There are 22 doors at the cabin. Most are locked, some by padlocks—the original locks rendered useless by lost keys or tumblers jiggled loose long ago.
My father always insisted on keeping our cabin unlocked. He reasoned that it was better to replace whatever someone may want from inside rather than replace a window.
There is little of value behind the locked doors at the cabin. And anyone foolish enough to make the trek past the neighbors, through the gates and by my Uncle Steve would face the disappointment of a lifetime when they reached the doors. Unless, like me, they just wanted to spend all day capturing the old doors in picture frames.