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About

A cabin built by hand, meant for slowing down.

Three summers, forty acres, and a stubborn conviction that a small place done right beats a big place done fast.

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W

e bought this land in 2019 — forty acres of pine, one falling-down deer shack, and a spring that ran cold even in August. We didn't have a plan, exactly. We had two chainsaws, a beat-up truck, and the vague idea that a small cabin would be enough.

The first summer was foundation and floor. The second was walls, roof, and one very cold night sleeping under a tarp because we'd underestimated how long the roof would take. The third was everything that makes a cabin actually feel like a cabin: the wood stove, the kitchen counter, the porch swing, the linen closet nobody but us will ever open.

We built it the way we wanted to stay in it. Real windows. Warm wood. A hot tub because after a long hike in October you deserve one. A kitchen that fits two people cooking together. A wall of books because sometimes the internet should just be off.

Now we live in town and rent the cabin out to people who want what we wanted — a couple of quiet days in the pines. We keep it small on purpose. Two bedrooms, sleeps four, a two-night minimum so nobody arrives already stressed about leaving. We hope you love it here.

— Hannah & June

Image by Clay Banks

What we care about

Small on purpose. Warm on purpose.

Real materials.

Cedar, pine, wool, stone. No plastic where wood will do.

Quiet.

No TV. Great speakers. A record player if you're into it.

Low impact.

Solar hot water, composting toilet, everything sourced within 200 miles.

Actually good coffee.

Beans from the roaster in town. A proper grinder. A moka pot.

Image by Marita Kavelashvili

Epilogue

Your cabin is ready when you are.

Two-night minimum. Small dogs welcome. The fire will be laid.

Book your stay
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