The idea of the summer cabin, the lake house, the woods retreat, the stuga, is buried deep in the psyche of the state's culture. Minnesota was settled by (and is still inhabited by) a couple of million Norwegians and the better part of a million Swedes for whom the stuga is not an option but a religion.
~ Bill Holm, Cabins of Minnesota

In 1935, my grandfather (half Norwegian/half Swedish) had an itch to spend time on a lake and discovered a wild piece of lakeshore just north of Nisswa. The property owner, Elmer Olson, was a taciturn, stubborn Scandinavian farmer and it took my grandfather several years to woo Mr. Olson into selling a chunk. They ultimately agreed on a seven-acre parcel on the north side of the lake with about 1,000 feet of shoreline.

Five years later when my grandfather was 47, he and my grandmother (half Swedish) built a simple, 24' x 36' log-sided cabin. The floors were pine-planked and the interior walls were covered in wide, knotty pine paneling. Real, wooden mullions divided each of the large windows into six panes and those windows constituted most of the south wall facing the lake.

My parents spent many nights dancing at the original Bar Harbor on Gull Lake while dating and later honeymooned at the cabin. When I was a child, my family lived there in the summers along with my aunt, uncle and cousins.

My grandfather had an elaborate shop in the boathouse down by the beach where he spent hours sawing and hammering and painting. He fashioned a nifty log ladder for us kids to climb into the sleeping loft. He devised the infamous "Kiddie Bar" by attaching a long piece of pine directly to the wall and drilling round holes at each grandchild's assigned place. Our plastic milk glasses fit snugly down into the holes which rendered them spill-proof, a wonderful reprieve for my long-suffering grandmother, mother and aunt. One summer he was on a sign-making binge and made them for everything, even "The Biffy."

The favorite of my grandfather's projects, though, was the dining area table. Built of wide pine planks, he sized it to be at exact window height and widow width. The table was then pushed directly against the wall so all could see out to the lake.

Since those idyllic summer days, I continue to feel most at home in a simple cabin on a lake with a dining table pushed up by the windows. Over the years I've stayed on many lakes around Minnesota–White Iron, Gunflint, Green, Lake of the Woods, Gull, Bay, White Bear, Winnibigoshish, Leech, Ida and Burntside.

Providentially after several years of searching, my husband and I found the perfect small, rustic cabin on a lake in Hubbard County. A big window faced west toward the lake and my first act as cabin-owner was to place our dining table directly under the window. I was 47.

There's something special about cabins …a cabin holds a treasury of life's most meaningful mementos. Like a living scrapbook, cabins evoke feelings and events that no photograph could capture...The traditional cabin connects us to our timeless cultural roots.
~ Dale Mulfinger, The Cabin