After we explored Winter Crest Lights (see my previous post, The Snow Must Go On: Cait & Huck’s Pre-Holiday Winter Escapade), Huck and I decided that, as seasoned adventurers of Second Life, we’d earned ourselves a relaxing weekend retreat. Naturally, we chose to return to the resort that had already stolen our hearts,  this time not as mere visitors, but as full-blown mountain cabin residents.

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Our temporary home sat high upon a snowy mountain, complete with a steaming hot tub, deck chairs for the brave (or frost-immune), and a living room straight out of a luxury ski-resort brochure, with a comfy sofa and fireplace. There was even a Dutchie kitchen,  elegant, functional, and entirely untroubled by any signs of actual cooking, and a dining area.

Upstairs, a cosy vide overlooked the lounge below, with one double bed and a luxury bathroom. Naturally, I claimed the bedroom while Huck gallantly volunteered (was told) to sleep on the couch. It’s all about chivalry and lumbar support.

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The first night, we had dinner at the Main Lodge, which was nothing short of five-star cuisine. The restaurant shimmered under the glow of fairy lights and an early Christmas tree, and the view was magnificent. Huck ordered the chicken, and I chose the fish. One second later, Huck’s culinary FOMO struck, and he replaced his chicken with fish. The dessert was a delicious cheesecake. 

We then ascended back (in style) via the chairlift, which luckily delivered us back near our cabin, because walking uphill through snow is for NPCs.

The next morning, bright and overly ambitious, we decided to go skiing. Huck shot off the slopes like an Olympic champion, while I stood heroically still, locked in an epic battle with my ski boots. By the time I reached him, half-frozen and muttering about “hover heights and missing feet,” it was time for the Arctic Maze.

Ah, the Arctic Maze, a seemingly innocent tangle of snow walls designed, I now suspect, by someone with a personal vendetta against couples. Halfway in, Huck confidently announced, “Left is the way!” while I, guided by logic and intuition, went right. Two minutes later, I triumphantly emerged from the maze, glowing with victory and mild smugness.

Ten minutes passed. Then twenty. At the thirty-minute mark, I began to imagine Huck still wandering the icy corridors, calling for help, sustained only by snowflakes and misplaced pride. Eventually, I did the sensible thing: teleported back to our cabin, settled with wine, cheese and chocolate cake.
An hour later, Huck finally stumbled in, somewhat frostbitten, claiming he’d almost solved it. I nodded sympathetically, feeling only slightly guilty that I’d used the time to catch up on group notices.

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After thawing by the fire (and re-evaluating our relationship with mazes), we embarked on a scenic horseback ride. The trail is gorgeous. The horses, however, had other ideas. Mine wandered off, Huck offered me a lift, and his horse, apparently offended, threw us both off like two overly confident wannabee cowboys who had no business sitting on a horse.

We spent the evening back at the cabin, soaking in the hot tub, chatting deeply about the meaning of life. By which I mean: I battled level 732 in Candy Crush while Huck took “important business calls.” Pure relaxation, Second Life style.

Final Snowflake Rating: ❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️/5
Winter Crest Lights is the ultimate winter destination, with luxurious cabins, endless activities, and a chairlift that saves friendships. We’ll absolutely be back… just maybe with separate maze maps next time.

Slurl to Winter Crest Lights