Page Text: Cold Toes Mean Camping Woes
Winter Camping for Beginners
Brittany Burridge
Our home for the night. (Benjamin Burridge)
The truck headlights cut through the night and highlight the erratic snowfall. The tarp flaps aggressively in the wind; my brother fights alone to tie it down as I am clueless with knots. He tries to explain his use of barrel knots, bowlines, and a clove hitch. I remind myself to study up on knot tying for my next winter camping attempt, but I’m distracted—my toes are numb. Am I wearing one too many pairs of socks?
The season of winter camping has arrived. Being a camping and winter lover myself, I decided 2020 was the year to experience tenting in the cold. I called my 24-year-old brother, Benjamin Burridge, searching for a wilderness buddy.
“Have you ever been camping in winter before?” I asked.
“Nope. Have you?” he asked back.
“Nope.”
So, we set a date to go camping in Waiparous for the first Saturday of November. The forecast called for -9 Celsius and predicted a drop to -14 overnight.
After a day of snowboarding, we drove two hours from Lake Louise and got to our campsite around 5 pm— the sun set ten minutes later. The wind seemed to blow harder as the sky became darker. There were four sturdy trees that were perfect to tie our tarp to, but finding them was the easy part. We tried to judge where the wind was pushing the snow, but the wet flakes were coming from all directions. I held the tarp down as Ben worked to tie knots, but the wind occasionally ripped the material from my mitten-clad fingers. As he tied and re-tied the ropes, I focused on moving my legs and cursed myself for bringing cheap winter boots.
Clayton Hutchings, 31, is an experienced winter camper and hunter of 10 years. His lesson about the importance of proper footwear was unforgettable.
On one excursion, Hutchings’ truck got stuck in a layer of water and ice. His cowboy boots filled with water as he broke ice away from the tires. His feet were wet but not cold, and his body was warm. He took off his boots and continued with only a pair of thick wool socks covering his feet. An hour later, Hutchings’ truck was free. He climbed in to warm his feet and change his socks but realized the skin was numb from his ankle down and coloured a waxy, blotchy white— the bottoms of his feet were covered in mud-filled lacerations. They swelled past the point of fitting into boots. He feared frostbite and drove to the emergency room.
A doctor said he had immersion foot, also known as trench foot, caused by his extended exposure to water. A few minutes in the water made Hutchings lose his ability to judge his feet’s temperature, and he had stepped on sharp rocks and twigs. A week later, the swelling subsided enough to wear shoes again. However, he didn’t regain full feeling until three months later.
“I put myself in an extremely compromising situation that could have been easily avoided by being prepared with proper footwear or paying closer attention to my body,” Hutchings said.
Bruce Zawalsky has taught winter survival skills for over 25 years. He said when socks get wet, and feet get cold, we refrain from taking off our shoes and warming up our feet. Roughly 75 per cent of frostbite happens to our feet because we don’t want to expose them to cold air if they’re already cold.
“They don’t want to change their socks or do whatever they have to do to make sure that doesn’t happen,” he said.
Zawalsky also warned that hypothermia could happen any time of year and that dry clothing and layers is vital for avoiding it.
I pulled the ropes as tightly as possible for Ben, but my body was tired from snowboarding. I’d take my mittens off for better grip but put them back on as soon as my fingers began to lose feeling. In moments when I couldn’t help, I’d hop around and say encouraging things. I pulled my hood tighter around my head to hide from the snow that whipped my face and grabbed a headband to cover my reddening ears. After an hour, the tarp was finally sturdy.
“Well. At least there’s no bugs,” said Ben, ever the optimist.
Before we set up the tent, we sat in the truck to get some feeling back into our extremities. We watched the tarp jerk and lurch as we rubbed the numbness out of our fingers. As we stepped back into the chill, we focused on pitching the tent and used our axe to pound the pegs into the cold earth. I pulled our air mattress into the tent. We brought it to keep us off of the ground, but were unsure if it would be able to handle the cold. The tent was a three-season model, and our mummy-style sleeping bags suggested a limit of minus ten degrees. Knowing the temperature was going to be -14, we brought layers of clothes and blankets to keep us warm and a propane heater in case of emergency.
John Markowski, a MEC floor advisor, loves winter camping and stressed the importance of having adequate gear for safety. Markowski recommended a four-season tent to enhance snow cover and inner bag liners to increase the sleeping bag’s temperature range. Stoves and candles should be considered when thinking about protecting yourself from frostbite or hypothermia, especially in extreme cold. Markowski uses an emergency blanket on the floor of his tent to reflect body heat up. To help his feet stay warm, he puts a Nalgene water bottle full of hot water in the bottom of his sleeping bag.
Hutchings knows the difference proper supplies make during a trip. Finding condensation and moisture an issue with his old sleeping bag, army tent, and foam sleeping pads, Hutchings decided he needed new gear. Before, he had to pull his belongings from his tent each morning and attempt to dry them out by the fire on a clothesline. Hutchings upgraded to a four-season tent with a vestibule to store food or cook in, a down-filled sleeping bag with a waterproof foot box, and inflatable down-filled sleeping pads.
“Good gear makes everything easier,” he said. “Moisture management is crucial… this has made a world of difference in comfort.”
Hutchings suggested insulating yourself from the ground—higher value supplies are best. Having proper stakes for your tent and something to pound them into the frozen ground is important, as is bringing a shovel to pack down where you plan to set up your tent. Soft spots can damage the tent floor.
If being in a cold tent doesn’t sound enjoyable, Hutchings listed other ways to enjoy the outdoors during the cold months. Canvas style outfitters tents and tipi style “hot tents” are warm and becoming more affordable. Wood stoves alleviate challenges and gear requirements while still giving the experience of camping without cold mornings and nights.
Zawalsky and Hutchings suggested trying camping close to home before attempting a big trip.
“Walk before you run,” Zawalsky said. “You shouldn’t start at 40 below― work your way up. You’ll get better and better at it, you’ll get stuck in some colder weather, and you’ll be alright.”
Ben threw me the wood we brought from the box of his truck. Markowski said bringing wood and an axe can be very helpful, as finding firewood can be challenging. I grabbed a few pieces and began chopping kindling with our axe in the headlights while Ben set up chairs. As I started chopping, I noticed the darkness of the sky. The forest was pitch black.
What sort of animals are lurking out there?
I chopped faster and angled my body towards the woods to increase my chances of seeing something coming. The tarp flapped, I jumped.
To stay safe from wildlife, Markowski brings extra rope on his trips to hang food up and away. We stored food and wrappers in the truck and made sure to clean our area.
Ben started the fire, and I encouraged the small flames. As I sat, the numbness of my toes could not be ignored. I took off my boots and one pair of socks to give my feet more circulation. As soon as my bare feet became exposed to the air, a shiver took over my body and I clumsily rushed to put my fluffy socks back on. Whenever I left the fire, I would re-learn how cold the evening was and how wet the snow was. We did our best to stay close to the blaze.
Markowski has also had issues with footwear while camping one late April. He wore regular hiking boots for a trip, but the weather dropped to 15 below. The rubber on the bottom of Markowski’s boots froze solid.
“My feet were like rocks of ice,” he said. “I would recommend either taking along an extra set of boots you can take off at the end of the hike … or going with an insulated boot.”
Ben got our dinner of dehydrated chicken pesto penne ready. He boiled water over his backpacking isobutane camp stove and poured it into the food bag. I grabbed a blanket to wrap around myself while we waited the 15 minutes for the pasta to cook. With the extra boiled water, he made two cups of hot chocolate.
Zawalsky said isobutane stoves are excellent for camping in warmer temperatures but have issues in severe cold.
“When it comes to winter, I think that you’ll want to be using a white gas stove,” he said. “It has the virtue of being able to be lit in cold temperatures and work well in cold temperatures.”
Markowski recommended research on food alternatives and packing pre-cooked meals as dehydrated meals are expensive.
“I don’t think Fireball has ever tasted so good in my life,” Ben said between sips of whisky. I had to agree as I savoured the warmth of the cinnamon flavour that coated my tongue and stomach.
One of us handles cold better than the other. (Benjamin Burridge).
We constantly moved around the fire, dodging smoke. I crouched down often to absorb all the heat I could. We looked into the trees and marvelled at the pitch black of the night, revelled in the absence of other campers, and clinked our mugs of booze to a fantastic sibling trip.
Two cups of Fireball, three Jäger bombs, and hours of talking and singing later, we had felt the fatigue from the day’s wind and activities. “I’ll start the truck so we can pre-heat our blankets,” Ben said. I laughed. We weren’t “roughing it” exactly, but I was grateful to crawl into warm sleeping bags.
Hutchings suggested wearing base layers and a toque to bed. I slept with two sweaters, leggings, sweats, two pairs of socks, a toque, and my wool mittens. There were two blankets underneath our sleeping bags, and one large blanket on top that covered both of us. The air mattress held up well, and the only sound was the occasional flapping of the tarp against the tent. When I woke up to the light of the morning, I felt accomplished and much more rested than I expected.
Hutchings, Markowski, and Zawalsky had more advice to offer for beginners. Hutchings reminded campers that drinking water might freeze in the cold.
“If you plan on melting snow and treating it, bring a vessel to melt it in and enough fuel to cover the extra expenditure,” Hutchings said.
Markowski noted the importance of preparedness and planning.
Zawalsky listed three things to take camping: extra clothing, the means to light a fire, and a decent survival knife.
“If you’ve made some mistakes, that’s alright as long as you know how to light that fire,” he said.
Winter camping needs serious preparation, but braving the cold has many perks. Hutchings appreciates the easier food storage, and ice fishing and camping on lakes.
“It can extend your recreational season. There’s a lot to be said about the challenges faced and the feeling of accomplishment after even an overnight trip in the winter,” he said. “It provides a totally different experience than in the summer.”
Markowski said his trips are made special through his company and sitting around the campfire. He talked fondly about enjoying food and drinks, playing games, the cold crisp air accentuating sounds from the wilderness, and the eerie quiet of nighttime.
“It’s just the experience and who I’m with is really what it’s all about for me,” he said.
Both Hutchings’ and Markowski’s reasons felt similar to what I found memorable throughout my night. Waking up in the morning without our tarp and tent collapsing, or having to retreat into the truck, felt rewarding. Experiencing winter camping with my best friend and a good teammate made the evening even better.
The morning was crisp as we packed up and cleaned our site. The snow had stopped falling, and the wind settled. We got into the truck, cranked the heat, turned on our seat warmers, and searched on Google for the nearest Tim Hortons. I placed my still-cold fingers on my red, windburned cheeks. I took off my shoes and put my toes in front of the heater.
Despite the shiver in my bones, and the purple bags under my eyes, I didn’t care about being chilly and tired. I only had one thought–– when can we do that again?