CUYUNA COUNTRY STATE RECREATION AREA – Seated at a table inside a fabric-walled yurt, my bare feet on a cool wooden floor, I listened to a trio of mountain bikers pass through the deep forest outside my door. Their bicycles made a distinctive mechanical whirring punctuated by chain slaps and short, sharp brake squeals, a chorus of alien noises rising into the pine boughs. The cyclists grew louder as they approached. I could hear them grunt with effort, and then just as quickly the noise dimmed as the group navigated a red-dirt trail through stands of pine, paper birch and basswood.
The bikers were soon gone, and quiet descended on my camp. Diffuse sunlight poured through a clear plastic dome at the yurt's peak, illuminating the single, circular room my family of four was calling home for a weekend at Cuyuna Country State Recreation Area near Brainerd. The yurt was a new twist on a favorite family camping spot. We'd been to Cuyuna many times before, usually staying at the park's first-come-first-served Portsmouth campground or at a friend's cabin nearby. But last year the Minnesota Department of Natural Resources installed yurts at Cuyuna and Afton and Glendalough state parks as an effort to draw more people. As soon as I heard of the yurts' pending arrival, I made plans to stay in one with my wife and two sons, ages 10 and 7. Would it work for a family of four?
Not content to experiment with just my own family's happiness, I invited two other families to join us, our three tribes filling the three yurts the DNR put up on a hillside overlooking Yawkey Mine Lake within the Cuyuna Range. Not everyone planned to mountain bike, one of the park's main activities, and we were a fairly wide age range, from 7 years old to just a tad older than 50. In the days leading up to the trip I considered some of the worst-case scenarios: The weather could turn foul and trap us indoors; the four-season yurts could prove hot and unbearable in mid-July; or, perhaps worst of all, boredom might set in among the nonbiking crowd as our camping weekend plodded on.
My oldest son was the first to correct me.
"We're not camping, Dad. We're yurting," he informed me soon after we arrived.
The distinction proved to be a real one, and my initial worries gave way as we became accustomed to this new experience.
Initial impressions
Nervous that something would go wrong early on, I made sure that we arrived at Cuyuna before the others. The Yawkey Mine Unit is a section of the park just north of Crosby. It's a mile or so down a gravel road to a parking lot near the yurts. A path open only to foot traffic, mountain bikes or DNR vehicles leads from the parking lot to the yurts. Hauling our gear from the parking lot was made easier thanks to a rubber-wheeled cart we found stashed in each yurt.
The first thing I noticed about the yurt upon entering was the heat. Our unit had windows, but they were all closed. The clear plastic dome on the yurt's top, meanwhile, allowed enough passive solar energy to pour into the room that the temperature rose much higher than the outside air, not unlike a car parked with the windows rolled up. I slid open the windows, mindful that the provided screens would keep out bugs, and cranked open the dome using a long handle that hung near the front door. The heat rose through the dome and out of the yurt as fresh air came in through the opened windows. It was soon a comfortable temperature inside, and I made the same adjustment to the other two yurts before others arrived.