2
Layla
So far this year, the snowfall around Tahoe City has been mild, making the drive to the cabin manageable. It’s still early in the season, though. I can recall many trips where dad drove us through beyond sketchy conditions to get us to our destination along the shores of the lake. One trip stands out vividly: I was in the backseat, panicking as an angry blizzard raged outside. The snowfall was so thick that there was almost zero visibility. But through it all, I had absolute faith in my dad. He was my hero, always getting us safely where we needed to go.
After a long drive, I finally arrive in Tahoe City. Before I head to my cabin, I need to stop and get some fresh groceries for the week, so I locate a small market in the main part of town. I step out of the car, stretch my legs, and look around at the beautiful, idyllic town. I breathe in the fresh mountain air. So far, I’m not regretting this decision at all.
I stock up on fruit, wine, coffee, and plenty of sweets. The basics. I’m not the best cook in the world, usually opting for takeout. At the checkout line I add a few more impulsive snacks as I make small talk with the outgoing teenage girl working the register. She tells me how stoked she is for the upcoming snowboarding season, and I tell her how I don’t have a ton of experience with that. Her face looks shocked and she insists that I absolutely must try it while I’m here. I promise her that I will, and then I pay and grab my bags in a rush, since we’re holding up the impatient guy in line behind me.
The cabin is only a ten-minute drive from the market. After a few wrong turns and a couple of GPS malfunctions—totally the device’s fault, not mine—I find the cabin. It’s located near the bottom of the mountain, nestled at the end of a long, quiet road. It’s not far from the shore and the main part of town, but there’s already a lot more snow up here than down there. The cabin is small but picturesque, exactly how the listing displayed it. I park in front and step out of the car into a light dusting of snow. There are a few more inches on the mountains all around, but the roads are almost clear. For now.
Taking a slow spin, I soak in the scenery. The charming cabin, the snow-draped hills, the towering pines, and the turquoise lake in the distance are breathtaking. Closing my eyes, I feel cold wind on my cheeks and catch the fragrant, crisp scent of pine. The air smells like magic. Being here again feels…right.
After unloading my bags and setting them on the welcoming front porch, I punch in the door code I received when booking the place and step inside.
The cabin’s interior surprises me. Everything is so clean and polished. Not what I expected from a mountain cabin deep in the woods. I imagined more wear and tear, maybe some dust, but no, it’s in pristine condition.
There’s an intriguing mix of décor: unique looking antique pieces alongside modern touches like a sleek espresso machine and contemporary artwork. I’ll definitely be trying that espresso machine later.
To my surprise, the kitchen is decently stocked already. There’s espresso, a full candy dish, and even some random groceries. The owner really went above and beyond. I unwrap a few chocolates and pop them into my mouth, then return to the doorway to grab my luggage and bags of groceries.
The hallway is lined with nature-inspired art. Some of the scenes look like they may have been captured right outside these walls. Other paintings capture couples embracing in the snow or amongst trees. Their faces are hidden, but there’s a quiet intimacy in each scene, and I linger on them, drawn in by the sense of love.
At the end of the hallway there are two rooms. After peeking into both, I choose the one on the right. It has a larger bed and an attached bathroom. The bed looks like the most comfortable one I’ve ever seen, making my decision easy.
On the drive up, I thought about going out to a nearby bar this evening, but now, seeing this cozy bed, I’m reconsidering. The drive has left me groggy, and the idea of staying in, curled up by the fake fireplace, sounds increasingly appealing.
I unzip my suitcase and find soft plaid pajamas and fuzzy socks right on top. This solidifies my decision to stay in. I have two whole weeks to go out and explore, I can take one night to lounge around.
Settling into bed, I scroll through my phone for a bit before drifting into memories of past trips here. The times I spent with my parents are bittersweet, but a warm happiness fills me now. Old memories I hadn’t thought of in a long time begin to resurface, and I find myself smiling. Then my mind starts drifting to one particular spring break nearly ten years ago when I met a boy who finally made me understand what all the fuss is about with first crushes. One look at his dimpled smile, and I was a goner.