Winter camp. I won't say it's
completely out of my system – I've enjoyed some interesting
adventure out there, but I'm glad I did it then because I don't know
it's something I'd start doing now. Some has been a means to an
end, a way to reach backcountry deer hunting or remote ice fishing
that few others would bother to reach, but other winter camps were
strictly just for the “doing it.”
A ticking woodstove in a canvas wall
tent with companions seems luxurious where a solo cold camp might
deem successful by not freezing to death. Either way, snug in a deep
sleeping bag listening to howling wolves through thin tent walls on a still winter night
is something you won't forget.
Getting there usually involves hiking or skiing decent trails or crossing a frozen lake or two but it once took two days to find a destination lake that I thought I'd reach in hours. Heavy snow surprised me – my snowshoes sunk deep with each step and the sled I pulled became heavier each mile. I lost the trail several times in the thick forest and had to “dead reckon” or backtrack. I finally got there, exhausted, but made a comfortable camp, ate well, slept well in a plush bag, and had an easy return on my broken trail. It took so long to get there I only had a little time for fishing, but I did see a moose on the way out. All for the sake of winter camping.
Yes, I'm looking for Spring!
