Today we find ourselves back at a wonderful little secluded cabin we rented on HipCamp—Mr. Paul’s place up in northwest Minnesota, not too far from the headwaters of the mighty Mississippi River. I rolled in with my dog, got settled, and went straight into that perfect fishing hour on the lake. I’ve still got a personal vendetta against a 5‑pound bass that broke me off last time, so I put a line in, caught a couple decent fish, and let ’em go. Nothing fancy—just a quiet night, a quick snack, and us tucked in. The next day was cabin life done right: eggs for breakfast, loons calling out on the water, and a whole lot of wind that shut down my canoe plans. I hauled a telescope down to the lake (that “quick setup” about wore me out), got it calibrated, and we waited on the moon. I also talked through a little waterproof adventure canister I picked up—how I’m trying to use gear in the woods that can pull double duty, like holding fishing tackle or keeping dry fire tinder. We wrapped it all up with a solid supper, some elk calls across the lake, a little reading by the heat, and then we cleaned the cabin up and packed out our trash—leave no trace, regardless of where you are.