Enchanted Sauna Under the Sea

Saunas are fairly common where I grew up in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula, home to many people of Finnish heritage, myself included. I’ll always be grateful our ancestors brought the sauna tradition with them when they immigrated from Finland, as I’ve been enjoying saunas for as long as I can remember. Some of my earliest sauna experiences took place in my Great Aunt Ruth’s small basement sauna. Ruth, who just recently turned 100-years-old, lived across the alley from her sister-in-law, my Finnish grandmother, Norma, who would let me tag along when she’d walk over for a sauna. When I was a little older, I began regularly taking saunas at our neighbor’s house — the Wuebben family. They were an Apostolic Lutheran family with thirteen children, just about one kid in each grade at our small K-12 school. Andrea Wuebben and I were classmates and every Sunday night her family would fire up their large sauna, which was built off of their garage. The boys and the girls would take separate group saunas, with the main goal of getting squeaky clean for the week ahead. Everyone would have their own plastic dish pan filled with hot water and a washcloth. At this point in my life, the sauna was simply a means to an end, a ritual to get cleaned up and ready for a new week.

Our sauna themed wedding cake topper - 2009

While growing up, I was involved in competitive swimming and eventually used my skills to become a lifeguard. Saunas at various swimming facilities came into my life as a way to ease sore muscles and relax, and provide a warm place to dry off before changing and facing winter weather. I have a distinct memory of sauna abuses at one facility where I worked — the pool at the former Suomi College in Hancock, Mich., which is now known as Finlandia University, FU for short. And yes, I suspect they changed the name in order to make more money selling FU apparel. While working a lifeguard shift, a group of rowdy boys thought it’d be funny to piss on the sauna rocks. I’ve smelled plenty of unpleasant things through my years on this planet, but have to say sauna piss steam is up there as one of the worst. On the plus side, Sauna Piss Steam would be a great name for a band.


My close friend Kristin’s family had a camp on Lake Superior (camp = cottage in Yooper speak) and when I was in high school her parents’ built a great sauna. Through college, my group of friends spent many nights hanging out at the camp and took many memorable saunas, some of which may have involved just a little bit of drinking. Crazy college antics aside, the times we had in this sauna developed my deep appreciation of the hot/cold cycle, as the sauna was a fairly short run to the icy waters of Lake Superior, all thankfully on a sandy beach. Summer nights spent in the U.P. at the camp were simply spectacular. Sauna — lake — bonfire, sauna — lake — bonfire . . . repeat. Standing bare ass naked along the shore looking up at the Milky Way as a deep inner peace overcomes your body . . . honestly, nothing can compare to this feeling. Some nights we’d even get lucky and capture a glimpse of the Northern Lights. If I could instantly transport myself anywhere in space and time, it would be to one of these nights. I’m not religious, but these nights were way more spiritual than anything I’ve experienced in a church.

Kristin's sauna

Most of the time spent at Kristin’s sauna was in the summer, but one day we ventured out there in the dead of winter to do a little cross country skiing and fire up the sauna. There aren’t any groomed trails in this area, but we worked up a good sweat skiing along the lake. Having been raised in a sauna culture, we weren’t all too shy about nudity, but we would usually only run around in our birthday suits under the cover of darkness. In the winter, most of the cottages in the area were vacant and there were few permanent homes nearby. So we figured it’d be a great idea to try our hand at skinny skiing after a hot cycle in the sauna. I was blown away by how long we were able to ski naked before needing to get back into the sauna. It was the middle of the day, nobody was around and we were simply surrounded by a beautiful frozen landscape. So we thought . . .


Come to find out later one of Kristin’s neighbors who had a place a few lots north of her’s had been home, noticed some skiers and just couldn’t figure out what they were wearing. Curious, they grabbed their binoculars to get a better look. I imagine they got quite a surprise when they realized we were wearing the most aerodynamic of outfits. To my chagrin, the neighbor in question was a doctor at the same hospital where my mom worked as a nurse. My mother, having a pretty solid sense of humor, later incorporated the story into a lovely quilt she made for my wedding. The quilt features a sauna, complete with smoke coming out of a little chimney, and a pair of skis leaning against the structure. I adore this quilt and the memories it invokes.

Sauna quilt - by Betty Jokinen

Although my dad is 100% Finn and a woodworker who lives on the shores of Lake Superior, he has never been a fan of saunas and he never felt compelled to build a sauna. He’s also an unusual Finn in the fact that he doesn’t like coffee. Maybe it skips a generation, because not much makes me happier than a good hot sauna and a good hot cup of coffee, though not at the same time. After settling down in Minneapolis nearly 15 years ago, opportunities to take a sauna became few and far between and generally only happened when I visited the homeland and got lucky enough to get invited to a friend’s sauna. In the past few years, I’ve had a few Twin Cities friends invest in backyard barrel saunas and I’ve been lucky enough to take advantage of their hospitality. I’m happy to say I’m now able to pay them back, as this past fall we took the plunge and purchased a sauna kit and are now the proud owners of a pod sauna, which is a bit roomier than the popular barrel saunas. I’m thankful that Adam was able to get the kit together so well with a little help from friends and the boys.

A work in progress.

I love that the sauna has a changing room area and seats six adults comfortably. I love that the sauna has a wood burning stove with a little window, so the burning logs cast a lovely red glow to the hot room. I love that the sauna can heat up to 180 degrees in about an hour. I love that the sauna’s doors are all glass and it has two skinny windows in the hot room, so it doesn’t feel at all claustrophobic. I love that when I’m having a bad day I can decide to fire up the sauna and it makes everything better. I love that I can enjoy the sauna by myself if I need to recharge and be alone, or I can invite friends over to share the experience, conversation, drinks and relaxation. I love that I’m finally living the Finnish-American dream!

The flux capacitor of the sauna - that which makes sauna possible.

Holy waah, if you happen to be in the Twin Cities on any given Sunday night please stop by and get your sweat on. Just make sure to not get too drunk and fall on the sauna stove.

The author and her boys in her happy place.