One weekend my family stayed in a mountain cabin. The aspens had started to turn, the air had crisped, and my daughters did what young daughters frequently do: They frolicked.
I brooded.
Yurt envy.
Near our squat, stolid hymn to angularity rose the dwelling, mocking us with conical whimsy and gypsy nonchalance.
Hi ya, Grandpa, it blurted as I clutched a cold beer. Must be sort of interesting, being all rooted and square. Me, I’m footloose. I’m round. Anyway, see ya!
And off it traipsed in my mind, this happy nomad, this plucky itinerant, this hippie.
Had I been at the end of a six-pack instead of the beginning, I might have mouthed, I love you.
Thus began my romance with yurts, fabric-wrapped structures that look something like upside-down funnels.
People across Central Asia have lived in yurts for centuries, moving the structures with them as they roamed across the high steppes.
But the abodes didn’t make much of a splash in the United States until sometime shortly after the Summer of Love.
They’ve been in Colorado since those hazy ’60s days, and the state park system embraced yurts in the 1990s. Now, six Colorado state parks rent yurts, as do private companies around the state. Many of the privately held yurts are available in the winter for the cross-country- skiing-inclined, or in the summer for the high-clearance, four-wheel-drive- inclined.
I am not so inclined.
So my family has rented yurts in Golden Gate Canyon State Park, about a half-hour west of Golden, and in State Forest State Park, about two hours west of Fort Collins.
We have not rejected cabin life, but given a choice between right angles and curves, we’ll usually go for the latter.
With 13-foot walls and a ceiling that slopes up to a round skylight, the 452 square feet you get in most yurts feels spacious, soaring. The skylight frames stars at night and invites sunlight inside during the day. The pine floors simultaneously suggest classy and rustic.
Yurt walls are made from latticed wood, frequently Douglas fir, and the whole skeleton is visible from inside. For those not touched with even a splinter of the architect’s sensibility, it’s still cool to examine the thing and try to figure out how it works.
Stretched over the outside of the frame is synthetic fabric, either nylon or polyester. Transparent plastic windows are cut into the sides, and the whole structure usually sits atop something like a high backyard deck.
So it’s a glorified tent, you say.
Cold, you say.
Nope. Yurts are insulated, and with a stove cranked up they quickly turn balmy, even with snow piled up against the fabric walls.
This I know because in Colorado, April has another name, January, and one “April” weekend we packed the minivan on a bright, warm Saturday in Denver and drove to a yurt in Golden Gate Canyon State Park. We hiked, we cooked over a campfire, we sat on picnic benches and listened for wildlife.
We woke up to more than a foot of snow, to a blizzard: a thick and angry swarm of white locusts driving sideways.
Scream-inducing, yes. But at least we were warm.
Yurts have family advantages. Kids find them exotic. Stella, who is almost 7, likes to sit on the broad floor and play, and she thrills to the skylight when she’s prone on her top bunk.
Ruby, who is almost 3, likes to say “yurt.”
Since yurts are a single, round room, there is no escaping one another.
I can hear the words in your head – “Uh-oh” – but our yurt experiences have conjured family clemency, and barely a blip of discord.
I’m sure there are people out there who will say, “Ah, yes, of course. The circular shape of the yurt, combined with the angled ceiling that is centered with a skylight, is a classic ‘tonic’ shape, like a pyramid. It produces calm. Were the Pentagon a yurt, there would be peace on earth.”
There is something enchanting, I concede, about living in-the-round. But I like to think that our yurt-related good vibrations stem from being comfortable and in the woods and all together.
Tents have their place, but sometimes what you really want, and what your kids dream about, is a weekend in the wilderness but with plenty of sheltered standing room, and heat, and beds. And protection from rain and wind.
What you seek is a variation on a theme of effortless, and yurts in Colorado deliver, although some produce the effect with greater ease than others.
The yurts in State Forest, for instance, come with just about everything but food, clothing and bedding, so you don’t need to excavate the contents of your house and cram them into the vehicle before trudging off to the woods.
Dogs? No problem, as long as you’re renting in summer. They are forbidden during winter.
Coffeepots and mugs, plates, skillets, a stove, blankets, dishes, a charcoal grill: This and more comes with a stay at the State Forest yurts, which are owned and operated by Never Summer Nordic, a private company.
Never Summer Nordic owns six yurts in State Forest, and plans a seventh later this year.
My family of four and an old friend from California stayed in the Dancing Moose yurt, the one involving the shortest walk, about 10 steps, from vehicle to dwelling.
In State Forest, the yurts are much more remote than in the rest of the state parks. These are no campgrounds, with rows of cabins and his-and-her bathrooms and mazes of tent sites. In State Forest, most of the yurts sit distant from one another. You get a yurt, an outhouse and nature all around.
A gigantic meadow sprawled before our deck. The Medicine Bow mountains and Clark Peak loomed.
It’s the heart of Colorado moose country, and during one wicked, late-afternoon thunderstorm – we were dry and warm inside the yurt, watching the squall through a window – a huge bull moose lumbered across the meadow from one patch of forest to another.
Like much of the backcountry, the area also is home to bears. The night before we arrived, one had knocked over the charcoal grill.
Here it comes: Ah-ha!
Yurts have fabric walls; bears have big claws and great strength; yurts, therefore, will not thwart hungry bears.
“We had one bear go into a yurt through the window,” says Never Summer Nordic owner Anne Graves. “She ripped it and sent her cub in because there was a fruit roll-up on the table.”
The yurt was empty, and it was the only bear break-in they’ve had during the three years she and her husband Greg Graves have owned the yurts.
The Graves offer a solution to bear problems at their yurts.
“We have large bins underneath the yurts that clasp and have a lock,” she says. “You can put all of your stuff in there. Put everything in there. What will happen is a bear will come up to that, sniff around, get frustrated, and then try to leave.”
Either way, the black bears that live in State Forest aren’t particularly threatening.
“They get spooked easily,” she says.
Of the rest of the yurts, two sit near each other and involve short walks. The longest trek from car to yurt is about three-tenths of a mile in the summer for the Grass Creek yurt.
Life at yurts in other state parks can involve more packing and more people.
The packing part is something only an extreme masochist would celebrate (see sidebar for what each state park offers in its yurts).
The people part, though, has its merits.
For those not accustomed to a night in the backcountry, spending it in the proximity of others might make the whole thing seem less scary.
If you have kids, there’s the chance they’ll find contemporaries with whom to explore and play.
This happened with my children during a late-fall visit to Golden Gate Canyon State Park.
Our yurt sat near several cabins filled with families. Our kids melded with their kids, and the whole bunch ran around the campground at night shrieking and wielding glowsticks.
My wife, Annie, and I joined the cluster of adults sitting around a crackling blaze of a campfire, eating chili and sipping beers.
After awhile, one of the guys leaned toward me and said, “Hey, what’s it like in the yurt?”
Maybe it was the strange, orange firelight, but his eyes, fixed on our lovely yurt, betrayed in his soul a certain confused passion, a blend of yearning and bitterness sprinkled with hope.
“It’s warm in there, and spacious, and it’s got a skylight,” I replied. “It’s round.”
He sipped his beer and studied the dwelling for awhile.
“Wow.”
Staff writer Douglas Brown can be reached at 303-820-1395 or djbrown@denverpost.com
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Everything you wanted to know about Colorado’s yurts but never dared to ask
Private outfitters across the state offer wilderness yurts for rent. Several make their yurts available in the summer, but in most cases the yurts are relatively far from paved roads and are best accessed – and sometimes only accessed – with a four-wheel-drive vehicle. In other cases, they are available only in winter for snowshoers and cross-country skiers.
The state park system, on the other hand, maintains a passel of yurts at six different parks across the state. The yurts, typically part of a campground, are available for rent in the summer. In addition, you can drive any vehicle nearly up to the yurt door in all of the yurts except for a few at the State Forest State Park.
So far this summer, outdoor fires are permitted in campfire rings at state park yurts except for those in State Forest, where campfires are banned.
All state parks have websites, each accessible through the State Parks website, parks.state.co.us
State parks do not supply bedding, so bring your own pillows, sheets, blankets and sleeping bags.
For all of the parks other than State Forest, bring your own cookware, plates and utensils, coffeepots and propane stoves.
The skinny on state-park yurts:
Ridgway State Park, 28555 U.S. 550, Ridgway. 970-626-5822. Three yurts; $60 a night (two-night minimum). Six people max per yurt. One yurt allows pets ($10 per night).
Purchase firewood at camp office (no found deadwood allowed, but you can bring your own).
What they have: ceiling fan, propane heater/gas-log fireplace, two twin-sized bunks, double futon, queen futon, table seats six, outdoor picnic table, elevated barbecue grill, ground-level campfire ring, small microwave, refrigerator, electical outlets, ceiling light, campground shower, laundry facilities, drinking water.
Pearl Lake State Park, Clark, 970-879-3922. Two yurts, $60 a night (two-night minimum). Six people max per yurt. No pets. Purchase firewood at lake marina. Deadwood can be burned in the campfire rings.
What they have: ceiling fan, electric heat and power, two sets bunks (lower bunk double futon), indoor picnic table seats four, outdoor picnic table, fire ring, indoor light, drinking water, campground shower, laundry facilities, campground vault toilets and one flush toilet.
Golden Gate Canyon State Park, 92 Crawford Gulch Road, Golden, 303-582-3707. Two yurts; $60 a night. Six people max per yurt. Pets permitted in one yurt ($10 per night).
Purchase firewood at camp office. No deadwood burning, but you can bring your own.
What they have: propane heater, electric lights, table and chairs, two bunks (one twin, the other double), outdoor ground grill and stand-up grill, campground flush toilets and running water, shower facilities.
Mancos State Park, 42545 County Road N, Mancos, 970-533-
7065. Two yurts; $60 a night. 6 people max per yurt. Pets permitted in both yurts ($10 per night).
No firewood for purchase. You can gather and burn deadwood or bring own.
What they have: ceiling fan and light, propane heater/gas-log fireplace, one pair twin bunk beds, one double futon, one queen futon, table seats four, electric power, outdoor picnic table, elevated barbecue grill, ground-level campfire ring, drinking water, campground bathrooms.
Sylvan Lake State Park, 10200 Brush Creek Rd. Eagle, 970-328-2021. Three yurts; $60 a night. Six people max per yurt. Pets permitted in one yurt ($10 per night).
Firewood can be purchased at the campground. No deadwood burning, but you can bring your own.
Unlike the rest of the yurts in the state-park system, Sylvan Lake does not have electric power. Also, the yurts are about 4 1/2 miles from the campground, the closest source of water.
What they have: indoor solar-powered light, gas heater, bunk beds with double beds on bottom, indoor table and chairs, outdoor firepit with cooking grate, outdoor picnic table, vault toilet.
State Forest State Park, 56750 Colorado 14, Walden, 970-723-8366. Six yurts; $60 (summer weekdays) or $70 (summer weekends). Owned and operated by a park concessionaire, Never Summer Nordic. To rent a yurt, contact the company at 970-723-4070 or neversummernordic.com. Occupancies vary from yurt to yurt: The biggest sleeps as many as 12. Pets permitted in summer.
No campfires.
These yurts do not have electric power, and they do not have easy access to running water.
What they have: These come equipped with much more than the rest of the state-park yurts. Woodstove-heated and supplied with firewood. Indoor stoves, cookware, coffeepot, utensils, plates, bowls, cups, dish soap and dishpans. Outhouses.
Other Colorado yurts:
Joyful Journey Hot Springs Spa, 28640 County Road 58EE, Moffat, 719-256-4328, joyfuljourneyhotsprings.com.
Leadville Back Country, 1708 Mount Lincoln Drive West, Leadville, 719-486-0126, leadvillebackcountry.com.
The Hidden Treasure Yurts, at elevation 11,200 on New York Mountain, Eagle County, 800-444-2813, backcountry-colorado-yurt.com/.
Ute Lodge and Outfitting Service, 393 RBC 75, Meeker,, 888-414-2022. utelodge.com.
James Peak Yurt, several miles north of Black Hawk, 888-287-1202, jamespeakyurt.com.
City of Lakewood, Bear Creek Lake Park, 15600 W. Morrison Road, Lakewood, 303-697-6159. To get to website, enter lakewood.org, then under the pull-down menu “for residents” click on “parks and recreation.” Then click on “regional parks.” Then click on “Bear Creek Lake Park.” Then click on “camping facilities.” This will take you to the yurt website.
