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• #FLASHFROZEN EMBER FULL#

Wild River has several miles of cross-country ski and snowshoe trails. We walked along the bank until we saw clouds of vapor rising from a narrow break in the ice, then turned back and strapped into our skis.

The temperature had dropped into double-digits below zero, so we bundled up before hiking down to the frozen riverbank. Next morning, the violent screech of a barred owl just outside our window shook us out of bed. Inside, we turned up the thermostat on the electric baseboard heat and slipped into our sleeping bags, which we laid out on firm foam mattresses provided with each bunk.

#FLASHFROZEN EMBER FULL#

We emerged a few minutes later into a snow-covered clearing, and although we could see a halo of light in the sky - a reminder of just how close we were to city life - the sky was full of stars.īack at the cabin we warmed up with a cup of tea made with the help of a portable camp stove we'd set up on the porch. It was already minus-7 degrees as the road led us into the dark woods. The bright sky and outlines of bare trees showed through puffs of vaporized breath and rising sparks.Īfter the flames burned down to a smoldering pile of tangerine embers, we headed for a walk down the snow-covered main road through the park. The fresh snow that sparkled in the moonlight was too dazzling to ignore, so we stayed outside and huddled around the fire as long as we could. I hurried to unpack the car and then scraped snow from the fire pit, where the wood I'd bought from Rod's Country Corner in nearby Almelund was soon burning bright. We arrived at Wild River after the park office had closed, but our one-room cabin, about the size of a single-car garage, was awaiting us with the heat on and a porch light glowing. The bare-bones units - designed for people who want the experience of being close to nature, but don't want to pitch a tent or sleep on the ground - come cheap, too. Minnesota's state parks have a total of 70 such camper cabins, so named because, without bathrooms or kitchens, they are only one step more civilized than tent camping. I drove an hour north of the Twin Cities to Wild River State Park, where a friend and I checked into a camper cabin, one of six perched along a wooded bluff overlooking the St.

I had decided to take a last-minute trip to the woods in search of snow and solitude. Two big bundles of firewood seemed like overkill for just one night in the woods, but by the time I'd settled into a warm spot by the fire, the flames had begun to die, and I was regretting that I hadn't bought more.