Tucked deep in the Oregon wilderness, just beyond the misty shores of Lost Lake, sat an old, forgotten cabin. No road signs, no cell service—just towering pines, the scent of damp earth, and the distant call of a lone owl.
I found the place by accident. My original plan was to camp by the lake, but as dusk settled, a storm rolled in. Thunder echoed through the valley, and rain pelted my gear. That’s when I spotted it—a weathered wooden cabin, barely visible through the trees.
The door creaked open, revealing a single-room interior with a stone fireplace, a rickety table, and an old iron bed frame. Someone had been here before—stacked firewood sat by the hearth, and a rusted lantern rested on the windowsill. I lit a small fire, shaking off the cold, and let the crackling flames cast flickering shadows across the cabin walls.
That night, the wind howled through the trees, but inside, I felt safe—like the cabin had been waiting for someone to keep it company. In the morning, the storm had passed, and a soft golden mist hovered over the lake. I left the cabin just as I found it, adding a fresh pile of wood for the next weary traveler.
Who else has stumbled upon an unexpected rustic retreat in the wild? Ever spent a night in a forgotten cabin?