Book review: ‘The Cabin’ a good escape from reality

Patrick Hutchinson is a writer trying to bang out a living the only way available at a moment in his life: writing marketing emails.

Hutchinson wanted to work at a newspaper or magazine, as writers in past centuries did to craft their art before tackling bigger projects with more uncertain challenges. Every writer would like a regular paycheck before the transition into bigger projects. It’s a dream of skipping the starving artist stage.

But here inside the pages of “Cabin,” we find Hutchinson with a truly 21st century job, and in true modern fashion, feeling as though he’s wasting his life. His life is much like many a millennial, working, going home, out with friends, maybe out for dinner or a beer or two. He’s jealous of everyone around him in Seattle who seems to be making more money in more challenging jobs and living richer lives. Or maybe that’s what they want everyone on Instagram to think.

Hutchinson dreamed of being Anthony Bourdain or Hunter S. Thompson and instead worked as a sushi busboy and an email marketer.

While scrolling the web at work – and who doesn’t, really? – he happened upon a listing for a cabin near the Skykomish River. It overlooked the massive Sunset Falls, a 104-foot waterfall deep in the woods on the outskirts of Index.

“It looked like something out of the Old Testament,” Hutchinson writes. And there, for $7,500 that he, like a true adult coming of age in the 2000s, borrowed from his mother. With me, being roughly his mother’s age, reading that brought a glimmer of nostalgia to the parsed corners of my mouth.

Just like that, Hutchinson sets off on what the subtitle of the book calls “Off the Grid Adventures with a Clueless Craftsman.”

In the “Cabin,” Hutchinson certainly escapes the doldrums.

The story also brought a raucous rain of out-loud laughs.

Simply reading about Hutchinson and his friends learning how to buy and use power tools is worth the time spent with this book.

“Growing up, most of us didn’t have the benefit of a father who taught us the sorts of things you see fathers teach their kids in movies,” he writes. “And if we did, we didn’t have the sense to listen to them. We didn’t know how to build houses or fix cars.

“We didn’t know the difference between a jigsaw and a scroll saw or why you might want an orbital sander versus a palm sander. We faked our way through engine trouble when girls were around, and we tried our best to offer firm handshakes whenever we could, even if the strongest thing we normally gripped was a Nintendo controller or a guitar neck. As adults, our fears or lost security deposits kept us from the sorts of trial-and-error projects that might have offered a few lessons in home renovations, but that certainly didn’t mean we didn’t want to.”

The cabin, he finds, was built by someone with the same skill and knowledge as Hutchinson and his friends. The cabin is even located on the aptly named road Wit’s End. But the weekend project soon becomes an escape from the humdrum life in a cubical office in Seattle. He discovers the gift of no internet service and the quiet of the wilderness. He learns the harshness of nature, with mudslides and mountain lions, and finds ways to live with both.

He also might find an escape from the boredom of his life. He certainly found his voice as a writer along the way.

We often talk about summer reads and reads at the beach. “Cabin” is a good book to curl up with a blanket and a fire as winter rages outside.

The laughter alone will warm you.