The dirt track starts just outside town, heading towards the mountains. The first few miles are smooth, then things start to get a bit bumpy, but Johny's skillfull driving makes for an entertaining ride. The landscape gets rougher as you climb more and more, and pretty soon the only thing that reminds you of civilisation is the small road.
When you stop for a little leg-stretching the only thing you can hear are the sounds of nature. No cars, no planes, no voices. Nothing.
It's allmost dark when you reach the cabin. The headlights of the landcruiser cast a harsh light on the surroundings, and when you get out you can hear the lonely cry of a wolf, soon joined by a chorus of howls. They seem far away. An owl cries nearby, and the fluttering insects drawn to your headlights soon attract a small bat, swooping and chittering.
The cabin itself has an old stately beuty. It takes a while to remove the wooden shutters, but soon you have a fire roaring in the fireplace, and the gaslights give a warm, yellow light, showing the worn but fairly comfortable interior.
The cabin is a bit of an oddity. Built originally by gramps, in the fifties, the basement is built as a wannabe shelter, fully lockable. It is now used as a storage, the old bunks used as shelves. There is a lockable reinforced chest, wich is where the guns are kept. The toilet and two showers were recently renewed.
The first floor, built later, contains the livingroom-cum-dining room, with a fireplace, some comfy sofas and the dinner table. The kitchen is situated next to it, and opens to a large porch at the back. The outside chairs and tables are stored a small shed outside.
The first floor has five small bedrooms, each containing a double bed and a closet. The master bedroom is a bit larger and has a double window and a private bathroom.
On the top floor is a small attick, containing the necessary stuffed beast and other junk.
There's a small shed outside, wich contains the garden furniture, a barbeque and some tools.