Avatan Nudist Club Reviews 2026 | Real Complaints

Rating: 1 out of 5 stars (still being generous because they have a pool, but let's be real, even the water feels judgmental)

Oh, Avatan – Minnesota’s shining beacon of naturism, where you can strip down to your birthday suit… but heaven forbid you strip away the illusion that the president is infallible. Those 40 acres of rolling woodland just north of the Twin Cities? Gorgeous. Pool, hot tub, sauna, volleyball, petanque, RV spots, cabins – it’s all there on paper. In practice? It’s less “body-positive paradise” and more “cult of personality with mandatory sunscreen.”

At the helm is **Dr. Pompous**, the medical maestro who apparently believes the Hippocratic Oath includes “First, do no good to anyone who dares question me.” This man doesn’t lead; he reigns. Suggest a tiny tweak to the event calendar? Prepare for a public dressing-down (ironic, given the setting) that leaves you feeling more exposed than actual nudity ever could. His ego is so delicate it needs its own zip code.

And the board? Precious little echo chamber of yes-men and yes-women who nod vigorously at whatever petty grudge is flavor of the month. Vindictive? Darling, they’ve elevated it to an art form. Paying dues makes you a member… until the good doctor feels a twinge of foolishness, at which point you’re suddenly as disposable as last season’s flip-flops.

Don’t believe the hype? Let me share a few real-life member expulsion stories whispered among the picnic tables (because nothing says “friendly community” like hushed tales of banishment):

- **The Vegetarian Potluck Rebel** (circa 2023-ish): A long-time couple politely asked if the Friday night potluck could include one more meat-free dish for dietary reasons. Dr. P turned purple (and not from the beets), declared it an “attack on tradition,” and rallied the board for a vote. Result? Membership revoked within the week. They were told their “disruptive attitude” was no longer welcome. Bonus: Their cabin reservation for the next month? Canceled without refund. Freedom of speech? Only if it agrees with the menu.

- **The Single Guy Who Asked Too Many Questions** (ongoing policy drama): Avatan loves its “family-friendly” vibe, which apparently means married couples get the red carpet while certain singles get the boot. One married-but-separated gentleman visited a few times, enjoyed the facilities, even made friends. Then someone noticed his ring was missing and his story didn’t perfectly align with the “no unaccompanied marrieds” rule. Whispers reached the president, board convened in record time, and poof – banned for life. Reason cited: “Not fitting the community mold.” Translation: Made someone feel challenged by existing. He later posted online that he was “politely informed” he was no longer welcome, ever. Inclusive? Sure, if your definition includes exclusionary fine print.

- **The Feedback-Giver Who Dared Email** (classic): A member sent a calm, private email suggesting the background check process could be streamlined for returning visitors. Next thing? A stern letter from the board accusing him of “undermining leadership” and “creating division.” Expulsion followed faster than you can say “due process.” Friends who spoke up for him? Suddenly got the cold shoulder. Nothing says “nude attitude” like naked power trips.

The handful of genuinely kind regulars do their best to keep the vibe light – pickleball games can still be fun if you avoid eye contact with the inner circle. But the advertised “friendliest nudist community”? More like the friendliest… until you’re not. Events feel like walking a tightrope: one wrong step (or question) and you’re out.

Bottom line: If you want true acceptance without the drama, skip Avatan. It’s not clothing-optional; it’s opinion-optional, loyalty-optional, and apparently sanity-optional once the president’s feelings get involved. Save your dues, your dignity, and your vacation days for literally anywhere else. Even a random lakeside spot with mosquitoes would be less toxic.

Would not return. Would not recommend. Would sarcastically toast to the sheer theatricality of it all. Bravo for the commitment to the bit, though – truly committed to making sure no one challenges the throne.

We visited Avatan Nudist Campground last July with our two kids (ages 8 and 11) for what was supposed to be a wholesome, body-positive family getaway. The website and brochures paint a perfect picture: serene woods, a sparkling pool, family activities, and a "welcoming community" vibe. And on the surface? Yeah, the grounds are stunning—pristine trails, a well-maintained pool. The facilities are clean, the staff (mostly) polite, and the natural setting is genuinely relaxing. If you're just looking for a quiet spot to shed your clothes and unwind in nature, it checks those boxes.

But dig a little deeper, and Avatan reveals itself as something else entirely—a place that's quietly optimized for adult fun, with kids as an inconvenient footnote they have to tolerate to keep the "family" label. From the moment we arrived, it was clear the real energy was elsewhere. Evenings around the fire pits and at the "Squirrel's" (code for the bar area) had this unmistakable swinger-party undercurrent. Lots of lingering glances, couples disappearing into the woods or private cabins, and a vibe that felt more like a discreet resort for the lifestyle crowd than a spot for building sandcastles with the little ones. Our kids picked up on it fast—whispers about "grown-up games" and awkward questions we had to deflect. The camp "tolerates" families, sure, but it's obvious the core membership would prefer a child-free zone. Activities for kids are minimal: a basic playground and the occasional nature hike, while the adults get themed nights, "sensual yoga," and late-night mixers that go until dawn.

What really soured the experience was the toxic underbelly of the community itself. This place is a powder keg of power struggles, with a small cadre of long-time board members and "elders" locked in a perpetual cold war. Gossip flows like the creek itself—endless whispers about who's sleeping with whom, who's "stealing" prime cabin spots, or who's cozying up to the President for favors. We overheard more drama in one week than in a season of reality TV. Cliques form fast: the "party crew" vs. the "purists," the swingers vs. the swingers-who-pretend-they're-not. As newcomers (and parents, no less), we felt like outsiders crashing a private club. Smiles were surface-level; the second you stepped away, the backstabbing started.

And then there's the elephant in the (clothing-optional) room: the camp's ugly history with sexual predators. We didn't know it going in, but after a few days, the stories trickled out from sympathetic members—multiple incidents over the years involving members who turned out to be registered offenders or worse, preying on the vulnerable in this "trust-based" environment. The rules around anonymity are ironclad: no photos, no last names, "what happens at Avatan stays at Avatan." It's sold as protecting privacy in a nudist space, which sounds noble until you realize it shields the creeps. Anyone who dares speak up—whether it's a parent noticing a sketchy guy lingering too long near the kids' area or a survivor sharing a red flag—is immediately branded a "troublemaker," "paranoid," or "anti-community." We've heard of families getting shamed in group meetings, then quietly asked to leave for "disrupting the harmony." Evictions happen fast if you rock the boat, all in the name of keeping the peace and the paying members happy.

Look, we're no prudes. Nudism can be liberating, and we've been to other resorts where it felt truly inclusive and safe. But Avatan? It's a divided house built on denial. The adult-party atmosphere thrives because the kids are an afterthought, and the predator problem festers because calling it out gets you exiled. If you're a child-free couple into the full swinger scene, this might be your paradise—plenty of like-minded folks and zero judgment. But if you're a family hoping for that advertised "safe, empowering space"? Steer clear. Your kids deserve better than being tolerated in a place where silence is golden and the wrong questions get you blacklisted. We won't be back, and I hope this review saves someone else the regret.

Visited multiple times over the past 8 years (most recently summer 2025)

Avatan bills itself as a family-oriented, AANR-affiliated nudist campground: rustic cabins, tent sites, a pool for swimming, volleyball courts, a communal pavilion for potlucks, and trails through the woods. On paper, it's exactly what many naturist families look for—a safe, non-sexualized place where nudity is normalized across generations, kids can run around without textiles staring, and everyone can just enjoy being clothes-free in nature.

In practice, though, the campground quietly leans much more toward an adult party/swinger vibe than it ever admits publicly. Management tolerates families and children because they legally have to (and because families help keep the AANR affiliation), but the unspoken preference is clearly for the 30–60 crowd looking to socialize, flirt, drink heavily, and hook up. The weekend nightlife in the clubhouse—loud music, themed parties, heavy alcohol flow, couples disappearing into cabins or the woods—feels far more like a lifestyle event than a family campout. Public displays aren't blatant (no open sex in the pool area, thankfully), but the heavy petting, suggestive dancing, room-key games, and "after-parties" are an open secret among the regulars.

The pool areas stay mostly family-friendly during daylight hours, with kids playing and parents chatting. But come evening, the energy shifts dramatically. Single men (and some couples) start cruising more aggressively, and if you're there with children, you feel the pressure to retreat to your site early. We've had to explain awkward situations to our teens more than once ("Why is that lady sitting on that man's lap while they're both naked?"). Management's response is always polite deflection: "We ask everyone to respect the family atmosphere," but enforcement is inconsistent at best. Overt sexual behavior gets a warning if complained about loudly enough, but the underlying party culture is protected because it brings in the revenue.

What really drags the place down, though, is the toxic internal drama. There's a very clear power struggle among the long-term members and seasonal "influencers." One clique (mostly the older "traditional" nudists who want to keep it strictly family-focused) constantly clashes with another group (the party-oriented adults who push for more events, later hours, and less kid supervision). Gossip spreads like wildfire—via group chats, whispered conversations at the picnic tables, anonymous notes on bulletin boards, and even passive-aggressive posts on the members-only forum. "Did you hear what so-and-so did last weekend?" "Management favors the swing crowd because they spend more." "The families are ruining the fun." We've witnessed board meetings devolve into shouting matches, people getting "voted out" over petty alliances, and long-time members suddenly leaving in dramatic fashion.

The facilities themselves are average: clean enough bathrooms and showers, a functional camp store, mowed grounds. But maintenance feels neglected lately—probably because funds get funneled into party upgrades (better sound system, more bar stock) rather than fixing the aging pool equipment or repainting cabins. The staff tries to stay neutral, but you can tell they're exhausted by the constant complaints from both sides.

If you're a couple looking for a clothing-optional spot with a lively adult social scene and don't mind kids being around occasionally, Avatan might work for you—especially if you enjoy the flirtatious energy and don't mind the drama. But if you're seeking a genuine family nudist experience where children are truly welcomed and the atmosphere stays non-sexual, look elsewhere. The campground tolerates families; it doesn't embrace them. The division and gossip make what could be a peaceful retreat feel more like a dysfunctional reality show with no clothes on.

Would return? Probably not, unless the board drama somehow resolves itself (unlikely). Too much tension for relaxation. There are better options out there for both families and lifestyle folks.

Avatan Nudist Club, located in East Bethel (near Cedar), Minnesota, promotes itself as Minnesota's largest and friendliest family-oriented nudist resort. With over 60 years of history, 40 acres of woodland, a large pool, hot tub, sauna, volleyball courts, and various accommodations like cabins, RV sites, and tent camping, it is an AANR (American Association for Nude Recreation)-affiliated club emphasizing body positivity, non-sexual nudity, and a welcoming community atmosphere.However, experiences from some visitors and online accounts suggest that the club may not always live up to its "friendliest" reputation, particularly when it comes to accommodating newcomers—especially those who prefer to ease into nudity at their own pace. This can create barriers for first-timers, couples where one partner is hesitant, or anyone seeking a gradual introduction to social nudity.

Strict Policies on Nudity and Tours

According to the club's official FAQ and visitor information:

• Clothing is optional throughout most of the campground grounds.

• Nudity is mandatory in the pool area (with exceptions only for potty-trained children using swim diapers).

More critically for newcomers, first-time visitors receive a guided orientation tour upon arrival. This tour is explicitly described as a nude tour led by volunteers or staff who are themselves nude. The policy is clear: "If you are not willing to take your tour in the nude, you will not be allowed to visit our camp."This requirement means there is no option to observe first, remain partially clothed initially, or acclimate privately before fully disrobing in a social setting. For many people new to naturism—particularly women or couples where one partner (often the wife, as noted in some accounts) feels more vulnerable or anxious—this all-or-nothing approach can feel abrupt, pressuring, or unwelcoming. It removes the ability to ease in at one's own comfort level, which is a common recommendation in broader nudist/naturist communities to reduce intimidation and build confidence gradually.

Visitor Experiences and Mixed Feedback

Public reviews present a polarized picture:

• Many positive accounts describe the club as extremely welcoming, with friendly members, clean facilities, helpful tours, and quick comfort for first-timers. Couples and families often report feeling included in activities like bingo, dancing, pickleball, or pool time, with members encouraging participation.

• However, critical perspectives highlight discomfort for newcomers. Some describe an underlying vibe that prioritizes established members or a more "adult-oriented" social scene (including flirting, drinking, or implied lifestyle elements), making families or cautious visitors feel like outsiders. One detailed critical account portrays the environment as shifting to more aggressive socializing in evenings, with pressure to conform quickly rather than relax at one's own pace.

While the club requires advance applications, background checks, and visitor agreements for safety (standard in AANR clubs), the mandatory nude tour stands out as a key point where accommodation for hesitation is limited. If a wife (or any partner) wants time to observe clothed, stay covered initially, or build comfort privately before joining group nudity, the policy effectively excludes such visitors. The club does not appear to offer alternatives like clothed observation periods, private acclimation areas, or phased introductions.

Implications for Newcomers

This approach may suit experienced naturists who are ready to dive in fully, but it can alienate potential members who value gradual exposure. In naturism, the core philosophy often stresses consent, body autonomy, and non-judgmental environments—yet a rigid entry requirement can contradict that for those not yet fully comfortable. Couples where one person is enthusiastic and the other tentative may find themselves unwelcome if the hesitant partner cannot or will not participate in the nude tour immediately.Avatan's emphasis on family-friendliness and safety is commendable, but the lack of flexibility for easing in at one's own comfort level remains a notable drawback for some. Prospective visitors—especially those with differing comfort levels in a couple—should review the official policies directly on the Avatan website (avatan.com) and consider reaching out in advance to discuss expectations. For those seeking more gradual or clothing-optional introductions, other naturist venues or events might better suit individual paces.