These days there is a lot of internet banter about obtaining “perfection” when building a sauna and often dogmatic rules pertaining to bench heights, ventilation, wood selection and so on. I also see frequent reference to a quote that says the only good sauna is a Finnish (made in Finland) sauna and that all saunas made in the US are bad or worse. Mostly I to try ignore it all and stay focused on continuing to build quality saunas.
This week we are taking a break from all of it by doing a Nordic ski Vacation at Lapland Lake—a wonderful family oriented Nordic skiing center in the lower Adirondacks where incredible amounts of snow are still on the ground in March. The center was built by Olavi Hirvonen, a Canadian born Finn who was raised by his grandparents back in Finland then came back to the US, eventually skiing (cross country) in the 1960 Olympics before continuing on as a carpenter near New York City. A family tragedy made him re-evaluate his life goals and led him north to Lapland Lake where he bought a chunk of the forest, built a lodge and guest cottages, and developed some of the finest Nordic ski trails in the Northeast.
Everything here bears of the mark of a Finnish carpenter, much of it reminiscent of Podunk, which was also built by a Finn. The simple construction, low ceilings, unique trim detailing, and pragmatic design prevail. When you come upon the lodge after driving miles on rough forested road the unfamiliar will be taken aback by the lack ostentatiousness. This is not built in the tradition of the great Adirondack camps, such as Sagamore.
The Finnish flag flying out front (next to the American, Swedish, and Norwegian flag) is the most obvious clue that you are here.
The lodge is an oddly proportioned structure with an asymmetrical gable roof and randomly placed windows. This is snow country where the snow often reaches the second story of houses; things are built to survive that and roof lines often extend to cover adjoining walkways or combine buildings into one. It also an economically depressed area; people make do. I’m sure when Olavi settled here, his carpenter’s salary did not leave him with piles of money to spend on fancy embellishments.
His dream and his Sisu were his capital and hard work went into everything. It is obvious, from the level of upkeep, and signs of industriousness, that the current owners continue that ethic.
Inside, the main lodge is homey and comfortable, a modest main room with a fireplace to relax after skiing, a very well stocked ski shop, an upstairs cafeteria, and a sauna down in the back. It is here that I want to focus my thoughts. At first glance the sauna is a rough affair- it has an ample dressing room with a simple phone booth-style fiberglass shower. The ceilings throughout are low, under 8 feet, and the detailing is plain. But it is clean and welcoming. Classic 1980 sauna etiquette cartoons are on the wall as well as the typical signage about adding more wood to the fire and other house rules. The bench lid lifts to reveal a firewood storage; a classic sauna detail.
The hot room door is a heavy wooden affair with a rustic stick hardware pulls. Inside the sauna is about 10 x7 feet with the wood stove ( and a defunct auxiliary electric heater) at one end with a cement block chimney behind the stove. The stove (or Kiuas) is the familiar Helo, same as the Narvia Kota Kuru, similar to the Harvia M3. This is a basic Finnish model wood burner that has been in production for almost half a century. The walls and ceiling are rough #3 cedar, commonly used for fencing, but there is a smooth back rest to lean against. The benches are pine 2 x 6’s, smoothed (butt worn!) by years of use. Heavy rust stains indicate that no stainless steel was used but the benches seem pretty solid. The whole room has that darkened patina of a well used sauna. One could say the style, if any style at all, is dated, but that is not the point, it was clearly pragmatic in design and probably the first thing Olavi built. The rooms suit their purpose today as well as they did 48 years ago. Most importantly, it is kept clean, is able to get hot, and produce a nice löyly; which is more than I can say for many, many, saunas I have experienced. When I peeked back in the following morning, the floor had been rinsed and the duckboards were propped up to dry—always a good sign.
At the end of a day spent skiing spring conditions on perfectly groomed trails, the sauna was as perfect as I could have wanted it to be. It was hot (200° F plus) and ready for me. I did a few rounds of heat and löyly followed by rolls in the snow.
I did the ritual solo but Scarlet had the pleasant company of a new sauna friend during her rounds. There is nothing I would take away or add to it. This was built by a Finnish carpenter, raised in Finland, who had more Sisu than most—how can I even begin to judge that?
The conundrum I face as a builder of Finnish style saunas, is that I would never build a sauna like Olavi did. I know too much now. My purpose now is not to just serve that basic need of a hot sauna at the end of a hard days work or play, but to serve the increasingly diverse needs of a range of clients. Because one client will demand “perfection”, the bar is raised on all of my work. It would be criminal if we did not use the best available materials and accepted building practices. The competitive demands of the web require that each build be not only perfectly functional but photogenic as well. And the economic demands of running a business and supporting ourselves require that we have to balance making a decent profit with making quality products. We achieve that by marketing to a higher level clientele rather than cutting corners—but those higher expectations of what quality looks like and what it costs, cuts out the poorer customers, the common folk, whom we still want to bring sauna to.
Olavi built his dream resort before the web existed and before the current sauna revival. He depended on word of mouth and yet had a steady stream of returning customers and sauna devotees who continue to enjoy the simple pleasures of this modest haven.
Built on a budget, maintained for years on a shoestring and resourcefulness, and driven by his Sisu, or perseverance, Olavi achieved a level of quality that may now be lost to the frenzy of our internet driven times.
Note: Olavi Hirvonen died in the fall of 2024 at the age of 93. The new owners, Kathy and Paul Zahray, are committed to continuing the traditions at Lapland, including keeping the sauna hot!
