Steps away from our tiny cabin at True North Basecamp, I stood above a frozen mine-pit lake with my rented fat-tire bike. It was the polar vortex of January 2019, the mercury stubbornly lodged at 10 below zero. Before me, an icy path curved sharply downhill, ending at a narrow wooden plank that spanned the mouth of the rushing Serpent Creek.
My friend Jason whisked by, smoothly rolling down the slope and over the bridge. I gingerly walked my bike down the scree, then slung the frame over my shoulder to cross the open water. If this was typical terrain at Cuyuna Country, my first day at the mountain-biking park was going to be a long one.
But once we were inside the park, Jason and his friend Jared led me onto my first actual trail: the "easy"-rated Drag Line, an immaculately groomed channel in the fresh, deep snow.
We climbed, dipped and twisted on fun but manageable hairpin turns through thick pine woods. My eyes laser-focused on the trail, I felt like I was in a movie where the camera scans over the ground to give the sensation of flying. It was a good enough workout, yet the wide tires on my bike felt like floating on marshmallows. I was instantly immersed in this remote place.
Cuyuna Country State Recreation Area is an anomaly: a state park unit in northern Minnesota devoted to the burgeoning sport of mountain (and fat) biking. Its principal town, Crosby, is also unique in the land of ice fishing and ATVs: an Iron Range community where a genuine bike-based economy has evolved around the park.
True North Basecamp opened on the outskirts of Crosby in 2015, a string of low-frills quarters ingeniously in the style of old mining cabins. When Jason and Jared booked that subzero weekend at the Basecamp, I jumped at the invitation to join in. I returned six months later to experience the opposite weather extreme.
I pulled into Crosby on that cold Friday and immediately headed to Red Raven Bike Cafe, a social hub and the unofficial gateway to the park. A full selection of bikes are available to rent, including Minnesota's own Salsa and Surly brands. The employee easily upsold me to a carbon-fiber Salsa Mukluk with 4-inch studded tires.
Bike obtained, I met up with my hosts at the Basecamp. The sheet metal-clad cabins are modern but spartan, consisting of two bunks, a table and chairs, Wi-Fi, velo-centric wall art, climate control and just enough space for three guys' bikes and gear. The six shacks are lined up above a small mine-pit lake with the industrial-sounding name of Armour #2 Mine.