Cabin Country: A work in progress

Back in the '90s my family decided to find a remote piece of backcountry and build a log cabin. My wife and I both grew up with love and respect for the unspoiled wilderness. My parents had a small cottage on a lake near Traverse City, Mich. My most treasured childhood memories are from long summer days at the cabin, where we would catch bluegills and painted turtles from an old steel rowboat.

My wife, Molly, spent part of her youth living in L'Anse in Michigan's Upper Peninsula. She knew exactly what I was talking about when I told her I wanted to find a remote location deep in the wilderness with water and rock outcroppings. I wanted to be as far from electricity and civilization as possible, yet still be in Michigan. We found our dream location in eastern Baraga County, about 1 ½ hours northwest of Ishpeming by car. Our property is very rocky and has a beautiful little spring-fed lake. There is even a cliff along one stretch of shoreline.

After a few years of camping there and dreaming of building a cabin, I designed the structure, ordered the logs and started construction. We purchased cabin logs from an outfit in Tennessee. With great effort and much damage to my trucks and trailers, we managed to haul the logs and everything else down rough and sometimes muddy logging trails to the campsite. Some of the logs were a full 30 feet long. I had to be creative about getting them up and down the steep hills, around sharp curves, and through creek beds without damaging anything.

With much effort and labor of love and determination, we now have a cabin far enough along that we can stay in it. At the end of the summer of 2013, we finally hauled away the camper trailer. Construction is an ongoing effort. With only a couple weeks per year to work on the place, I foresee several more years before completion. We still want to build a woodshed and a dock.

I've been able to save time by making some of the components at home, hauling them up to the campsite and assembling them there. I built an outhouse in sections over the winter. After the long and slow spring thaw, we hauled the pieces to the site and assembled them like a puzzle. I suspended the roof from a chain stretched between two large trees, using a winch to lift it off the trailer. I plumbed down and dug the hole. My son-in-law helped with the floor and walls. Then we lowered the roof and attached it directly to the walls. The outhouse was ready by the end of the day.

There isn't a day that goes by when I don't think about our camp. In the last five years, I have had a special campout every summer with my grandson. We call it "Bub's Camp." A cabin isn't a cabin until it smells like wood smoke, pancakes and fresh coffee. We're among the lucky ones.

RAY FRANKS, BEULAH, MICHIGAN

TELL US about your hideout, be it a lakeside lodge or a primitive fire pit. Email your story along with photos to cabins@startribune.com or submit online at www.startribune.com/hideouts. Don't forget your name, city of residence and the general vicinity of your cabin or campsite.