Cold, but not unbearable

I just got back from walking the hound. Great night! It's in the low 20s, the sky is crystal clear, the not quite full moon was hanging low in the sky, and the stars were twinkling. Really, they were!

A fine blanket of snow was mostly intact on lawns, trees, and bushes, but thankfully the roads and sidewalks were clear (at least in the 'burbs east of Seattle). The only part of me that was cold were my cheeks - and no, I wasn't wearing my flannel chaps, so don't go there - and I went back in time to my Boy Scout days, where I truly learned what cold was.

See, back in the day, our troop used to make an annual snow camp. That's right, pack up your long johns and mummy bags, boys, 'cause it's gonna be a c-o-l-d one! We'd head into the North Cascades and set up camp - you guessed it - in the snow. The trusty dome tents were pitched on a patch of hand (boot) flattened snow, and the days spent romping about, snow-shoeing, igloo-making (at least a reasonable facsimile thereof), Coleman stove cooking, and other winter delights.

But the real fun began at dusk, and continued on to morning. You had to strip off all your wet clothes, change into dry togs if necessary, and slip into the down-filled mummy bag before you went numb. Boots, wool socks, outerwear, and your hats/gloves needed to stay in the tent with you overnight. Why? Ever try to slip on frozen boots in the morning? There you have it.

And should nature call after you were bedded down, well, that did sucketh verily. You had to exit your cocoon, scamper to the tree or latrine, do your biz, and then get back in to your bag. Of course, you disturb your tent mate(s) and freeze your nipples off in the process. Ask me later if these trips were worth it.

Finally, morning! We would stay in our tents as long as possible, until the adults chased us out. Bastards! Exiting the relative warmth of your bag and tent was never pleasant. Dressing in clothes that were not always warm at first was not fun. Even less fun if your boots were frozen!

In hindsight, these trips were worth it. Lessons on how to stay warm have stayed with me all these years later, augmented by the memory of some minor suffering on several of the campouts. Also, if you have never experienced someplace like Minnesota in the dead of winter (you know, -50 to -70 with wind chill factor), you really can't complain about the cold.

So I really had no complaints on my walk tonight. It was cold, but I walk fast, dress wisely, and try not to let it get to me mentally. That, and the stark realization that the homeless have to face the cold on a regular basis with little to no break from it, so yeah, I have no complaints about the cold.