Here's an unusual story. This cabin has no multigenerational family links nor an owner's personal history to the surrounding area. It was purchased by my friend, Dave, as an investment property more than 10 years ago. The A-frame was originally built in the early '60s and resides off a logging road in a remote part of Cook County not far from the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness.

Anyone who's lucky enough to call Dave a friend has an open invitation to be a guest. Most of these invitees have known each other since high school, 50-plus years ago.

There's no electricity, no cable or Wi-Fi, no indoor toilet or running water. Even the cell signal is weak or nonexistent. Few women have visited and fewer children. The place could be called a hunter's shack, except none of us hunt. Fishing is, at best, spotty. What it lacks in amenities it more than makes up for with soul. The terraced vegetable garden of past owners now sprouts wildflowers of every variety. Its proximity to the lake gives deck loungers the illusion of being just above the water. Under its roof, old men gather who cherish their lifelong hunger for the outdoors even as most of us reside in the Twin Cities. The place incubates the embellished stories of past winter and summer camping adventures. The cabin gives rise to pranks and practical jokes, bourbon tastings, cookouts, small-stakes poker and enthusiastic if not well-played music. Daylight is spent hiking, biking, cross-country skiing, snowshoeing, canoeing or kayaking. Every night we pause to take in the astral artistry of the night sky.

We've graced the interior with time-worn books, maps, board games, local tourist souvenirs of the '30s and '40s and logging tools from a century ago. In return, the cabin has enriched our lives with laughter, camaraderie and welcomed flashbacks to our youth. While some friends have passed on, the cabin provided a grand chapter in their final years. And, still, we continue to create new memories.

Mark McHenry, St. Louis Park