A slow weekend in the mountains
No signal, too many layers, and the best coffee we've ever made over a tiny stove.
We left the city on a Friday with no plan beyond a cabin, a bag of coffee, and the firm intention to do absolutely nothing. The road climbed until the signal dropped, and somewhere around the second switchback we both felt our shoulders come down an inch.
Too many layers
It was colder than the forecast promised, which is to say we wore everything we’d packed at once and were still cold. We didn’t mind. There’s a particular happiness in being slightly underprepared together — it turns small things, like finding the one working heater, into a victory you share.
The best part was the mornings: coffee made slowly on a tiny camping stove, drunk on the step while the valley filled with light. We’ve made that coffee a hundred times at home since. It has never tasted the same.