All the beautiful picture posted by those fortunate enough to live up north reminded me of a story. I hope you enjoy it.
I have never been a fan of crowds or bugs. And, I loved the winter months for the beauty of the snow and ice and the way everything just felt so clean. This insane point of view led me enjoy the wonder of winter camping.
Devils Lake State Park in Wisconsin is a beautiful place to be in summer and even more so in winter. I and another young buck camped there and had a wonderful time. No bugs, few people and absolute beauty everywhere.
In the center of the park is a beautiful lake filled with fish. Surrounding the lake, more or less, are rock walls where climbers would practice and hone their skills. There was also a trail of sorts that led to the highest points of the rock formations. The surrounding view from there was breathtaking, at least for a city guy from Chicago.
Well, I happend to mention to a friend, Bob, who lived in Kenosha, WI, that Devils Lake was a great place for winter camping. He said he'd never camped in the winter before and asked if we could try it. So, a couple of weeks later Bob, his teenage son and I took off for Devils Lake.
My gear consisted of a four man White Stag tent and a 3 pound Coleman sleeping bag. I had a few pair of very heavy nordic style wool socks, a good down parka and Navy knit cap. Also wore a great pair of Vasque boots and some good gloves. Whenebver I went winter camping, I spread a couple of Army blankets on the tent floor and brought another to put on top of me. I was always snug as a bug in a rug.
I don't remember the year of this trip with Bob, but I do remember we spent the night of December 18, the longest night of that year, camping in at least two feet of snow. Well, Bob, his son and I sat around a nice campfire that evening and ate Doritos while listening to a Blackhawk's hockey game on the radio. When the game was over, Bob's son turned in and plopped himself in the middle of the tent, where he would be flanked by two warm bodies. Smart kid. An hour or so later, Bob and I joinded him and, with little conversation, I went to sleep. I think it was around midnight.
At about 2:30 AM or so, nature called and I needed to make a short trip into the woods. I got my boots out of the tent's vestibule, knocked the snow and ice off and got dressed. When I returned from my nature call and was getting back into my sleeping bag Bob asked how I was doing. I said I was great. He then asked what time it was and I told him 2:45. Well, Bob moaned and said he was freezing to death. He said everytime he began to fall asleep, his toes hurt so bad he had to bend over and rub them to try to warm them. Bob was an older guy and maybe had circulation problems. I loaned Bob a pair of extra nordic socks and assumed he'd be okay going forward. I then went back to sleep.
About three hours passed and I turned over in my bag. Bod asked if I was awake and then asked what time it was. I looked at my watch and saw it was 6:45 or so. I then saw an opportunity to play a joke on old Bob. I told him it was 3:30. You should have heard the moan he let loose.
