My second foray into winter camping, and this time a little more adventurous. I had attempted this snowshoe hike in December, three months ago, but had to turn around after 15 minutes on the trail because the small footbridge had been completely destroyed by branches, logs, and slabs of ice in the river. To say the least, it was disappointing when you drive 3 hours each way to turn around so quick.
By February however, most of the water had frozen around the edges and what was left but just a trickle. I walked over the river as if it wasn’t any different than the rest of the trail.
The trail was fairly easy and fairly popular, seeing as it was a sunny Saturday. I knew it would be busy, so even though I was going to the hut, I made sure to bring my winter tent and bank on using that. I always prefer a nice, quiet room for one over a loud, crowded cabin. And it was crowded! I spent the evening chatting with other snowshoers and skiers, made a few friends, chatted with a nuclear submarine engineer (if you ever read this, I owe you $100 from our bet). It was wonderful to be packed into a little backcountry hut with a bunch of likeminded people. But also wonderful to retreat to my tent when it was time for bed.
It was a cold night. I was prepared for it, but my water bottle sitting next to my sleeping bag froze completely overnight. I woke up with hoarfrost on the inside of the tent as well as coating the outside.
I was still all smiles.