(#9) Cabin Chronicles: The Part Where You Get Tired
We figured buying our Yellowstone fixer-upper wouldn’t be an easy process. This wasn’t going to be a buy-it, move-in, start-hosting kind of situation. This was going to take time, vision, renovation, and a whole lot of patience before it would become what we wanted it to be.
But no spreadsheet could fully prepare us for this part: the messy middle.
The long, slow stretch where the novelty wears off, the adrenaline fades, and all that’s left is a whole lot of work and an ever-growing to-do list. The phase that's not quite beginning, not quite end.
A big vision feels so exciting when you start, when it’s alive and full of potential, but then comes the hard part: the showing up, working hard, and wondering if you’ll ever actually get there.
Wait, what’s the problem?
Let me back up in case you’re thinking, “Wait a minute… You just had a great first rental season and are excited about the renovation plans ahead. What’s the problem?”
Well, here’s a brief overview of the last few months.
Our rental season ended in October. Right away, we started renovations for Cabin 2’s bathroom addition and Cabin 3’s tiny home build. Jon returned to the office part-time, so I spent three weeks in Gardiner solo to kick things off, map out layouts, and make decisions.
At the end of November, I came back to Texas for a week before we set off together for our 2024 Travel Season. After roadtripping the Florida Keys and spending the holidays with family, we drove back to Texas before returning to Gardiner for more construction.
We were in Gardiner for just over three weeks. A red fox popped through the property while we were there, which is actually pretty cool. Less cool, the bathroom addition that was supposed to be done before we arrived was delayed. We had guests staying in the Main House, so we moved into the construction zone… but at least we had running water and were officially spending our first night in ‘The Wolf’s Den.’
It’s now the end of January (and the end of this 3-week trip) when I’m writing this post. The delays, the decisions, the travel, and the constant problem-solving… it’s adding up.
❄️ Fun(?) Aside: We got stuck in a snowstorm on our way to Gardiner, with both routes through New Mexico and Oklahoma closed. We ended up parked at a Longhorn Motel in Boise City, eating Subway sandwiches from the Love’s gas station next door, surrounded by fellow stranded travelers. It felt like the setup for a Hallmark rom-com or the pilot episode of a small-town apocalypse.
Our unplanned pitstop in Oklahoma
A reminder to take it one step at a time?
Our first night sleeping in The Wolf’s Den!!!
A gorgeous red fox on our back porch. If you stay with us, be sure to check out our “celeb wall” of wildlife that has walked through the property!!
What they don’t tell you about year two
Although we bought our cabins over a year ago, we’re still in the unglamorous stretch between “we bought it!” and “look what we built.” Most days, we’re the kind of tired that doesn’t go away with a good night’s sleep because it’s not just physical. It’s the kind that comes from holding a big vision and trying your best to move it forward every single day.
Year 1 had plenty of chaos (like 1000lb boulders and unmarked water lines), but it also had adrenaline. Everything was new, every win felt huge, and we were just trying to keep up.
Preparing for our second season somehow feels heavier… in part because now we know what it takes. There’s no blissful ignorance or first-time energy left to cushion the blow. We have the full picture of what it’s like to host guests from 1,200 miles away while in the thick of a renovation, with all its deadlines, dollars, and decisions.
There’s more pressure now, too. Last year’s reviews were incredible, and while we’re so proud of that, the question becomes: Can we keep this going?
The endurance of big dreams
We’re realizing that this is one of those dreams that requires endurance, and endurance means waking up tired and doing the work anyway. It means making decisions with a foggy brain and a stretched budget, watching your timelines slip and your savings shrink, and still finding a way to put one foot in front of the other simply because you believe in where you’re headed.
Every unexpected repair means recalculating which projects can wait.
There’s a constant questioning whether we've bitten off more than we can chew.
A moment of crushing defeat when I broke the bathroom sink trying to fix a simple drain stopper.
A night being woken up by guests without hot water or a working microwave, after spending months preparing for our first experience as hosts.
There have been delays, materials held up, contractors rescheduling, and good work done, but not done perfectly. And it’s in the messy middle of all of this that we’re grateful for the people who offer a much-needed dose of perspective at just the right time.
The people who keep you going
They remind you that this dream was always going to require some grit, a lot of faith, and a dose of figuring it out as you go… but what you’re doing is cool. Really cool.
Sometimes it takes someone who isn’t knee-deep in the chaos with you to say, “You’re doing something brave and I’m proud of you. You should be proud of you, too.” Or, “I know you can’t see it right now, but you’re going to laugh about this later.”
About breaking the sink after your husband specifically cautioned you not to mess with it. (Did I forget to mention that part?) About the sheer number of times you said, “I think we’re almost done,” when you were… not.
They know this isn’t the end of the story, but just a tough moment in the middle of a meaningful chapter. Sometimes, that perspective is all it takes to make the next decision, fix the next problem, or haul the next load to the dump.
It often feels like we’ve stepped into a world we weren’t quite ready for, but it has me wondering if there’s any other way. Maybe. But also maybe: Take the leap. Jump into the deep end. Stash a few life jackets with the people who love you before you do.
As we’re exhausted and one of us is almost (or let’s be honest, already) in tears, we’re grateful for the people who remind us why we’re doing this in the first place. We bought a fixer-upper outside Yellowstone National Park for what it could become, and even when we’re tired, we still see it.
If we can hold on through the tired parts, through the middle that feels like it might never end… we think we’ll come out the other side not just proud of what we built but changed by what it took to build it.
Keep Reading: (#10) Cabin Chronicles: 7 Things To Do When You Have Renovation Fatigue
Or Read Next: (#11) Cabin Chronicles: The $6,000 Shower Debacle
Gorgeous mountain sunsets help, too!
