Ken’s Cabin

I spent the past couple of days embarking on a new adventure for myself: an overnight backcountry trip in a snowy winter wonderland. I’ve spent time camping in the winter, but it was in Texas. No snow. I was really excited to try something new and a little bit scary.

The Crew: Me, Krishna and Mom

To head up to Ken’s Cabin, we parked in Breckenridge and began the cross country ski up. Oh boy was it a blustery day to travel towards the Continental Divide. Luckily the windy snow was blowing at our backs and not our faces. The route was along an old railroad, which is closed to vehicles in the winter. The farther we went along our path, the less traveled it became and more it became difficult to see where to go. At times, the wind would scoop up a load of fresh snow and create a complete white out.

Baker’s Tank, Our Halfway Marker

Remnants of a Season Passed

We trudged along, one ski climbing in front of the other. It was not all that steep, but a long trip. The last third of the ski I began to get whiffs of a phantom-fire. My sweetheart, Krishna, went on ahead and was tasked with heating the cabin up. I kept thinking, “That’s a fire I smell. This cabin has got to be just around the bend.” No. It was not around the bend. Or the next. Instead I was faced with gusts of winds that nearly knocked me over. Four hours after leaving the trailhead, I finally reached Ken’s Cabin with great relief.

Ken’s Cabin at Boreas Pass on the Continental Divide, 11,481 Feet

The one room cabin had everything needed for the overnight stay: a kitchen, two beds, a wood burning stove, and plenty of water in the form of snow. The only electricity was provided in the form of three light bulbs powered by solar panels. It was windy outside, but toasty warm and calm inside. We spent our evening making delicious food and conversation.

Our Route, Marked in Green

In the morning, we took our time making breakfast and cleaning the cabin for the next visitors. I entered us into the logbook with a great flip-art of our trip. We headed down the mountain, the six miles taking me only three hours to glide. I greatly enjoyed the downhill gliding over the uphill creeping. As time went by, the path became more and more traveled. Where the previous day I longed for the signs of others to show me the way in the snow, today I wished for the solitude of the woods to extend longer. The weather was much more mild and enjoyable than the previous day with an occasional sun peeping to say hello and snow flurries falling from above to kiss us goodbye.