Between Two Pines
The story of a 100-year-old cabin tucked away in the Northwoods.
North Central Minnesota. Once home to the glacially receded Lake Agassiz, it now hosts millions of acres of some of the state’s most remote lakes, rivers, forests, bogs, and rock outcrops, strong enough to endure the receding ice. The distant forests that succeeded Lake Agassiz, expanding as far as you can see, appealed largely to newcomers and loggers at the turn of the century. Now, embedded in the history of northern Minnesota, logging trails, small towns, and the scattered forests are the remains of this historic landscape.
In the heart of this wilderness, off the beaten down remains of an old logging road lies the finest cabin anyone will ever come across located between two pines. Upon first impressions the cabin does not seem like much, in fact, it is almost falling over. The cabin, or more commonly known as the deer shack to its residents, originated by the loggers of the area as a bunkhouse to keep them from the harsh weather year-round. Over 100 years old, it sits proudly at 15x20ft with a hard lean to the west and a cozy home to the occasional mice and squirrels.
For most, this cabin wouldn’t be considered the finest by a long shot, but there is a hidden beauty to a cabin in the Northwoods that cannot be seen by outward appearances alone. It is the spiritual feeling one gets being removed from the chaos of life spent with close family, friends, and brought back to the bare essentials of life. You see, a scheduled life doesn’t exist in the Northwoods. If you are hungry, you eat. If you are tired, you sleep. You are not conformed to the schedules of life back home, but instead, you have the freedom to do as you please, when you please. A way of life that has become so foreign to many people, but is deeply rooted in our past.
Like all Northwoods cabins, there is a story. A long lineage of family history about the genesis of the cabins purchase or build. The deer shack for our family was built over 100 years ago by the original lumberjacks of the area with products harvested from the local forest. It wasn’t until later that it was drug out to its current location in the midst of winter on skis. For us, my grandpa and his brothers began the family lineage when he came to this spot as a teenager with his brothers to escape the city and head to the Northwoods to hunt. Now on its third generation, and with over 60 years of traditions and memories built, it serves as a rendezvous to reconnect with each other, the natural world around us, and the simplicity of life as it should be.
Since a young age, I have been fortunate enough to spend more and more time in the Northwoods at our cabin throughout all the seasons of the year. A cabin, though small in size, has played a big role in the making of family traditions we all know and love, as well as the center point for where my love of the outdoors was started. The small build of the cabin quickly gave me perspective towards the minimalistic approach to what is necessary for life. Having a few bunk beds, a table, stove, and outhouse, the cabin is stripped to the bare essentials, something we wouldn’t want to have any other way.
The drive from our house to the deer shack is due north for four hours. Though the drive seemed like an eternity when I was younger, the tradeoff for the drive has quickly been outweighed. I can distinctly remember as a kid waiting patiently for the opportunity to make the trip north for a weekend hunting Ruffed Grouse. The excitement built up before leaving often left me sleepless the night before and I am sure my dad was tired of me waking him up throughout the night just to see if we could leave yet. However, my dad knew of this excitement as he had done the same when he was younger and began making the journey north with my grandpa.
The lack of sleep the night before often allowed me to sleep soundly and through the four-hour drive, just in time to wake up upon our arrival at the shack. Like an old friend you see for the first time in a while, things seem to pick up just where you left off the last time you were there. A familiar routine of unloading the food, starting the stove, and laying out our sleeping bags all had to be done before setting out on our adventures. Would we travel north to the old abandoned railroad grade, east to Wagner’s old place, or make our way south to the duck pond? The options were endless, but the adventures are always great. A seemingly vast landscape filled with forests, wilderness pools, and streams to explore and not enough time to do so.
During our walks in the fall, the direction of travel always seems to be guided by first revisiting the honey holes where we had found coveys of Ruffed Grouse or Woodcock the year prior, before venturing into new areas to hunt. However, much of the time we walk through the woods, there is no predetermined destination, but rather an opportunity to explore and see new areas of the forest. Sometimes in search of game, other times for no reason other than being immersed in the tranquility of the landscape.
It seems like it would be an injustice not to write about this incredible place and the landscape that surrounds it. In my short 24 years of life, I have been fortunate and blessed to have traveled from the barren lands of the high Arctic to the windswept peaks of Patagonia, and many places in between. Still, to me, no place compares to the Northwoods, the experiences I’ve had within it, and the memories to be made in the future. A fragile landscape, where many places remain as untouched and wild as they have been for thousands of years.
Those who have visited the deer shack, or have a cabin of their own, have seen the tradition, beauty, and freedom a cabin in the Northwoods can bring. A tranquil place full of wonderful memories, adventures and so much more. All of which for me became because of the cabin between two pines.
