Welcome to Wednesday Wondshots, the bi-weekly series where we share a bonus story with you in the middle of the week.

This time we have a story by an author named Quiet Protocol.

When I was younger, around 13 or 14 years old, I was invited to go on a camping trip with my best friend Pat, his dad, and his uncle.

It was this kind of guy's weekend, which was something that I'd like to do with my kids now.

We planned to fish, cook over fires, have our first couple of beers, sleep in tents tents and do some other stuff like that.

We drove pretty far up north, but this many years later, being 30, I can't remember where we went

exactly. I know it was about two hours north of where I currently live.

We had parked Pat's dad's truck off to the side of the road in a bush and canoed a pretty

far distance down the river to a lake and set up our camp at the edge of the water.

Right across the water we could see this really old abandoned looking cabin.

Well, from the outside it looked abandoned.

The roof was sagging and all of the bushes were overgrown to the point of growing over the cabin itself.

At one point Pat's dad and his uncles were fishing and drinking, and they allowed us to go adventuring by ourselves for a bit.

Surprisingly, they actually allowed us to take one of the canoes across the water to check

out the abandoned cabin. In hindsight, I don't think that I would let my boys do something like

that, since I wouldn't be able to get to them in an emergency. But they were drunk and feeling loose.

Having this kind of freedom, granted to us 14-year-old boys, was exciting.

So we did exactly that.

We paddled across the water and checked it out.

On the outside, this thing looked super dilapidated.

The front door was unlocked, so we let ourselves inside.

That was a mistake.

...