Confessions of a winter camping newbie.
I peed before crawling into my tent, but some of that smokey-pine-needle-snow tea I was drinking hadn’t made it to my bladder.
Now it’s 2 am, and it’s alllll there.
It’ll be at least three more hours before I can justifiably get up for the day.
Frozen boots on bare feet, forget about the laces. Stumble into snow-covered darkness, find a tree to lean on and pee. Pee like the wind, muttering obscenities under my breath along with words like “cold” and “freezing”. Hustle back to the tent. Pull bare feet from boots, and struggle to put the insoles back in place. Why do the insoles always come out of my boots when I wear them in bare feet? Must be the moisture. Now shaking violently from the cold, grasping for the opening of the sleeping bag and hoping the Nalgene with the hot water I put in it is still warm at my feet. It’s tepid, which is a lot warmer than outside. I’ll take it.
The temperature hovers around -12 Celsius, which doesn’t sound very cold, but when I get home (I do survive this expedition) I learn that my sleeping bag has a comfort rating of -2. Turns out the “-9” that’s stitched on the side of my MEC sleeping bag is an emergency rating.
Thanks a lot, ya dicks.
I drift in and out of sleep until morning.
The worst part about winter camping, apart from having to pee in the night, is climbing out of bed in the morning and attempting to get dressed and put on my frozen boots. Once my body has emerged from the semi-warm sleeping bag, it’s a rush to awkwardly pull on my pants and do up my belt as my fingers begin to go numb. The frozen boots stubbornly refuse to bend to my will. My feet bend instead.
I think about how my father-in-law has warned me about the frozen boots thing. Years ago, he told me about a survival course he took while training to be a bush pilot. He had to build a survival shelter in the winter, and it dropped down to minus 40. His boots froze in the night, and he had to go out in his socks and start a fire in order to heat up his boots enough to put them on.
My situation is hardly comparable, but I imagine that it is and I feel the warmth of aspirational identity course through my veins. I’m winter camping, after all. My gaiters are difficult to zip up, but I know it’s for the best to just put them on right away. I’ve got firewood to collect.
Jeeze, do I ever feel like an old man. I catch myself grunting, and hope the two other guys in the camp don’t think I’m as out of shape as I really am. My back hurts and the rest of my body is stiff. Gotta get moving. I think about coffee and squatting next to a small, growing fire.
By the time I’ve taken my morning pee and penguin footed my way down to the cold fire pit, I’m feeling semi-ready. My new Fiskars hatchet is right where I left it. I knock a small bundle of deadwood off a standing pine and build a bundle big enough to get things going.
Once a fire is burning enough to be neglected momentarily, and you’re holding a hot coffee, the day has begun and winter camping is a positive thing again. At least when the weather is as beautiful as it is today; -12c, and the sun is shining.
We take a day hike to a nearby lookout, eat dried mangos and gorp, and cook our meals. Boiling snow into water for drinking and cooking is a primary activity.
The second night is an improvement. Apart from three tiny sips of warm water, and a couple of draws from my whiskey flask, I quit drinking an hour and a half before bed.
Not only do I pour boiling water into my Nalgene, as I did on the first night. I also put the Nalgene inside two wool socks like my camping pal, Keith, suggested. And he is a pal - my water bottle stays warm all night. I’m more careful about placing my down vest around my feet and wear a thin pair of socks. My feet stay warm all night and I don’t have to get up to pee.
I’m catching on to this winter camping thing.
Maybe next time I’ll keep in mind what my father-in-law said: sleep with your boots inside your sleeping bag, so they don’t freeze.
Some other key takeaways
Break deadwood by placing it between two trees and cracking it, rather than smashing it off a log. Smashing things in the bush is dangerous. Keith warned me, and he’s right
A hatchet is a great piece of equipment - especially in winter
If you want to bring in a sled, rather than a backpack, make sure you inform your camping buddies and save yourself the embarrassment of awkwardly dragging a big sled behind you on a rough hiking trail. Tie your stuff down, so you don’t lose it on the trail and have to run back for it
Cast iron frying pan on an open fire is a fantastic way to cook meat
A small camp chair is real nice
Check over your gear before you go - my snowshoes didn’t feel 100% and I finally realized the spikes were bent upwards on the left side, rendering them nearly useless on ice
It’s a good idea to stay in somewhat decent physical shape before hiking into the woods to camp for a couple of days
Backcountry camping during the winter isn’t a whole lot different than in the summer - it pays off to previsualize and plan according to the weather