Welcome to the Yurtstead – Where Hard Isn’t the Same as Bad

Seven Second Version: We live in a yurt in Alaska, and we’re building a homestead from scratch—or I guess you might call it a Yurtstead. Mistakes, moose, frozen pipes, and all. This is our Yurtstead: raw, real, and rooted in something deeper.


When people hear “yurt in Alaska,” they usually imagine one of two things:

  1. A flimsy tent nestled in a dreamscape of mountain views and snow-dusted serenity.
  2. A flimsy tent in the middle of nowhere, plopped next to a stinky outhouse, while we survive on bark, raw salmon, and fend off bears with a spatula.

Our life is… somewhere in between. But let’s get one thing straight: no flimsy tent here.

We’re not off-grid hermits or lifestyle influencers. We’re just a growing family who took a wild step of faith and decided to build a life on raw land in Alaska. We carved out a driveway, tied into the grid (yep—there’s electricity!), built a yurt, and drilled a very expensive well. That well? A saga for another day.

We call it the Yurtstead.

Not just because we live in a yurt (though we do), but because this place is more than a house. It’s a home being forged—piece by piece, project by project, mistake by mistake. My wife and I are raising kids, growing a food forest (or trying to), freezing pipes (not on purpose), and learning what it really means to build on a foundation greater than ourselves.

We’ve had moose mow back our orchard (Mabel the Menace—one of these days I will get that antlerless tag and you will end up in our freezer…), winds that remind us I picked the wrong spot for the yurt (ever watched your bedroom wall flex from glacial gusts? I have…), and winters that expose every mistake I made in ignorance—or straight-up incompetence—during construction. But you know what? “Perfect” isn’t the goal.

Trust is.

Trust grounded in something greater —our relationship with Jesus Christ, who guides every step of this journey.

That’s part of why we call this whole adventure Yurtstead Alaska, and why the tagline is “North of Ordinary.” It starts with a nod to Alaska’s motto, North to the Future, and ends with a wink at how out of the ordinary this whole thing really is. We took the road less traveled—and built a yurt on it. It’s not conventional, but it’s home, and it’s teaching us more than we ever expected.

Why a blog? (Do people even read these things anymore?)

Because we’ve made a ton of mistakes—and we’re still making them. But we’re still standing (most days). I want to share what we’re learning: the wins, the setbacks, the what-NOT-to-do moments, the tools and ideas that flopped, and the lessons we’re living out and passing on to our kids. You don’t have to live in Alaska to build your own version of a Yurtstead.

So whether you’re homesteading, house-hunting (by the way, I’m a licensed real estate agent in Alaska… can I apply for the job to help you?), DIYing, living vicariously through our crazy endeavors, or just dreaming—you’re welcome here. This blog is for the ones who want to live with purpose, embrace the mess, and dig deep into what really matters.

Follow along as we build not just shelter, but something deeper—something lasting. Something built on the firm foundation of Jesus Christ and the work He’s doing in our hearts. We’re still learning. Still growing. Still building our Alaskan Yurtstead.

And we’d love to have you along for the journey.

1 thought on “Welcome to the Yurtstead – Where Hard Isn’t the Same as Bad”

  1. Pingback: Babies, Yurts, and Snowstorms: Building in Alaska When Life Won’t Stick to the Plan - Yurtstead Alaska

Leave a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Scroll to Top