I don’t know exactly what I expected when I drove into Afton, WY, with plans for an overnight stay at a log cabin. Most likely I expected something funky and rustic, something a big step down from the upscale accommodations seventy miles north in affluent Jackson Hole. After all, Afton is a relatively small town of approx. 1800 people, located in scenic, but not tourist-attracting Star Valley. But I was about to learn a lesson about expectations.

Driving north from Utah, I’d taken my time along the Logan Canyon Scenic Byway, stopping to explore canyon features along the way, including a 1.3 mile loop hike on the well-maintained Limber Tree Trail. With a stop in Garden City, UT for a raspberry shake – an area tradition – I continued north through short distances of Utah, Idaho and Wyoming highway, arriving leisurely in Afton.

Turning off Hwy 89 at Dry Creek Rd, I followed it a short quarter mile to the driveway of Old Mill Log Cabins. Stepping out of my car, I was immediately struck by the silence that hovered across the property. Aside from the rustling of aspen leaves and the babbling of a small creek, there wasn’t a sound. It took a few moments to adjust, having just cruised in from the road with the sounds of trucks behind me and the crackle of gravel under my tires.

I had spoken by phone earlier with owner Rob Erikson and knew he might not be there when I arrived. I found Rhonda, his wife, at the main house, introduced myself and paid the arranged lodging fee. I would be the only guest that evening, it turned out, so she pointed me in the direction of the cabins and told me to pick one to my liking.

My choice turned out to be more difficult than I expected. Where I had figured to just grab any cabin for the night, I soon found myself wanting to stay in them all. Far from the basic accommodations I had anticipated, the cabins could have been straight out of a magazine. Every detail was perfect, from the artsy twists of the pine logs to the interior decorating touches found throughout: wreathes of dried twigs, framed nature prints, heavy cotton drapes and shower curtains, carefully rolled towels in antique tubs, railroad spikes as rustic wall hooks and eclectic porch furnishings ranging from lodgepole benches to an antique church pew. Clearly there would be less roughing it than I hadimagined.

The smaller cabins -Lodgepole and Aspen - were similar, both one room with two queen beds and a front porch facing a pine-carpeted hillside. They had indoor and outdoor sitting areas, as well as private bathrooms and the modern conveniences of televisions, compact refrigerators and gas fireplaces. There were obviously no bad choices and Lodgepole, with a southwestern theme décor, looked pretty appealing to me, so I prepared to unload my bags from the car.

But my curiosity continued and I wandered down to a third, larger cabin, situated at the end of the row, giving it a feeling of additional privacy. Though more spacious than I needed, housing an upstairs loft with additional bed, couch and wash basin, the cabin had a living room area that looked like it would be conducive to writing. I couldn’t resist the luxury of the extra work space and told Rhonda I would make Cottonwood my home for the night.

Though nestled in a sliver of canyon area, with natural surroundings in every direction, the immediate areas around the cabins were landscaped beautifully, with low rock walls partnering with juniper bushes and lush, green lawn areas stretching between clusters of aspen trees.

As if the cabins and surroundings were not already relaxing enough, a wooden walkway between Lodgepole and Cottonwood led to an enclosed hot tub set back from the cabins. French doors formed the entrance to this luxury, beckoning from the top of cascading stone steps.

I reluctantly left the cabin and headed into Afton for something to eat, knowing restaurants in small towns usually close up early. Given an excellent suggestion by Rhonda, I followed her directions to the far side of town, where I pulled up in front of a red, converted barn, its porch speckled with antiques and custom built furniture.

Clearly a favorite of locals, Hegg’s Grillin’ Barn offered a good assortment of burgers, sandwiches and entrees and, should there be room for a little something extra, a freezer full of assorted ice cream flavors. The décor was just downright adorable, from the booth backs with barn and silo scenes to the assorted Americana plaques and knick knacks on the walls. To make the place even more unique, the upstairs area served as a shop for Amish furniture, some of which was displayed on the front porch – for very reasonable prices, at that.

I ate half of a mushroom, swiss and avocado sandwich and packed the second half to go, returning as quickly as possible to enjoy a full evening in the cabin. Sunset was lingering on the horizon as I drove back to Dry Creek Rd, casting a faint pink hue across the tips of the pine trees.

The cabin had satellite television, but that was about the extent of communication ties with the rest of the world. With no cell service and no Internet access, I was a little beside myself. What was I supposed to do? It didn’t take long to figure that out. I sauntered up to the hot tub and soaked away my technological withdrawal.

I’m road-traveled enough to keep some sort of supplies on hand. I pulled my travel coffeemaker from the car, ground some French Roast beans and set it up for the morning. I managed to scavenger up an apple scone from a recent grocery run and placed that by the coffee maker, too. Morning was covered.

Rob and Rhonda have built a labor of love in the creation of these accommodations. With the exception of electrical installations, the work of building the cabins was all theirs. Attention to detail is evident in every regard, from the artfully crafted log structures themselves to the leaf-design metalwork that holds the hand carved cabin names on each front porch.

The fact that these hand-built cabins are available for overnight lodging is a gift to the fortunate travelers who happen to pass through. The peaceful location, the rustling of the aspens, the tumbling waters of the creek: these are all bonuses. And the hot tub’s pretty wonderful, too.