to read.
Upon leaving we chatted excitedly about what old buildings and historic sites we knew of in our area, and made the decision to research them all once we got back home.
So this, this became the beginning of a hobby for us.
I wasn't as, let's say.. awakened, when we came across the cabin that day. I wasn't centering in the cabin and trying to pick up on the general energy inside of it, in real facts I was trying not to get eaten alive by mosquitos.
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