The Snowblower Bandit And Other Stories

Winter Camping

My friends on Twitter are often subjected to stories about my outdoor excursions. Living in Wisconsin, one type of camping experience I developed a liking for is winter camping. I now feel very comfortable heading off in sub-zero (Fahrenheit) weather with a sled full of gear and sleeping in a hammock for a couple nights. Of course, there's quite a learning curve with an activity like that.

You see, I'm incurably curious, and I love new experiences. One day I heard about people camping in the middle of winter, and I couldn't get the idea out of my head. I got questions about how I got started doing it from my Twitter peeps, so I wrote this story about my first experience.

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I've been promising the story of my first winter camping experience for a while, so...

I was 16. I've always hated comfort zones, so no matter how much I hate an idea, I'll force myself to try it. Camping mid-winter was one of those things. But who to go with?

I scoured the interwebs for info on camping sub-zero in a hammock. I found a forum about it, and since it was anonymous, everyone assumed I was a middle aged guy. Great! No being talked to like a child. Everyone used a trail name. Mine was "BS."

As in "Brightstar," of course, but that's not what they thought.

I got that trail name because I used to memorize poetry in lieu of being able to use a cell phone to entertain myself deep in the woods. On one particular trip I memorized the John Keats sonnet, "Brightstar, would I were steadfast as thou art."

On the forum, I learned about tarps with "door flaps" to keep out wind and made myself one out of factory "seconds" silnylon that I bought cheap online. I learned about under insulation for hammocks so your body weight doesn't compress it, and I saved up for a good "under quilt."

I learned about top insulation, and I bought a down mummy bag on ebay for $5 (because it had a broken zipper that I didn't need). I turned it into a "top quilt." I learned about digging a trench underneath the hammock, making hot water bottles out of Nalgenes filled with boiling water...all sorts of stuff!

I bought some $10 wool army-surplus pants and white mukluks. Finally, I made myself a thick wool poncho from a blanket passed down from my great-grandmother. It had a couple holes in it, and it had languished in our basement for years. Best part? It was pink and baby-blue!

Natural fibers like wool keep you warm even if you get wet. Plus, wool won't melt if you're standing too close to a fire and trying to cook over it.

There were three guys that I met online who went camping near me every year. They would follow devil-forsaken truck trails as far as they could into the deep woods of Northern Wisconsin or the UP of Michigan, then pull a sled full of gear while snowshoeing miles deeper into the wilderness.

The point was to be as far away from civilization as possible. If you've never camped before in a place like this, you might think being in the deep woods is dangerous. It's not...usually. In the winter, it's a whole different story. Get wet, get frostbite, hurt yourself, get lost...you're in trouble.

These guys went by the names WolfTracker, CamoEvil, and Sniper. What pics they had posted showed they were all mid 30's to mid 40's, had a fetish for army-surplus, and always brought multiple guns camping with them. Conversations online let me know they had more in common with militia-types than with me.

Yeah, yeah. I know. I reasoned that these guys weren't expecting a 16 year old girl, so they obviously weren't planning anything. Two were family guys. Besides, I've lived around guys like this everyday growing up. I certainly don't agree with them on most things, but I don't have the threat perception many people do.

The day came. I took off on Friday morning telling my mom something about staying with friends for the weekend, then took off with a map and compass, (I didn't have my Garmin yet, and it was too far out for my phone's GPS) and a wood hauling sled full of gear in my Jeep.

I thought I was lost a few times, but managed to pick up their snowshoe trail as they crossed over a frozen lake. It was already -10F, but the lake had soft spots from springs that fed it. I almost went in a couple times. After about 6 miles of hard going, I finally saw smoke from their fire.

When one of them spotted me I heard, "Hello there!" As I got closer, they fell completely silent. They sat there watching a smallish pink, white, and baby-blue bundle struggle up the hill to their campsite, then stand there, sweaty and smiling.

"Hey!"

They kept looking back and forth between me and my sled. Finally, one said, "B*ll Sh*t?" I smiled as friendly as I could and said, "Brightstar!" They all tilted their heads back and gave a silent, "Oh, that makes sense," look.

I got a very paternal interrogation about whether or not I was 'really ready for this,' and all the warnings about winter camping at -20F or lower. I think it was one part protectiveness, and one part realization that if a sixteen year old girl could wander off on her own and do this, then they weren't as bad-butt as they thought.

Over the weekend, they warmed up to me somewhat. There were lots of awkward silences, though.

"Would you like some bacon?"

"No thank you. I'm vegan."

They gave me a blank stare.

"You're missing your Winterfest Dance? There must be some guy with a broken heart back home."

"Nah, I'm gay."

They gave me a blank stare.

"It's hypocritical for a 'militia' to take over a wildlife refuge and keep people out to protest the government deciding how people use it."

"We had friends at Malheur."

I gave them a blank stare.

Overall, it was a great weekend. We cut a lot of wood, went on hikes, and they taught me a lot about tracking, flora, and fauna. Have you seen the trails porcupines make going back and forth between trees in the deep snow? So cool!

Being in nature in the dead of winter is magical. The frost on the inside of your tarp from your breath when you wake up is beautiful, and leaning over the side of your hammock to make morning coffee while admiring the view of snow covered trees is luxurious.

I got the feeling I was kind of a mascot after the first day, and they kept saying things like, "Good for you!" and "At least some kids still do more than play video games." Sunday afternoon we headed out, and I still talk to them once in a while online.

When I got back to phone-tower range, my phone blew up with parental messages.

"Where the h#ll are you?!"

"Who are you with?"

"You're grounded until you go gray!"

I completely understood, so I took my punishments with grace.

But...I regret nothing!