We knew it was going to be cold, but not THAT cold. In fact, we avoided sleeping out Friday night at the Adirondack Loj because the temperatures were predicted to be as low as -30 to -40 F. So, 4 AM Saturday morning, Uri, Ethan, and I piled into the car to drive the four hours to St. Huberts parking lot in Keene Valley, NY, naturally making a pit stop at Old Mountain Coffee. A typically crowded parking lot, St. Huberts was questionably barren, even for a holiday weekend in January. We met with two other buds, Peter and Albert, and bundled for the trek up Dial and Nippletop mountains. At the trailhead, the park ranger suspiciously looked us over to make sure she wouldn't have to call for rescue in a few hours. Overall satisfied but slightly disapproving, she sent us on our way. After all, the high temperature for the day would be 0 F, without wind chill.
A secret fact is that hiking in the Adirondacks gets easier in the winter. Trails that would otherwise be boulders, tree roots, slimy bedrock, rock scrambles, and running mountain springs were now a smooth, snowy, paved walkway. The cold also subsides quickly as you begin vertical hiking and burning calories, and coming down the mountain can be supported with frequent butt slides and sledding. But, you need to be prepared.
Hair turning into frozen spider webs and toes numbing in my old boots, I was a little nervous that I had underdressed, but this thought passed as soon as our climb began. Temperature regulation is a delicate balance and dance: if you sweat on the hike up, you will be wet, and if you stop, that sweat will freeze. My water bladder took the biggest hit. Inside my jacket, it was perfectly thawed on the ascent, but without fail, the hoses froze on the hike down as I cooled down. Maybe this was a beginner's mistake, and next time, I will take heated water in a thermos. Considering we cut the route short and only hiked Dial, I was not concerned.
After warming up at Lisa G's in Lake Placid and drying our gloves at the Laundromat, the time had come for us to retreat to our campground. The Adirondack Loj was the best place to practice winter camping, and we had a lean-to (a 3-sided wooded structure with a roof) right next to Heart Lake.
The night was cloudless, and stars scattered the sky in the way that they do when light pollution doesn't exist. The full moon was in just a few days, so headlamps were even optional out in the open. We didn't know until the following morning, but the temperature did hit -30 F without wind chill, and it made sense. The fire we built was useless as we couldn't feel the heat no matter how close we stood, the snow was powdered ice crystals, and any exposed skin started to sting. After a brief jaunt out onto Heart Lake to admire the vast openness of a frozen body of water underneath the night sky, I had to escape into my sleeping bag for warmth to rescue my toes.
My sleep system inside the lean-to was this: an emergency blanket at the base on the wooden floor, a thick yoga mat for extra cushion, and a Thermarest inflatable sleeping pad on the top. I had a Big Agnes Daisy Mae 15 F degree bag inside an Eastern Mountain Sport Simmer Down 25 F bag. I hoped the doubled nested bags would increase the warmth without compressing the down, and it had, for the most part. I wore a beanie, thermal pants and a few shirts, and a down jacket. At my feet, I tossed two foot warmers to help generate heat which was very difficult to do on my own. From around 10 PM to 1 or 2 AM, I struggled to build enough heat in the bag while finding a way to breathe. It was too cold to expose my nose to the air, and the air was painful to inhale. Knowing that breathing inside the sleeping bag creates warm moisture that can freeze, I knew that I shouldn't have been doing that, but the alternative was much less exciting in that moment.
It was around 8:30 AM when I woke up, and to my delight, I had gotten hours of sleep and was actually toasty in my multi-layered burrito. Glancing over at my comrades, all I saw were four giant, dark blue worms that eventually started stirring too. We survived sleeping outside in winter! had even done it semi-successfully on a college student budget. The only casualty we had was a busted Nalgene, but, all things considered, that was a success.
In the future, I would wear warmer layers on my legs and feet, I would find a way to breathe outside of my sleeping bag, perhaps with the assistance of moleskin on my nose and cheeks, and I'd have my water bottle inside of my sleeping bag. Of course, buying better rated sleeping bags and pads would help, but that's for my future wallet. Next step, moving from the lean-to to pitching a tent and sleeping in the snow!
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