Having a midlife crisis? Go play in the forest!
17.3.2026
Translation: Katherine Martin
Pictures: Martin Rupf
Two of my buddies and I spent the night in a hut we built ourselves. I’d recommend everyone else do the same – especially in these hectic, fast-paced times.
Survival is in right now – and not just since the first season of 7 vs. Wild came out in Switzerland. However, the motivation behind my friends’ and my desire to build a hut in the forest was different: we were keen to get back to our roots. And when a little group of us ventured into the forest at the end of February, that’s exactly what we did. We just wanted to get away from the rat race and back to nature. Away from our PCs and away from the deluge of digital distractions washing over us.
Our destination? A small wooded area near Lake Constance. Our mission? To build a hut and spend the night in it. If that sounds pretty unspectacular to you, it’s because that’s exactly what we were looking for. The unspectacular, the simple, a slower pace. We were craving calm.
After just a few minutes, we found a suitable place for our shelter: two tree trunks spaced about six metres apart that would serve as our hut’s main pillars. Although we had an axe and saw to cut the wood down to size if need be, we didn’t fell any young trees. At that point, we were still operating within the law.
Strictly speaking, we should’ve asked the forest owner (in this case, a municipality I’ll decline to mention here) for permission. Knowing that an angry forester could destroy our hut, we chose to skip going to the authorities.
Anyway, that’s by the by. We soon had the foundations of the hut in place, fixing large cross-beams to the tree trunks with simple packing string. For the roof, we used – yes, I admit it – fresh fir branches. We knew the weather would stay dry, so we made do with a fairly thin layer. We also covered the floor inside the hut with fir branches. After all, we had to make it as soft and cosy as possible.
Alright, we weren’t exactly in hardcore survival mode
With that, we were ready for night to fall. Although we knew it’d be dry, we also knew it’d be a very chilly, late-February evening. With that in mind, we made sure we were well stocked up on firewood. We built a large, elongated firepit, positioning it right in the middle of the hut so that the smoke could escape through the opening in the roof.
As it got dark and much cooler outside, we got nice and cosy inside the hut. We prepared a starter of minestrone soup over the fire, then dined on steak and mashed potatoes for our main.
Admittedly, none of this sounds like we were in hardcore survival mode. But you know what? We didn’t fancy foraging for edible herbs in the forest. Nor did we feel like chowing down on bugs or drinking from a stream contaminated with E. coli.
Waking up to birdsong
Thanks to our sleeping mats and military sleeping bags, we were warm and comfortable inside the hut. Lulled by the glow of the fire and candles and the crackle of burning wood, we finally fell asleep, tired and full.
Sometime after midnight, I woke up shivering. Unsurprisingly, the fire had gone out, the only light emanating from the candles and embers in the firepit. Still half asleep, I wriggled out of my sleeping bag and dragged the logs we’d cut earlier inside. A few minutes later, the fire was blazing again, its warmth spreading dreamily through the hut. The fir-branch walls proved to be surprisingly well insulated.
The next time I woke up, dawn had broken. The fire was still burning – or had been relit. Apparently, one of my buddies had woken up after me and taken it upon himself to keep the fire alive.
As my friends slumbered on and the sky grew progressively lighter, I just lay there, listening to the sounds of the birds. I guess that’s how people must’ve felt hundreds of years ago, when there was no traffic noise or anything like that.
Slowly, very slowly (none of us are getting any younger, and my limbs were stiff) I got up and made a pot of coffee before waking my buddies. We were all chuffed with the realisation that we’d slept really well despite the cold.
We rolled up our sleeping bags and mats and stowed our gear in our rucksacks. Knowing it had no legal right to be there, we briefly considered demolishing the hut. But we didn’t have the heart to do it. Hey, maybe someone else will get to enjoy it.
We all agreed that this wouldn’t be the last time we’d spend the night in a forest. However, as lovely as the great outdoors and simplicity were, we were really looking forward to a hot shower. We sorely needed one too. Although we’d only spent just under 24 hours in the forest, we looked like we’d survived a week in the wilderness. And smelled like it too. The day after our adventure, my wife told me I still stank of smoke.
Header image: Martin Rupf
Martin Rupf
Senior Editor
martin.rupf@digitecgalaxus.chHalf-Danish dad of two and third child of the family, mushroom picker, angler, dedicated public viewer and world champion of putting my foot in it.
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