Romantic Fantasy

Have you ever fantasized about spending the winter with your romantic interest in a remote cabin in the woods? You could read by the fireplace while big, fluffy snowflakes carpet the world in white. In the evening, you and your paramour would sip wine by the fire and play board games, or maybe, you’d drink hot cocoa and plan your future together. Doesn’t this sound idyllic? Wouldn’t it be perfect?

Warning! You’d better stop reading now if you want to hang on to this fantasy because I plan to explain the harsh realities of spending a winter in the frozen woods, isolated from civilization.

I am the first to agree we all need to unplug occasionally. Turn off the cellphone and step away from the computer. Social Media won’t crash if you don’t check in for a few days. Put down the video game controls and get outdoors. Spend time with your family, and sure, go on a romantic getaway with your special someone. I can tell you from experience, though, care-taking a remote Alaska lodge for the winter is usually not a romantic experience.

While I sometimes curse the folks who invented the cell phone, my heroes are the geniuses who figured out how to pump, pipe, funnel, or otherwise move water from its natural source to my kitchen faucet, my shower head, my washing machine, and my toilet. You probably don’t appreciate these engineers as much as you should, but if you decide to spend a winter in a rustic cabin in the Alaska wilderness, they will gain your undying respect when your running water freezes and you must haul water bucket by bucket for all your needs. When your day revolves around finding water and transporting it to your living quarters, you stop living and instead begin only to exist. There is nothing romantic about hauling water.

Things can always get worse, though. If the temperature continues to drop, the challenge shifts from hauling water to finding water, and when the drains freeze, you must haul clean water into the cabin and dirty water out of the cabin.

You quickly learn five gallons is more than enough to bathe, but you must haul twenty gallons to run a load of laundry. You can flush the toilet with two gallons, and you can wash the dishes with even less. All these gallons add up, though, and before long, you and your romantic someone start arguing over unnecessary water usage. You find yourself brushing your teeth and washing your face on the sly lest you be accused of water hoarding.

Water is only one of the many challenges you face on a cold, Alaska night. When the temperature drops well below freezing, the generator coughs and sputters, the outboard moans, and the chainsaw whines.

When the wind blasts, the curtains billow, and the temperature inside the cabin drops to near freezing. You huddle closer to the fire to stay warm and start dreaming about a resort with a sandy beach somewhere near the equator. Fountains, waterfalls, and swimming pools decorate the grounds of your dream hotel, but the best feature of this resort is the bathroom in your suite, with its beautiful toilet, huge bathtub, and endless water. You dream of standing under the shower for hours.

Oh yes, and for this fantasy, you plan to travel alone.

Robin Barefield lives in the wilderness on Kodiak Island where she and her husband own a remote lodge. She has a master’s degree in fish and wildlife biology and is a wildlife viewing and fishing guide. Robin has published three novels, Big Game, Murder Over Kodiak, and The Fisherman’s Daughter. She draws on her love and appreciation of the Alaska wilderness as well as her scientific background when writing. 

Login/out