Call it a cabin, a cottage, or a hut; there’s something about sleeping in a small wooden dwelling that resonates in the American psyche, especially in winter. Where this cabin fever comes from, I’m not sure. Maybe it’s the cottage-in-a-forest images from fairy tales; think of the refuge Snow White found with the dwarves in their tidy little home. Maybe it’s the Laura Ingalls Wilder effect; her “Little House” books are loaded with idyllic family scenes that take place around the fireplace in pint-sized digs in the woods, on the prairie, or in a tiny town.

Or, maybe it’s the current microhouse fad, in which we who live in big houses admire those who live in homes tiny enough that they can be hauled on a highway – which means they’ve got a footprint of about 7 x 10 feet.

I asked my friend, Bonnie Carol, who often arranges for six or eight adults to share a cabin somewhere, what the allure was for her. She explained it like this: “Spending all day in the outdoors by skiing or snowshoeing or just hiking, getting our bodies to make endorphins so that we’re happy and communicative, experiencing nature, going back to a cabin and cooking together, and then doing it again the next day, is more bliss than I can imagine.”

I felt that bliss as one of her lucky invitees last winter. The cabin was at the YMCA’s Snow Mountain Ranch, north of Fraser. The pleasure of that weekend wasn’t in the building, although the accommodations were fine. And it wasn’t exactly the cross-country skiing, although that was perfect: not too hard, not too easy.

The pleasure was in the repartee, the after-dinner game-playing and the culinary surprises each person contributed. For instance, one breakfast included chile-eggs with guacamole, pumpkin-pecan bread, and orange slices garnished with fennel. Not like the usual oatmeal I eat at home!
With fond memories of that trip, this fall I went in search of the “perfect” winter cabin. I found three contenders, all in the same snowy neck of the woods (on or near county road 82, just west of Fraser and not far from Snow Mountain Ranch). This valley is particularly good because it is less than two hours from Denver, has the best food between I-70 and Steamboat Springs, and is already a Nordic mecca.

The food and the “mecca” are part of Devil’s Thumb Ranch, the first place on my list. Devil’s Thumb is a resort with all the bells and whistles – a spa, two restaurants (one fancy, and the other fancier still), stables, and concierge service. It began as a cross-country resort, and receives consistently high praise for its trails, instructors, races, and all-things Nordic. All of that is available for day visitors to enjoy as well as guests.

While Devil’s Thumb has lodge rooms, I was only interested in cabins. The styling is purely rustic with wooden floors, ceilings and walls, but modern design permits many people to be under the same roof without losing too much privacy. The cabins come equipped with bundles of kindling and logs on every porch, and if you need instruction on how to light a fire, just ask (the concierge is only a phone call away, and sleighs come by from time to time to take cabin visitors to the lodge). The largest cabins have four bedrooms, so you can sleep a small crowd together. They’re all set for cooking in, and the lodge makes it easy to have a “splurge” night.

For those who don’t want the full-on resort experience, drive two miles down the road to the Wild Horse Inn, where life is just a bit simpler. Here, you’ll find a full gourmet breakfast and as much company or quiet as you prefer. Most people stay in the nine lodge rooms, but three stand-alone cabins with kitchenettes rim the property. Most winter guests at Wild Horse dine at either Devil’s Thumb or at the Tabernash Tavern, even closer. The innkeepers are athletes, and they’ll be happy to advise on ski possibilities, including the trails at Devil’s Thumb, the nearby and small Sol Vista ski area, and many trails on public lands. And when you’re done taxing your muscles, they can provide massages on site.

I began to think of Devil’s Thumb as the “venti” of cabin options and Wild Horse as the “grande.” As for the “tall” option in Fraser Valley, that has to be the High Lonesome Hut. It was built in 1995 by Andy Miller of Fraser, who calls himself a “hut-aholic.” This privately owned hut has the advantage of being 2.5 miles from a plowed road. In other words, your adventure begins when you leave the car and prepare to ski or snowshoe in.

The High Lonesome is primarily a self-catering operation, BYO in all senses – bedding, food, libations. If you’re looking for a wee bit of cushiness, you can arrange to have your gear hauled in – for a price, of course. It’s also a DIY experience in that if you want it to be warm inside, you’ll stoke the woodburning furnace in the lower level. With beds for six or eight people – more, if you’re particularly friendly – it is rented out to just one party at a time, unlike many of Colorado’s backcountry huts.

For some visitors, just getting to the cabin is sufficient exercise; sporty people can travel many miles from the cabin before returning to the fireside. Strawberry Lake is one potential destination.
For my money, it doesn’t matter how much “sport” is involved in a cabin adventure; what matters is the food, the fire, and the folks. And I agree with my friend Bonnie - it’s bliss.

In addition to writing The Enlightened Tourist column for Nexus, freelance writer Wendy Underhill has written features and investigative reports on a number of diverse topics.