If löyly is the first word you need to know in sauna, vihta is the second — though in Finland it’s sometimes called vasta depending on what part of the country you’re from. Same thing, either word. A small bundle of fresh birch twigs, leaves still attached, bound at one end with twine. You dip it in warm water until it softens. Then you use it on your skin — gently, rhythmically — while the löyly rises off the stones.
This is the part that sounds strange to people who haven’t done it. You beat yourself with branches? Yes, but that’s the wrong word. Whisk is closer. The motion is light, almost caressing. It moves warm air against your skin, improves circulation, brings the heat closer. And birch does something no other wood does: when wet, it releases a smell that is somehow both sharp and sweet, green and ancient. One session with a fresh vihta and you understand why it’s been part of the ritual for a thousand years.
Where it comes from
In Finland and Estonia, vihtas are harvested in midsummer — late June into early July, depending on the year — when the leaves are young and tender and the branches are still supple. They’re bound on the spot, usually by people who have been doing this their whole lives. Some are used fresh that day. The rest are dried in the shade or frozen for winter.
When a dried vihta hits warm water for the first time in November, the whole sauna smells like July.
Why this is hard in New York
Birch grows here — you can find it in Central Park, along the Hudson, in the Catskills. But harvesting for commercial use is largely illegal, and harvesting in most parks will get you a ticket or worse. Some Finns and Estonians in the area bring vihtas back in their suitcases. Others have a cousin who ships them frozen, vacuum-packed. Most just go without, and accept that one part of the ritual is missing here.
The NYC sauna places that do offer a vihta — I can count the ones I’ve heard about on one hand — usually charge extra and keep them behind the counter. You ask. Often the answer is no. Sometimes the answer is yes, and you pay $20-30, and for ten minutes you are somewhere else entirely. The reality is that usually when vihta is being used, is in home conditions, at your own home sauna, or at friends.
How to use one, if you find one
Wet it slowly. Soak it in warm (not hot) water for a few minutes — you want the leaves soft and pliable, not brittle. Take it into the sauna with you.
The motion isn’t a slap. It’s a rhythmic brushing, usually across the shoulders, down the back, along the legs. Gentle. The point is airflow and aroma, not force. If someone else is using it on you, they know. If you’re using it on yourself, err on the lighter side. You’re not trying to hurt anything. Though in Estonian we say “Vihaga peksma”, it translates to english “beating with anger”, though we don’t mean it like that.
After the round, rinse it. Hang it somewhere airy to dry. A good vihta can be used two or three times if you treat it well. After that it starts to shed leaves and the smell fades.
Why we made it the logo
The saunaroots mark is a vihta — seven twigs, a bound base, a handle. Not a stove, not a thermometer, not steam. The whisk.
It’s the oldest object in the sauna. Older than the stove, probably. A bundle of what was growing outside, brought inside, and used to move heat across skin. Every part of the ritual is downstream of that gesture.
If you find a reliable source of vihtas in New York — a shop, a Finnish import store, someone’s cousin with a summerhouse and a freezer — send a note. This is the kind of thing that has to spread by word of mouth.
