dreamshark

Well, that part of the trip could have gone better. It turns out that all Camper Cabins are not alike, even in the same campground, and I managed to pick the lemon. Apparently Cabin C1 was some kind of pilot project and is markedly inferior to the standard design they eventually settled on. The large screened porch and substantial front stoop that doubles the living area in the standard Camper Cabin is missing, with just a tiny strip of a screened porch in its place. The main room is about the same as the standard model except without the excellent electrical work - note the ugly on-wall wiring, exposed fuse box, and complete lack of outlets on one side of the cabin. Instead of a ceiling fan there is a rather nice oscillating fan, but with no place to plug it in due to the previously mentioned shortage of outlets. Even the mattresses are different: uncomfortable naked box springs instead of the thick foam mattresses in the newer cabins. The location is also unfortunate - a long walk from the toilets and in full sun most of the day. We made it work with the deployment of 3 extension cords and the emergency extra cushions we always bring for the beds, but it's hard not to feel bitter when you can clearly see that everybody else's cabin is better than yours.

On the plus side, it's nice to have parking right next to the cabin door. And although it was a long and difficult hike to the toilets, involving an unlighted path lined with brambles and burrs, when you got there it was a full campground shower room with flush toilets. For future reference, Cabins C3 and C4 are primo, standard design and located at the other end of the bramble path just across the road from the nice shower room.

Crossposts: https://dreamshark.livejournal.com/574379.html

The Old Timers Cabin is one of the oddball attractions at Itasca that is easy to miss, which is why it was kind of my favorite. Richard saw the exhibit about this at the Interpretive Center and we went looking for it: down the long flight of stairs from Douglas Lodge, past the riverboat mooring, through the bog walk, and up a little rise to this most beautiful point jutting out into Lake Itasca. It doesn't look all that remarkable until you realize that it is a full-size one room cabin built of logs so big that they only needed four courses of them. Holy buckets! (as we say in Minnesota)

Okay, for scale, here I am standing in the doorway. Which is not a super tall doorway, but well over 6 feet high.

And here is the magnificent view from the cabin dooryard. What a shame that nobody ever lived here! Why not, you ask? Because this was the CCC's first "practice" cabin, built with the biggest logs they could lay their hands on. It was never meant for anybody to live in.

Again, scale.

And here is the really excellent explanatory sign, from which we learn many useful things. Yes, this was "the boys'" first practice cabin. The boss wanted to call it The Old Timers Cabin for some reason, but the boys called it The Honeymoon Cabin. One can only imagine why. They built it in the winter because snow sledges were the only way to move those huge logs. And they couldn't just cut them where they stood because the boss WOULDN'T LET THEM CUT DOWN ANY TREES; they had to scrounge around and find deadfall. Boy, did they EVER. They built the cabin first, then jacked it up and added the granite and mortar foundation later.

And back in 1935, the National Park Service produced the most amazing document, modestly titled Park Structures and Facilities. This little book was authored by one Albert H. Good, grand Architect for the State Park Division of the NPS, who combined a profound knowledge of the principles of design and construction with a deeply held philosophy about the state and national park system, a florid writing style, and a soupcon of wit. Seriously, I recommend following that link and perusing this little book. Some of the material is a little dated (oh, if only the 1935 philosophy of bath houses was still in vogue!) but for the most part it is timeless. Since you probably cant read that sign, here is Mr. Good's pithy review of the Old Timer's Cabin:

Only the sworn statement of one who is well informed, to the effect that this cabin was built from wind-falls and not cut timber, permits conservationists to show this cabin here. Almost humorous in its scale, it is far from that as a reminder of magnificent forests all but extinct. As a relic of the days when trees were trees, this cabin can inspire us to firm resolution to permit them to be so again in the long term future. Somewhere between the scale of this log work and the spindling scale of the majority of present day log structures is the happy and satisfying medium that is too infrequently seen. The random informality of the axe-hewn log ends contributes greatly to the naive charm of this little building.

Crossposts: https://dreamshark.livejournal.com/572834.html

Two nights in Bear Paw Cabin #3, a stunningly historic CCC cabin in the heart of Itasca State Park. Itasca offers a bewildering variety of lodging options, but only the Bear Paw Campground has what I was looking for, and you have to book them well in advance. When I made the reservations a month ago this was the only one that still had two contiguous available nights, but it turned out to be a good choice. There are 6 cabins, three at the top of the hill and three more a little lower down and out of direct view. BP2 is only about 50 feet away and shares a parking area, so it is not exactly secluded, but our neighbors were not bothersome. The sturdy front porch looks away from the park driveway and out over Lake Itasca, which is very nice. However you can't see the lake at all due to the disturbingly out of control undergrowth beneath the towering pines. (More on that later and why I found it so disturbing.)

The cabins themselves are magnificently built out of hand-hewn red pine logs and hunks of granite, but clumsily updated. You can't see the little kitchen to the left, but trust me, it is UGLY. Linoleum flooring tacked down with an aluminum strip, cheap wooden cabinets that somehow manage to clash with the lovingly refinished pine logs, and awkward use of space. The on-wall wiring is probably unavoidable, but surely they could have found a way to route the horizontal casing that would be less obtrusive? Maybe even used a color that wasn't glaring white? I appreciate having electricity and water, but it's a little sad that the updating wasn't done with the same loving attention to detail as the original construction, which has held up physically and aesthetically for 85 years and looks prepared to do so for another 85.

Let's take a closer look at those walls, clearly hand-hewn with one of those heavy two-handed wood scrapers yet somehow fitted so closely together that they hardly needed chinking. Admittedly, you can't see the chinking here because someone laid little furring strips over it, but you can see from the outside how closely the logs fit together.

The Civilian Conservation Corps has been kind of a recurring theme through our State Park experiences so far this year, and Itasca really brings that history front and center. Itasca Park was here long before the Great Depression of course, but it was the site of the first and largest CCC camp in Minnesota and "the boys" did a tremendous amount of work here. Since we were sleeping inside their handiwork, I gravitated to that section of the interpretive center and now have a lot of random facts and factoids about the CCC rattling around in my head. Every state in the Union had some CCC presence, but Minnesota is in the top 3 for sheer numbers; well behind California, approximately tied with Oregon. Without the CCC and WPA, the state would have quite a different aspect, I think.

Crossposts: https://dreamshark.livejournal.com/571893.html

This is part of an ongoing series of posts documenting exploration of the Minnesota State Park system in the summer of 2021, but this one is not so much a review of a specific park as a report on Camper Cabins. This is a relatively new type of lodging that the DNR is apparently in the process of adding to existing state parks as they get the money. Unlike the other eccentric and unpredictable park lodging options, these are pretty much standardized. I'm posting this mostly for my own reference, but it might be of interest to others who are actively using the state parks this year.

Camper Cabins are, in the words of the DNR, "rustic, one-room, 12 by 16 foot wooden cabins containing a table, benches, and wooden bunkbeds with mattresses. Most cabins have a screened porch, heat, and electricity. All cabins have a picnic table, fire ring, and grill for outdoor cooking." They DO NOT have indoor plumbing. They always have a pit toilet (typically shared with a handful of other camper cabins) and are usually adjacent to a campground with flush toilets. This one is in Lake Carlos State Park and appears to be quite new. Due to the lack of bathroom and kitchen, it's not quite like staying in an actual cabin, but we found it surprisingly comfortable. The other major deficiency is the near complete absence of furniture, but if you know about that you can bring what you need.

This is the main room, about equally divided between beds and living space. Besides the bunk beds, the furniture consists only of a pine table and two movable matching benches. There's an overhead ceiling fan light, a very bright light hanging over the table, and a ton of electric outlets. The mattresses (at least in this relatively new cabin) are surprisingly comfortable hunks of solid foam encased in a water-proof nylon shell. There are 4 or 5 hooks on the walls which is nice, but more hooks would have been very welcome since there is no place else to stash clothing.

I gather that a few of the older camper cabins do not have the screen porch, which is something to be aware of. This porch is GREAT, and literally doubles the living space. There's an overhead light and electrical outlets out here, so it is a fully functional second room. However, it has not one stick of furniture in it, not even a wooden bench! This strikes me as odd. I was not expecting a fully furnished 2-room suite, but a few benches or wooden chairs doesn't seem like too much to ask. A few camp chairs, a folding table, and a small electric fan turn the porch into a living room. I'm especially glad we brought the table and big thermos of ice water. The other side of the porch got used for storage of the cooler, swim gear, and other stuff that didn't need to be in the main cabin all the time.

This is the outside of the Eagle Aerie Camper Cabin, which turned out to be the best of the group of 4. It's close to the shared parking area but up on a slight rise, which gives it way more privacy, and it's well shaded. It's also quite close to the pit toilet, which I did not take a picture of. This probably varies with the age of the installation, but this particular outhouse was surprisingly odorless, airy, and clean. There were flush toilets over in the campground, but far enough away that we never used them.

Probably the biggest variable in desirability of a particular cabin (and the hardest to deduce when making a reservation) is the picnic table. Ours was great - totally shaded by a mature oak and located behind the cabin at the edge of the campground, making it totally secluded. We brought along a portable charcoal grill and a Coleman camp stove, which turned the picnic area into a decent outdoor kitchen. Of course, how well that works is totally dependent on the weather. If it had been rainy, our experience with this cabin would have been entirely different.

WHAT TO BRING
These things are, IMHO, indispensable to get optimum use out of a camper cabin.

Electric fans. The ceiling fan works pretty well, but nothing takes the edge off heat and humidity like a fan blowing directly onto your chair or bed. 9" box fans sit nicely on window sills. Next time we are also bringing a tall tower fan to put in the corner where it can oscillate over the entire room.
Large water thermos full of ice. ESSENTIAL. So glad we brought it
Water bucket with a lid for fetching more water from campground spigots (we didn't have that, wished we did)
Two full sets of sheets so each of you can have your own bed. I'm sure it's possible for two people to sleep on one of those claustrophobic bottom bunks, but we didn't want to try it.
At least 4 pillows plus those striped foam camping cushions I made. If all the mattresses are as comfortable as the ones at Lake Carlos, this is overkill, but we have high bed comfort needs due to our creaky old carcasses.
Folding chairs or camp chairs for porch furniture
Small folding tables! We had two and could have used more. My 22" wide camp table just fit between the two bunkbeds to make a bedside table. We put the big thermos on the white table to make a water station on the screen porch, which was great.
Milk boxes are furniture too! We used them for suitcase racks.
Actual suitcase racks. Richard can't pick things up off the floor, so this is more than just a convenience for him. I have ordered a couple of small suitcase racks at his request and we'll take those next time
Portable propane stove. Nobody wants to light a campfire just to have hot coffee in the morning.
Portable charcoal grill. Really, you can cook anything over that propane stove. And you can always use the awkward firepit-with-grill arrangement provided by the park for grilling, but a charcoal grill is so much easier
Kitchen kit: 3 saucepans, serving spoon, spatula, hot pads, serving plate, salad bowl, knives, cutting board
Grilling stuff: large fork, tongs, skewers for vegetables, s'mores kit
Dining kit: coffee mugs, silverware, full-size plates, small plates or bowls, water cups or water bottles

Crossposts: https://dreamshark.livejournal.com/569662.html

Now that I have a State Park Passport, I am in "Gotta catch 'em all" mode. Note that a Park Passport is the opposite of a real passport, which allows you to visit places. This type of "passport" COMPELS you to visit them.

This two-day trip was mostly a lodging reconnaissance expedition. It turns out that a very small number of Minnesota State Parks have actual full-service cabins for rent (i.e., little houses with indoor plumbing), and an even smaller number have cabins sized for 2 people. Savanna Portage is one of them. Garni Guesthouse used to belong to the Garni family until the park got it away from them in 1992 and decided to keep it around to rent to tourists. At $120 it's an amazing deal: a fully functional small house with full kitchen and bath, heat, and a nicely furnished great room. It's completely isolated on a peninsula on Lake Savanna with its own boat dock, complete with rowboat.

Savanna Portage is, unfortunately, neither the most interesting nor the most scenic park in the Minnesota Park System, but it sure has a great 4-season guest house. I'll bet it's a great place for stargazing when the air isn't full of smoke.

Here's the boat dock, complete with rowboat. Richard really wanted to try it out, but his mobility is limited and he decided it just looked too hard to get in and out of the thing. If the weather had been more agreeable we might have worked harder at it.

Strictly speaking, there was nothing wrong with the weather, which should have been a lovely sunny summer's day. Unfortunately, we chose to drive 150 miles due north into the most severe Air Quality Alert ever recorded in Minnesota, due to Canadian wildfires. Did you know there was a Level Purple? Apparently that's the level beyond Red. So instead of a cheery blue, this is what the sky looked like over the Garni boat dock. And that was during one of the better moments when you could actually see where the sun was and I briefly believed that it was starting to clear up.

The other objective of this trip was extending my mostly futile quest to find good swimming lakes at Minnesota State Parks. This one wasn't too bad. I'd give it a B or B+. The beachside picnic area is lovely, with large pines, shady benches, and a handsome WPA-built restroom building. No changing rooms, but changing in the restroom isn't too bad. But the official swim area is the usual toddler wading pool: small, sandy, and shallow. On the plus side, Loon Lake is a small lake with no motor boats (just loons), so you can venture out of the pathetic little swim area into deeper water without fear of being decapitated. The small sandy beach extends into the water for an easy entry. The water was brown, but actually very clean. I think the brown color was from the pine needles. I splashed around on my inflatable alligator for a while, then beached it and went out past the buoys to swim some laps. And the loons put on a bit of a show, hooting and laughing maniacally and then doing that dramatic water takeoff that makes them seem about 3 times bigger than they are. Richard sat on that pretty shady bench and read while I played in the water. It was a nice afternoon expedition.

Back in the cabin, Richard found something really fun to peruse, and entertained me with juicy historical tidbits while I played solitaire on my phone.

This is exactly the sort of reading matter I love to find in a vacation house: a meticulously researched self-published book about a local historical topic that almost nobody cares about except the author. This one starts with the melting of the glaciers, works its way forward into the Voyageur era, and lingers lovingly on the horrors of portaging for days through a muskeg swamp. I love that Mr. Greer started his research back in the 1940's by interviewing all the old-timers in the area, one of whom recalled the location of the old original portage path, which had by that time largely disappeared into the bog. If I remember correctly, it was unearthed by volunteers, who then proceeded to reenact the portage. Just once, I think. It was apparently far too miserable an experience to lead to a whole reenactment tradition.

Crossposts: https://dreamshark.livejournal.com/569226.html

Keep reading to find the Adventure down near the bottom. First we will muse on government work programs and their lasting effects on American parks.

I have to wonder what the Minnesota Park systems would have been like without the CCC and the WPA. I love these old buildings, built in the 30's and early 40's and lovingly preserved. Many state parks have Historic Lodges from that era, but only a few have CCC cabins like the one we stayed in. These are not the semi-civilized Camper Cabins that have been springing up lately in the Minnesota State Parks - these are the real thing - cabins WITH INDOOR PLUMBING. There are 5 of them at the shady end of the Riverview Campground, this 3-plex and a nearby duplex. These are the doorways to adjacent cabins C and D. Cabin E has its own more private entrance off to the right. But the shared entry to Cabin D turned out to be a lifesaver for us (keep reading...)

Inside, the cabins are all pine everywhere: floors, ceiling, walls, and furniture. There's a reasonably comfortable double bed, a sturdy pine table and chairs, and even a closet with suitcase rack. You have to bring your own bedding and towels, but most everything else is provided. Except a fan. The windows open for ventilation, but without a fan to circulate the air it can get hot and stuffy. And like every other hotel room in the world, there is a nice sized closet with only 4 hangers. So if you stay in one of these, bring a fan and hangers. The less said about the window coverings the better. Let's just say that, wonderful as these little cabins are, there is room for improvement here.

But here's where these cabins outshine every other State Park in the state except some of the Itasca campgrounds (and who can compete with Itasca, the jewel of the park system?). A half bath and a FULL KITCHEN, stocked with pots and pans and dinnerware and even a coffeepot and toaster. This is living. $95/night. For only $70 for the upgrade, why would anyone sleep in a tent?

And after indoor plumbing, there's location location location. In this case, that is way off on the shady side of a classic oak savanna with at least an acre or two of grass separating the cabins from the hoi poloi in the not so shady side of the campground. Here's our private picnic table with Cabins A/B in the background. Cabin A is the one I'd choose next time, having only one immediate neighbor and more shade. But they are all great.

The cabins do have one more weak point, however, at least if you are prone to lose your focus now and then. The cheap little spring locks lock behind you like a hotel room door, and there is only one key. It was my job to keep track of the key, so each time I reenabled the door lock I recited to myself, "I am locking the door now. Is the key in my pocket? Yes it is. Okay, then." Until the very last night, when spiderplanet stopped by to see what the cabin looked like. Distracted by having company, I didn't do my little ritual and... you guessed it. Locked myself out. By the time I realized that we were outside and the key was safely hanging on a hook inside, it was 10:30 pm and the three RV couples had gone off to the Horse Camp a million miles away on the other side of this huge park, and there we were, alone in the dark. FORTUNATELY I had talked arkuat and pameladean into renting Cabin D, and they were still awake. So we routed them out, not sure what they could do that we couldn't, but just feeling like we had no chance without friends. My only real plan was to see if there was an emergency number posted inside the cabins. And yes, there was such a number! And miraculously, my phone was still eking out one bar of service, so I called it. Only to find that the number had been disconnected. Not just nobody answering the supposedly 24 hour number, mind you - the number was gone. Thanks a lot, underfunded Park Service.

Fortunately, these little cabins are not the most secure structures in the world, and it turned out to be pretty easy to break in through the windows. The outer glass windows were mostly open (and even if they weren't the latches don't really work on them, so...). The inner screens do have latches, but my inattentiveness had fortunately extended to failing to latch one of the screens securely, so we didn't have to cut the screen. And since we had neighbors with furniture we didn't have to haul one of the incredibly heavy picnic tables over to the window. The indefatigable arkuat volunteered not only a chair but his own services as a burglar to climb up and dive through the window, and voila! We were saved. All thanks to the brave arkuat !

Okay, on to the last building - the Historic Lodge - also built by the CCC out of native limestone and huge hunks of pine. Even the original tables and chairs are still in use, showing no signs of ever wearing out. It's a little hard to see in this picture, but the legs of these pieces of furniture are made of the same giant tree trunks as the overhead beams. This fine building has lights and restrooms and is open round the clock. We met there for gaming on Saturday.