EAGAN, Minn. (AP) — As another frigid winter settles over Minnesota with temperatures dipping into the teens, people like Ed Kranz are embracing the cold — and working up quite a sweat.
Kranz and his wife, Colleen, are among Minnesotans who believe the best way to endure winter is to heat up in saunas and then cool off in their state's icy weather.
On a bone-chilling Sunday morning, they set up a mobile wood-fired sauna from their business, Saunable, near a frozen lake in the Minneapolis suburb of Eagan. After about 10 minutes of sweating in the 185 degrees Fahrenheit (85 degrees Celsius) sauna they moseyed outside into the 15-degree temperatures, lingering around a fire in bathing suits before repeating the process three or four more times. One brave soul dipped into a hole in the frozen lake for a post-sauna cold plunge.
Their hot-and-cold venture is common in Minnesota, where plenty of residents embrace sauna culture for warmth and community. Devotees say they are mingling Old World traditions with newfangled internet-based communities, and making social connections in a society that can feel isolating.
Sauna and cold plunges go together like peanut butter and jelly, said Glenn Auerbach, a self-described sauna evangelist and the founder and editor of SaunaTimes. Auerbach started the website in 2008 to share his thoughts, research and conversations with movers and shakers in the sauna world. He and his interlocutors mull over the nitty-gritty of sauna construction, how to cultivate “good sauna vibes” and the potential health benefits of the sauna lifestyle.
A typical temperature to achieve the holy trinity of the sauna experience — heat, steam and ventilation — is about 180 to 200 degrees F (82-93 degrees C), a temperature that starkly contrasts Minnesota's frigid winter weather.
The craftiest in the sauna community can build a facility for about $10,000, according to Auerbach. Those looking to skip the physical labor can outsource the construction. Sauna's popularity, which enthusiasts say spiked following the COVID-19 pandemic, has brought with it a rise in manufacturers selling saunas for about $30,000 to $40,000.
While sauna's cultural cache may have increased in recent years, the practice long predates the Instagrammable spaces now popping up, Auerbach said.
The smell of cedar wood has been lodged in Justin Juntunen's memory ever since he first stepped into his family's sauna as a child. Juntunen, the founder of Cedar and Stone Nordic Sauna, is a descendant of Finnish immigrants who came to America in the 1880s. They brought with them an appreciation for saunas and the communal values the steam-filled rooms impart to local life.
People in Finland say there are more saunas than cars, Juntunen said. When immigrants like his grandfather came to Minnesota to work in the mines, mills or docks, they would often save up to build a farmhouse. But they would build a sauna first, living in the space while the house was constructed. Later, saunas would serve as informal town centers.
People gossiped in saunas, they gave birth in saunas and they died in saunas, Juntunen said. The public nature of the facilities reflects the egalitarian ethos that infuses Nordic culture, and sauna culture by extension, he added.
“This is a tradition that’s actually for everyone,” Juntunen said. “My favorite Nordic proverb is all people are created equal, but nowhere more so than in the sauna."
In addition to a desire for in-person experiences following the COVID-19 pandemic, sauna enthusiasts say interest rose after some of the internet’s most famous figures, such as podcasters Joe Rogan and Andrew Huberman, touted it.
“Every big podcaster in the world discovered that you could jump in cold water and it feels kind of good. And then people click on it online,” Juntunen said.
In this way, technology has been a paradox for sauna culture, he added. Digital media helped sauna culture grow at the same time as saunas were billed as reprieves from the pervasive reach of technology over every facet of daily life.
Either way, almost all of sauna culture's adherents say its rise is inextricably linked to a desire for community.
Those who committed to building their own saunas have hosted friends, neighbors, and former high school hockey teammates over. This has created a new form of post-COVID-19 contagiousness: “Good heat is contagious,” Auerbach said.
This core function of sauna culture spans generations. Juntunen's grandfather would rush to the sauna after work because it was the space where stories were told.
"It’s a space where storytelling happens, where connection happens or silence happens," Juntunen said. “I think that is a really beautiful example of what a sauna truly is.”
