I was traveling through the area on a move, so I was unfamiliar with this wilderness. I chose a cabin for added safety in grizzly country. I came in at night using Google maps, and there were ponds in the middle of the road the whole way from the highway. I was not in an off-road vehicle but also did not know the roads would be impassable to a rented cabin maintained by the forest service. Somehow I made it there with lucky driving, but the cabin was very cold, and as the wood was downstairs in an unlit cellar, I had no idea there was more wood for the stove until the morning. I high centered on the way out after sliding off a bank of mud, alone with my puppy. Miraculously, I found power lines intersecting the road not far from my car. When I called the forest service in a slight panic because I don't know anyone within states of me, they said they couldn't help. "We don't send people." So with a dying phone, I called around more for help, and finally the sheriff's office gave a number for a couple towing companies. It was 300 bucks to just have a pickup pull me from the mud, but I was ecstatic to get out of there. I certainly made mistakes continuing on this journey once I saw the road at night, but I did not know where else to go. The forest service will not help you, even in dire situations. Hunters passed me as I was stranded and urgently warned me of grizzlies, and I could hear a pack of wolves or dogs howling in the distance. When I finally returned to the ranger's office to return the key, I saw multiple forest service pickups sitting in the parking lot. They could have been there so much quicker than a tow, especially given the complexity of backcountry USFS roads. It was difficult trying to communicate my location to the people actually willing to help. I hope one day whatever policies kept the USFS from helping me in any way will change. Receiving no help from them was not just logistically difficult with my dying phone but emotionally jarring as well.

I was traveling through the area on a move, so I was unfamiliar with this wilderness. I chose a cabin for added safety in grizzly country. I came in at night using Google maps, and there were ponds in the middle of the road the whole way from the highway. I was not in an off-road vehicle but also did not know the roads would be impassable to a rented cabin maintained by the forest service. Somehow I made it there with lucky driving, but the cabin was very cold, and as the wood was downstairs in an unlit cellar, I had no idea there was more wood for the stove until the morning. I high centered on the way out after sliding off a bank of mud, alone with my puppy. Miraculously, I found power lines intersecting the road not far from my car. When I called the forest service in a slight panic because I don't know anyone within states of me, they said they couldn't help. "We don't send people." So with a dying phone, I called around more for help, and finally the sheriff's office gave a number for a couple towing companies. It was 300 bucks to just have a pickup pull me from the mud, but I was ecstatic to get out of there. I certainly made mistakes continuing on this journey once I saw the road at night, but I did not know where else to go. The forest service will not help you, even in dire situations. Hunters passed me as I was stranded and urgently warned me of grizzlies, and I could hear a pack of wolves or dogs howling in the distance. When I finally returned to the ranger's office to return the key, I saw multiple forest service pickups sitting in the parking lot. They could have been there so much quicker than a tow, especially given the complexity of backcountry USFS roads. It was difficult trying to communicate my location to the people actually willing to help. I hope one day whatever policies kept the USFS from helping me in any way will change. Receiving no help from them was not just logistically difficult with my dying phone but emotionally jarring as well.

The spring is amazing. The cabin is ... it’s not rustic, it’s not quaint, it just feels abandoned and hence sorta creepy

The spring is amazing. The cabin is ... it’s not rustic, it’s not quaint, it just feels abandoned and hence sorta creepy