Backcountry Mystic
-
Meet Owen Blackthorn: Backcountry Mystic HVAC Tech, and Family Fixer
Some people ease into your life with a polite knock and a thank-you-for-having-us fruit basket. Owen Blackthorn came back into mine wielding a crowbar and a wet-vac. That’s how he became part of Backcountry Mystic, whether he meant to or not. To be fair, he wasn’t exactly planning to move in. Not at first. But if you’ve ever had to help your adult son and his long-time partner evacuate their mold-riddled basement apartment after a freak flood turned their IKEA futon into a floating sponge, you know how these things escalate. One minute you’re offering them a guest room “just for a week,” and the next, you’re stepping over his…
-
🥁 Celtic Drum Making, Spiritual Meaning, and What the Land Taught Me About Listening
I invited an Anishinaabe woman to Backcountry Mystic to teach us how to make drums—and for once, nobody rolled their eyes. Not even Maris. Which is good, because I’m weirdly excited. Not Etsy-shopping excited. Not “look what I impulse-bought during a full moon” excited. I mean bone-deep, slightly-nervous, spiritual-awakening excited. Like something old and buried in me just perked up and whispered, Finally. We’re all standing around the café’s long table—me, Isaac, a few brave customers, Nova (who’s already named her future drum “Thunderpants”), and even Nate, who’s mostly here for the snacks. The hide soaking in the tubs smells vaguely like wet barn and possibility. I keep telling myself…
-
Meet Calliope: Glitter, Google Docs, and the Witch Label I Didn’t Ask For
She showed up in sequins and said the word “brand strategy” before I’d had coffee. Meet Calliope, the digital whirlwind behind Backcountry Mystic’s chaotic glow-up—and the woman trying to convince me I’m a witch.
-
Introducing Maris Blackthorn – The Skeptic in the Backcountry Mystic Family
At some point, it occurred to me that if I’m going to drag you all through the chaos of Backcountry Mystic—our accidental spiritual B&B turned metaphysical sideshow—you might as well meet the cast of characters I call family. Consider this a proper introduction to the people behind the sarcastic blog posts, mysterious wind chimes, and caffeine-fueled existential breakthroughs. First up: my eldest. The grounded one. The skeptic. The spreadsheet-wielding voice of reason in our cosmic soap opera. Introducing Maris Blackthorn. If you ever want to feel like your entire life is one long cautionary tale, try raising a daughter who becomes a finance executive. Maris is the kind of woman…
-
So Apparently, We Do Squirrel Exorcisms Now
I never set out to perform a squirrel exorcism. That’s not a service we offer. We do sell ethically sourced herbs, locally roasted coffee, and the occasional self-deprecating sticker —but nothing in the official Backcountry Mystic business plan includes rodent-based spiritual intervention. And yet, if you’re a regular around here, you won’t be surprised. Things rarely go to plan. Especially when Nate gets involved. Before I walk you through how we became the unofficial squirrel shamans of BriarVeil, I should explain how the day started. It was supposed to be calm. Quiet. Productive. I had blocked out the morning for inventory updates and, if the stars aligned, a coffee alone…
-
Backcountry Mystic’s Soulful Chef: Isaac Nodin
Meet Isaac Nodin, the bold and grounded Anishinaabe chef who co-founded Backcountry Mystic Café. Learn how he partnered with Everlie, what drives him, and how he brings spiritual integrity (and excellent tea) to BriarVeil.
-
Married to a Mystic: One Man’s Survival Guide to Rituals, Chaos, and Cursed Espresso Machines
He doesn’t meditate. He thinks tarot cards are “fortune flashcards.” And yet—he’s the reason Backcountry Mystic exists. Meet Nate: my fast-talking, snack-carrying, chaos-compatible husband who rebuilt our metaphysical shop without ever once checking his moon sign. Being married to a mystic wasn’t on his vision board, but somehow, he makes it work—with sarcasm, duct tape, and an uncanny ability to fix things I’ve spiritually broken.
-
The Wind Chime Wasn’t My First Choice (But Neither Was Starting Over)
I didn’t choose the rainbow agate wind chime. It chose me—by falling off a clearance shelf and hitting me in the shoulder. Much like this whole "fresh start" in BriarVeil, it wasn’t part of the plan. But just because something isn’t what you wanted doesn’t mean it won’t work—loudly, awkwardly, and with just enough spiritual side-eye to keep you on your toes. Starting over isn’t clean or curated—it’s chaotic, smoke-scented, and occasionally haunted. But sometimes, the wrong wind chime turns out to be exactly the right warning bell.
-
Cryptid Registration Now Open: Because Apparently We’re Doing That Now
Backcountry Mystic is now accepting official(ish) cryptid sightings. Whether you spotted a mossy river goblin or just forgot your glasses again, pick up a form, sketch your suspicious creature, and claim your place on the Cryptid Leaderboard. Because why just witness weirdness when you can document it?
