Timberwolf

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It was the winter of 1976. My husband (at the time) and I had a great landlord. He gave us 50 yard line tickets to a Seahawks game, the one where Jim Zorn held his arms wide open and the ball bounced off his chest. Those Hawk fans may remember this memorable game that is all I remember other than long bathroom lines, loud and crowded. Thankfully we only did it once. Gary our landlord also had a cabin near to a ski resort and loaned us the cabin. We invited along another couple and stocked the car with our skis and food, sleeping bags and camping essentials. It was a few hours’ drive but we were we then only minutes from the ski resort. It was not the typical cabin in the woods, it was rustic, very rustic. When we got to the door a small window had been broken out but we covered it and made sure to tell Gary when we got back so he knew it was damaged when we arrived. We had to start a fire in a wood stove to heat the place and cook. The bathroom was an outhouse and not fun in the middle of the night. We made a fire, prepared our beds and ate and drank before retiring. The next morning we hit the slopes and it was nice to be so close and not have to drive so far. After two nights we headed home and it was only then that my husband told me that when he got to the door and saw the broken window there was also a knife sticking out of the wall which he had removed before I saw it. A few days later we discovered some criminal had broken free and taken a hostage and had been hiding out there! Thank Goddess he was gone when we arrived.