So I had my slam-bang fun weekend with the cabin and the skiing and the snowshoeing and the too much fondue...
I got home on Sunday morning. I took a long, hot shower, which is like a slice of heaven after a weekend in a cabin with no running water or electricity. I was starving, having only eaten a granola bar for breakfast, and so I dug into a divinely delicious leftover moosey-joe (this recipe, only made with ground moose), unpacked and put away all my camping stuff, and then and only then did I notice I was missing a backpack. I got a sinking feeling in my chest. I crept out to my car, willing it to be in the backseat. Nope. And then the sinking turned to panic as it dawned on me where I'd left it: on the table back at the cabin.
I was just about to go for a dog-walk anyway with a couple of people so instead of going to the nearby park, we rushed back to the cabin, which thankfully is only a half-hour or so away from my house. I was on pins and needles the whole way there. The pack was only packed tight with clothes and not something like -- oh, the horror -- my camera, but still... inside was that expensive skhoop skirt my parents got me for Christmas and some of my other favorite winter clothes and I was really kicking myself and thinking I should stick to wearing rags because I don't deserve nice things. We got to the parking area, I strapped on my snowshoes, I tromped the mile or so to the cabin, willing it to be there, I squirmed everytime someone zipped by on a snowmobile, wondering if anyone had stopped by the cabin after we left and decided to help themselves to my stuff.
And then I turned a corner on the trail and the cabin was in sight, the dogs were wondering what all the rushing-about was about, I stomped up the front steps, peered through the window, and heaved a big sigh of relief.
There it was.
I hiked back to the car with the pack on my back, squeezing the shoulder straps tightly.
And speaking of losing your stuff but not taking other people's stuff, look what I found pressed into the snow in the road:
A GPS unit with a car charger. I have a knack for finding other people's electronics in the snow and trying to return them. It's how I got an ipod touch a couple of years ago, walking the dog behind my gym and checking out a melting snowbank in the parking lot. I texted and called the phone number for "Dad" in the contacts list but the number was disconnected. I asked at the front counter if anyone had reported losing it. Nope. Now I keep it full of music and podcasts.
I listed the GPS unit online in a couple of lost-and-found columns and I'll give the park ranger station a call to see if anyone's called to ask about it, leave my name and phone number in case there are inquiries. Otherwise, my husband says I can do something cool with it and fill it with maps of golf courses. Yeah, sure?
So, the moral of the story is be careful with your stuff so you don't lose it. And if you find other people's stuff, do your best to return it to them. And don't be like this jerk who posted that he found an iphone in a parking lot (very nice of him) and thinks he deserves a reward for trying to return it (jerk).