Go Yurt!
No, not a spoonerism (complete with granola and strawberries), but an imperative! It is Seattlest's confirmed opinion that not enough of us Yurt.
Yurting is an activity enjoyed by the upper classes in Mongolia. A yurt is a kind of large boat, featuring massive engines, diving platforms in the back, and a man in a Ghengis Kahn hat, smoking a pipe. In it, posh Mongols cruise through their vast waters, raping and looting and having their friends over for cocktails.
(thinks) What a great idea! We should just start making up all our posts. Piece 'a cake! What a load off! Hmmm... but what if some Einstein out there actually knows what a yurt is? Why, we'd be the object of public ridicule, shamed by our own laziness. That wouldn't do. There's no choice but to do some - ugh! - research. What's the world coming to?
So it turns out that a yurt is a glorified tent. With origins in Mongolia. That much is true. It also turns out that they have a bunch of them to rent at Kayak Point Regional Park, near Stanwood in Snohomish County. In fact, they've got a whole little village of 'em. Not being the neighborly type, we grabbed yurt #10, which is off all on its lonesome.
Now, we're used to backpacking and all the hardships that entails. Give us a Ridge Rest and a place to lay... etc. So this yurt thing was immediately shocking for its luxury. Not only were we allowed to start a fire (!) instead of boiling crap on our dinky stove, but the yurt had a heater! And a futon! And a bunk bed! It could sleep five! Hardwood floors, coffee table, indoor/outdoor lighting- not to mention a skylight- We were just knocked out. It felt like cheating.
No plumbing, unfortunately. The toilets were only 100 yards away, though. A bit creepy at night, it has to be said. But otherwise well-situated - A quick trek down the trail behind yurt #10 brings you to the beach. From there, you get lovely views of Whidbey Island across a narrow stretch of the Sound- and the chance to catch your supper, if you've been precient enough to bring a fishing pole. There's a long pier, which is constantly packed with anglers.
Our own humble dinner awaited (Not Dogs over a campfire anyone?), but one serious challenge lay in store. The firewood you can purchase from park staff is cut in stove-size pieces. Now, this wouldn't normally be a problem, as kindling of various sizes can be found in the surrounding woods. Unless, as was the case with us, it had been raining daily for several days before our arrival- and showers began again just as we attempted our fire-starting. Nothing dry could be found, and a little - ahem - petroleum-based assistance was required. Did we mention that it was raining?
The yurts at Kayak Point are built by Pacific Yurts, and the wooden framework is all Douglas fir, which was gorgeous. The park had opted for the NASA-invented space insulation, and the place warmed quickly with only a tiny electric heater. Unfortunately, there were enough gaps here and there that the heat left almost as quickly once the heater was shut off. Those gaps also meant that a small handful (not literally) of insects had found a comfortable home in our yurt.
So, yurt pros: luxurious, non-strenuous camping - a warm, comfortable night's sleep - a safe place to hide from roving nocturnal wild animals - fire ring in front (not really a yurt feature, admittedly) yielded enough toasted marshmallows to bust a gut.
Yurt cons: No toilet - a few bugs (none poisonous) - space age insulation defeated by shoddy workmanship - futon the most uncomfortable yet encountered.
Since most of the cons relate to our specific yurt, and not yurts in general, Seattlest comes out resoundingly in favor. Of camping in yurts. At Kayak Point. There's lots of yurt camping elsewhere that we can't vouch for (including lots in Oregon). And some people live in yurts, you know. We're not so sure about that.
