A Proper Sauna
Wood—often cedar, a touch of smoke, and a hint of must: that’s the smell of a proper sauna. Every one is a positive for humanity, but the best saunas are ancient, tiny stand-alone buildings the size of a shed or small garage; they have a little changing room with colorful old rag rugs covering a cement floor, thin embroidered curtains over small windows, and wooden hooks at eye level holding faded beach towels, random swimwear, and the odd pair of goggles.
The perfect saunas are within fifty yards of a cold body of water—Lake Superior being the ultimate.
And because people are running between the lake and the hot wooden benches, a great sauna has a shallow bucket near the door with water scooped directly from the lake, used to quickly dip the feet clean before entering, a thin layer of sand settled at the bottom and a bit of grass floating at the top.
The Keweenaw is loaded with perfect saunas.
I’ve been fortunate enough since childhood to utilize many of them during Michigan’s short but epic summers.
A quick but very important note: the proper pronunciation is “sow-na” and not “saw-na.” Because the word comes from Finland, and that’s how they say it.
That pronunciation and the saunas themselves came to the Keweenaw Peninsula of Michigan in the late nineteenth century as immigrants from across Europe flooded the area for abundant copper mining jobs.
Finns are sauna fiends, and their country has more saunas per capita than any other with only five million people and over two million saunas. I don’t think we track that data in America state or county-wide, but I’d be more than willing to wager my savings that Keweenaw and Houghton counties top the list. They’re the only counties where people with Finnish ancestry are the largest group.
Over a century later, sauna culture is still an integral part of Upper Michigan living, and almost everyone has a sauna in their basement, regardless of where their family came from.
They’re completely woven into our daily lives and a key tool in getting through the grueling winters when temperatures average 15F (-9.4C) and we’re getting pounded with 300 inches (760cm) of snow.
That cold will burrow deep in the bones after you’ve spent an hour watching hockey at one of the ancient ice rinks, hugging yourself and rocking back and forth to keep blood flowing, teeth-rattling and toes numb despite the layers of clothing and two pairs of wool socks. By far the best remedy is to rush home, slam the door, shiver off the snow, shake away the layers of winter wear, and slip into an already hot sauna.
It’s how locals stay sane in those dark frigid months, but saunas are an essential part of summer here as well.
There are very few places on the planet where “sauna’s hot” text messages are sent with such frequency and received with the full understanding of the invitation to sit in a small cedar-clad room, a scalding hot stone-covered stove in the corner, a bucket of water and ladle resting near the feet, and toss round after round of water on the stones as they let out a dragon-like hiss and send a large cloud of steam that wraps deliciously around the body and stings the ears, eucalyptus oil dabbed into the water clear the sinuses, and, hopefully, when the heat gets excruciatingly unbearable, the breathing has become deeper and deeper, and pride and monk-like mind control have kept everyone inside while every part of human biology is convinced it’s in the throat of a volcano and screaming to escape, that’s when the doors smash open and everyone sprints to submerge in the frigid freshwater of the Big Lake, bringing down the core temperature, and cleansing the soul.
A truly oh-my-god-life-is-good-what-did-I-do-to-deserve-this experience is sauna-swimming at sunset--yes, to ‘sauna-swim’ is an often used verb in the Yoop.
Because those sunsets are unbeatable. Like love, an orgasm, or the world’s greatest sandwich, they’re nearly impossible to describe properly in words.
The sun slides down from On High, sending yellows, oranges, reds, and purples across the sky that are mirrored perfectly by the calm lake. The table-straight horizon line becomes almost impossible to see as the sun dips lower and lower, blending heaven and earth in a pallet of color and then slowly disappearing behind the edge, and the whole breathtaking performance by Mother Nature slowly fades into deep hues of blue and then the darkness of night.
It can truly be a mind-altering experience to witness that while feeling the calming, euphoric post-sauna-swim endorphin rush.
Not long after arriving in the U.P. this summer, my Uncle Jeff invited me down to his dock for a fire. We sat on deck chairs and chatted about life as the afternoon light gave way to late evening. Then my Uncle Jamey arrived, swim trunks in hand.
Sauna ready, I got up to put on my shorts and saw Uncle Rodney emerge from the staircase. Before I knew it, I was sitting on a high bench in 180-degree heat with three of my uncles, thinking, “This is exactly what I came back for.”
We did a few rounds of biting steam followed by a refreshing dive off the dock into the Portage Canal, listening to the waves gently lap at the shore, watching the lights from houses across the way flicker and dance on the dark water as we waited for a slight chill to return before going back for another round.
A few nights after that, I did the same with my Uncle Corey and brother Dylan.
A few nights after that, it was with three little cousins.
That sauna between those docks is on every night in the summer, as are saunas across the Keweenaw Peninsula.
Because we’re Yoopers, we say the word how it was meant to be pronounced, and we know the value of a proper sauna.
Thank you so much for this Mitchell🙏It warms my heart to read this and see the images. I love sauna and like you have described the contrast of hot and cold that usually goes with it, how you feel the difference and change of temperatures in your skin. The smells...Sauna is the best thing in the world, period!
Takes me baaaaack to Stuuuuuuuros’s caaaMP! They had the best sauna swimming with their raft. Man you’re a good writer! I can’t help talk YOOP ya know? 🤣 memory lane. gotta love it!