**************
This story takes place way back in February of 1996. It's told from my perspective as it was happening, in a remote area of the Canadian Rockies.
**************
Oh my god, she's right. That IS a building. There's no way anyone lives there because it's currently buried in snow drifts, but at the very least it'll be shelter.
I shake my arms and ski poles excitedly in the air to confirm the good news, and then I emphatically point towards the structure to show that we have to head there. We have no choice.
It's so blustery out that seeing is hard enough, so trying to communicate by talking is completely out of the question. But my wife and daughter get the message, and we all begin the hike across this deserted snow covered ridge in our skis, trying desperately to finally find cover, and hopefully a way to communicate our predicament, too.
I've skied my whole life, and while I've always known there are risks involved with this sort of extreme backcountry skiing, I assumed that if I ended up dying doing what I loved, it would've been because of an avalanche. But simply getting lost like this? Never in a million years would I have thought this was possible. God, I feel so fucking stupid and like such a failure. And worst of all, not only have I put myself at risk, but now Beth and Courtney are in danger too. All because of me. Fuck!
But what's done is done, and now all I should be focusing on is getting us rescued. To be honest, for the last hour or two as it started to seem more and more hopeless that we'd find anyone, all the while knowing sunset was fast approaching, I started to contemplate the worst. Our chances of surviving an overnight out here would be pretty poor even without this blizzard, but with it? Forget it. But now that we found this house, I'm a lot more optimistic. We can do this.
The three of us take it one step at a time and eventually make our way to the side of the building. It's not an easy hike, but our motivation to get there is through the roof. Once we arrive, we see a little porch and a door. We pop off our skis, climb up to the door in our ski boots, turn the clearly rusted doorknob, and to our amazement push it open and hurry inside. Holy shit, we found shelter!
As soon as I close the door behind us, the celebration is on. The three of us are hugging, jumping, and ripping off our goggles and helmets to finally be able to see and talk to one another.
I grab my wife's chilled face and give Beth a wonderfully passionate kiss right on the lips. Next, I turn to my 19-year-old daughter Courtney and say, "We're ok. We're going to be ok, darling." I mean it too. I actually think we are going to get out of this alive, now.
But then we all start looking around inside. It's really dark, partly because the sun is already behind the peaks, and partly because all but one of the windows in this shack are completely buried in snow. And while it's certainly way better to be inside this place than out in the driving snowstorm, it's still probably only 25 degrees in here, so hypothermia is going to be a real concern.
But there's a fireplace! Jackpot. This shack honestly looks like it could be 70 or 80 years old, and judging by the dust and the few objects that appear to be left in here, it clearly hasn't been inhabited for decades. Does anyone still even own this place?
So many questions, but none of them really matter. All that matters is this fireplace looks useable, and it appears the chimney is clear too as there's actually a little bit of snow sitting where the wood would go.
"Is there firewood? We need firewood." I stress, as all three of us start searching this tiny winter cottage. It's probably only 200 square feet, max, and it's really just two rooms. There's no kitchen or bathroom even. There are hardly any items around either. I see 3 or 4 empty beer cans and perhaps one full one? But the can is super old, as it even has a pull tab and the label is too faded to read. There's a small table with a plastic tablecloth, that appears to be crusted into its current position. And not that it really would've been useful or still good, but there's no food anywhere to be found.
Courtney then screams. "Aaaaahhhh!!!" And while my heart definitely skips a beat, a split second later I realize it's a happy scream.
"Matches!!! I got matches!" She says excitedly as she comes running over. And it's not just a book, but a whole box of what appear to be perfectly usable matches. Awesome. This is huge.
We're halfway there, and I would argue that was the harder half of the equation. "All we need now is something to burn. Anything!" I declare, as all three of us continue frantically looking around. But as exciting as my daughter's discovery is, it soon becomes apparent that these matches might be pointless, because there is literally nothing even remotely flammable to be found. No firewood, no wooden objects, not even any paper or cloth objects to get us started. The table is metal, its table cloth is plastic, and any wood that's part of the structure of the shack seems unlikely to be pried off with our bare hands. I even check outside and do a full loop around the building, but there's nothing. Fuck.
And to make matters worse, it's starting to get really dark, too. To be honest, I'm starting to panic, but I know I need to act like everything is fine to make sure my wife and daughter don't realize how dire I think this situation might be. If we're going to get out of this, we need to keep our wits and stay positive.
"Ok. Here's the plan." I say as calmly as I can. "Once it's light out tomorrow, we can find some branches and shrubs to burn, and we'll have heat. We'll get a fire going and we'll keep it going as long as we need to. Not only will that keep us warm, but the smoke will act as a signal, too."
Beth and Courtney are both nodding their heads, as if they believe this is going to work.
Then I continue, "We just need to get through tonight. We have our coats. We'll form a ball in that corner over there and huddle together, and we'll get through this."