Interrorem Cabin (Pt.1)

We took a drive up to Washington’s Olympic Peninsula to spend the weekend in the woods in a rustic cabin with TERROR in the name (Interrorem).

We managed somehow over two nights to avoid being stalked by Sasquatch or harassed by forest-dwelling gnomes (though a pickup full of agitated hillbillies rolled up around 11pm and parked out on the street in front of the cabin for a while…). So, yeah, besides nearly being rounded up and dragged off into the woods, Deliverance-style, pretty uneventful.

It’s about a 3-4 hour drive from Portland, but a really beautiful one from Olympia onward up 101 N (the US-101 N that hugs Hood Canal, not the US-101 N that hugs the coast 50 miles west…got to love the U.S. highway numbering system). We stopped for dinner at the Geoduck Restaurant (pronounced Gooey-duck, for non-native Washingtonians), a local favorite up the road near Brinnon that I’d been to a handful of times. After dinner, we made our way up the lonely old Duckabush Road, in the dark, to our secluded cabin in the woods.

nterrorem isn’t just any rustic cabin. The humble little log cabin, constructed in the spring of 1907, served as the original ranger station for Olympic National Park — both office and residence of the Park’s first official custodian, Emery J. Finch.

The first item of business (after, of course, performing the requisite axe-murderer check in all the rooms–check. And…wait a second…Ok. Just Lori. Check.) was to get the gas lanterns lit.

Yep, that’s right no electricity here.

But we’ve got propane! Propane lights, propane stove/heater, and propane oven/range. We’ve even got a propane refrigerator, which I was initially saddened by, thinking that there’s no way Ranger Finch had such luxuries — and he probably didn’t — at least not in 1907. But subsequent years brought electricity and running water to the cabin, and all the mod-cons associated with such technology.

And then, they yanked them out.

When the cabin was opened to the public for rental, they tore all of that stuff out, presumably as a cost-savings measure, but I’m also assuming to enhance the rustic feel of the cabin.

Because of the propane touches, Interrorem was certainly on the more luxurious end of rustic cabins we’ve stayed in. No chopping wood to cook or stay warm here. But you do still have pump and carry your own water from the well outside of the compound.

Lori and I really enjoy and look forward to weekends like this when we get to disconnect from the din and distraction of the rest of the world. It’s something we get to practice a lot more outside of the U.S. in the places we often like to travel — where the communication infrastructure generally isn’t as developed and expectations are very different. Yet, it’s an ongoing struggle in this country to be present and fully invested in the current moment. You really have to work to make it happen, which is frustrating and just pretty unfortunate. Fortunately, there are still places like Interrorem that make this easy. Though not remote by any stretch, being here feels like a world removed.

Our peaceful abode for the weekend has three rooms: a front room, kitchen, and one bedroom. It currently is outfitted to sleep four with a futon in the front room and set of bunks in the bedroom. There are no doors between the rooms, but there is a curtain dividing the bedroom from the front room.

The pit toilet is located about 50 yards from the cabin, just outside of the little compound.

Temps dropped to the mid-thirties at night, but sleeping in the front room near the propane heater-stove kept us toasty. It was a clear night and we were fortunate enough to catch a view of the stars before moonrise, which are pretty incredible up here.

We awoke the next morning to the peace and solitude of winter in the Olympic National Forest as we carried out morning chores.

Yes, that is the car there next to the cabin — another luxury as far as these rustic cabins go. In the past, Lori and I have had to pack all our stuff in a mile or two. There are in fact a lot of cabins and shelters like this in the PacNW that you have to hike several miles, or even snowshoe or ski into. There are a couple of fire lookouts I’ve been wanting to stay in for years that require 6-10 miles of hoofing to get to, but they often require a 4×4 vehicle to access the trail and are generally not ideal for those with child. Some day.

The cabin is located on a well-maintained gravel/paved road about 4 miles from Highway 101. There’s room for parking a couple of vehicles in the compound. Outside of the compound, you have to pay the parking day fee.

Interrorem is also a great jumping-off place for hiking. There are two worthwhile hikes originating at the trailhead outside of the cabin compound, and many others farther up the gravel road.

We kept meaning to visit Port Townsend every time we came to the peninsula but just didn’t seem to have the time. Lori’s never had a real opportunity just to walk around downtown and I hadn’t in years. It’s a great town to visit, and I always love coming here, but I’d have to say that summer time is far preferable. That icy breezy coming off the water in January is brutal. Brrr.

Ever wonder what the story is?

This car is actually on the side yard of someone’s house, right off Highway 101. Meaning someone just sort of said “to hell with it” and let their yard go all hog wild, or worse, maybe just forgot about it. I’d like to see their face when they go looking one day for Aunt Betsy’s big old boat that, “I swear I parked somewhere around here.”