A Small A-Frame That Feels Bigger Than It Should

Two outdoor people fell for a triangle and built one that actually works for real life. The shell came as a kit; the soul is all their own.

The Triangle They Couldn’t Stop Thinking About

From the outside, it reads bold and simple. Inside, the ceiling shoots up and the shape suddenly feels generous in a way that doesn’t make sense on paper. It’s the kind of room where you breathe a little deeper without noticing.

They didn’t start from raw lumber; they ordered a prefab kit from a company in Bel Air and had it shipped in. Smart move, because that frame is tall, and getting the outside built by a pro kept the scary stuff safe and square.

The height is a whole thing—you look up and your neck tilts on instinct. No wonder they brought in an entrepreneur just to raise the shell. Once the triangle stood on its own, they took the reins.

The Part No One Warns You About

They thought an A-frame would be the “easy” path. Turns out, modern building rules aren’t the 1960s, and finding someone who knows the quirks takes patience. Also worth saying out loud: it isn’t cheaper. The triangle tax is real.

From the outside it looks huge; inside, it’s 950 square feet with the loft included. Sloped walls steal corners, so every inch has to do a job. It’s compact, but the shape tricks your brain in a nice way.

Plywood Everywhere (in a Good Way)

Walk in and the materials tell you what they’re about. Plywood wraps the walls and shows up again as shelves, benches, built-ins—most of it cut and sanded at home. It feels warm and a little industrious, like the place is proud of its screws.

They leaned into contrast: pale wood against clean shiplap, little hits of black to ground it. Three colors, tops. The cabin stays calm so the outside can shout.

Hooks, a Hidden Room, and Then That View

The entry is practical on purpose—bench to sit and fight your boots, a small army of hooks for winter layers. These two spend a lot of time outside and it shows. The mess has places to land.

There’s a secret tucked in the hallway. A plain door swings and—surprise—laundry. Small, stealthy, exactly where you need it.

Past that, the whole thing opens up and the A-frame finally flexes. Glass, trees, light—zero drama, just the good kind of wow.

The Kitchen That Doesn’t Waste a Step

It’s tiny, but not precious. Full-size fridge, stove, dishwasher, all in a tight triangle that makes cooking feel quick. Nothing fancy, everything works.

No upper cabinets, which keeps the sightlines clean. Storage tucks below the counters and along the sides, so you still get space for plates, spices, the random gadgets people always bring to cabins.

The Dinner Bench With a Secret

The dining nook is quietly the best idea here. They built the table and the bench themselves, and it seats six without crowding the room. Feels like a restaurant booth that grew up.

Sit on the bench and you get a straight shot through the windows. Eating with a forest backdrop makes Tuesday pasta feel like a special occasion.

Lift the bench and there’s storage waiting—board games, blankets, the stuff that always floats around a cabin. The whole space stays minimalist on purpose so your eyes keep drifting outside.

Fire, Books, and Zero TV

The living room keeps it simple: a few comfy seats, a stack of books, and a wood stove that anchors the room. Main heat is electric baseboards, but the fire is the vibe. Snow outside, hot chocolate inside—easy to picture.

The stove has a big glass window so you can actually watch the flames, and it’s lifted just enough to stash a proper pile of firewood underneath. Practical, a little dramatic, and very cabin-core.

Even the chimney doubles as a design move, clean and vertical against the angles. It’s from a Montreal maker, which feels right for a place that likes local. No TV anywhere—people end up talking to each other again, which is the point.

That Spiral Staircase Was Non‑Negotiable

Right in the middle, a black spiral stair pulls your eye. It saves a ton of floor space, acts like sculpture, and still lets light slip through. One of those choices that makes the whole place feel intentional.

The Loft Stays Open on Purpose

Up top, the loft spreads out more than you expect—tall ceiling, windows framing the trees, the A-frame geometry showing off. It’s where the triangle makes the most sense.

They debated closing it in and went with a half wall instead. Better views, better air, better mornings. The footprint runs about 22 feet by 10, which is plenty for lounging without bumping elbows.

Bunks Done the Clever Way

Back downstairs by the entrance, the second bedroom packs in three sleepers without feeling like camp. Custom bunk with a queen on the bottom and a single up top—smart for families, or friends who draw straws.

The Shower They Built the Hard Way

The bathroom keeps the same no-fuss vibe but sneaks in a showstopper: an Italian-style shower with concrete walls they finished themselves. It took time and patience and probably a few deep breaths, but the result looks rock-solid.

Heat runs underfoot in both the bathroom and the hallway, which your toes will notice before your brain does. Storage tucks cleanly under the sink so towels don’t end up migrating.

Where the Triangle Opens to the Trees

Outside is the hangout zone—a full-width balcony that stretches across the front of the A-frame. It’s the kind of spot you wander to for five minutes and stay an hour without meaning to.