Winter "camping"

A few months ago a friend of mine decided to organize a few nights of winter camping. He entered a draw for one of the handful of shelters in Gatineau Park and, fortunately, landed one. Of course, real winter camping involves tents and frozen body parts; it turned out not to be quite like that...

Last weekend on Thursday afternoon, seven guys headed up to the welcome centre in Gatineau Park. Four of us were locals, three from out of town. The plan had initially been to do some snowshoeing to and around the shelter, but there had been no new snow to speak of since the last melt who knows how long ago. Basically, the snow conditions sucked. That afternoon it did start snowing and blowing, creating near white-out conditions during the drive, so there was some hope.

I had hoped not to rent snowshoes, but since most of the others had their own or rentals and were planning to use them, I broke down and rented some in the park.

We drove a ways north along the edge of the park (which is 360 square km, or 90,000 acres) to one of many parking lots. From there we would snowshoe along designated snowshoe trails (the skiers don't like us messing up their trails).

So I try to strap on my snowshoes and... of course they don't fit. The straps don't reach around my gargantuan boots. So I swap with someone who has different bindings. They sort of fit.

The hike in was just over 2km, a narrow hilly trail through the trees. Trees were good, since out in the open the wind made things rather chilly. At various points some people's snowshoes fell off, which was hardly a problem as there wasn't any snow accumulating and the old snow was packed hard.

Starting down the trail, which began in the open but headed into the trees.


We arrived at our accommodations. We had been expecting a yurt, which is just a simple shelter with wood heating. What we got was a few dozen steps up the luxury ladder.

Brown Cabin


It was a veritable mansion! Electricity, fridge, stove, lighting, electronic keypad access, the works. Or almost the works: the only reason we might claim we were roughing was the lack of indoor plumbing. No running water, and the outhouse was just outside beside the wood shed.

Inside, the place was a well-made wooden structure with a vaulted ceiling. One half was a common room and kitchen, and the other half was sleeping quarters.

Common room with wood stove at one end and kitchen entrance at the other.



Bunk beds for the weary.


The place could sleep 17. At the far end beside the kitchen was an actual bedroom; this is where we locked our loudest snorer each night so the rest of us could get some shut-eye.

There was electric heat in the place, but it was permanently set to about 10 degrees. That was fine, because there was plenty of dry firewood outside, complete with an axe and lots of newspaper. We used the wood stove constantly, both for heating and for cooking.

We realized we'd hauled far too much stuff to the site. Griddles and gas stoves weren't required since we could use both the kitchen range and the wood stove; extra axes weren't needed; extra warm sleeping bags weren't necessary either. There were even cutlery, utensils and pans available in the kitchen.

Everybody helped bring a ton of food, so we feasted like kings. The first night we had boerenkool with sausage.

Friday morning most of us headed back to the parking lot to get some more food from one of the vehicles and to meet up with an eighth fellow, who'd had to work late the previous night. We dispensed with the snowshoes and trudged along in -25 degree weather. Or something like that; the thermometer registered well below -20 before the sun hit it, but then there was a bit of wind chill.

Partway there, someone realized that we didn't have the truck keys. Our fearless organizer hustled back while the rest of us continued. Hustling in such cold weather is taxing indeed, and one's own breath can be cruel. If you cover part of your face, an inch or so above where that covering ends, your breath escapes and freezes. In this guy's case, he had most of his face covered, so he ended up with very purdy eyelashes.


This baleful fellow's beard kept going white.


After returning to the cabin and polishing off a hearty breakfast of bacon, eggs and toast, we prepared for the day's hike.

This guy wanted proof for his wife that he spent time in the kitchen.


The route we planned to do was somewhere between 12km and 15km. We didn't bother with snowshoes since those things slow you down in the absence of deep snow.

It was a ton of walking. Out in the open, the wind was biting and we had to be careful to cover up. The snow was plentiful in some places, and while it often held one's weight, the odd time we'd break through the crust and have an awkward time of it. If someone couldn't go on, we'd bury him in a few inches of snow and keep moving.


For the most part we stayed on marked trails, which meant spotting trail markers if possible. Fortunately it was a beautiful clear day and we didn't get lost.


We stopped for lunch at a designated fire pit stocked with wood. The fire was more of a smoky exercise than a roaring success; lunch consisted of snacks and soup heated on a gas range someone had brought along.


On the return trip, we split into two groups, to have a bit of a race; one group would follow the same trail back to the cabin, while the other would break trail and go the other way around two lakes we'd been skirting. I was in the second group, and we barrelled along at a good clip. It wasn't always obvious where the lake ended and the shore began, so after a few less-than-confident minutes closely following the shoreline, we headed inland. This didn't help too much, as there was a lot of marshland in the way; to steer around all of it would have cost too much time. So we picked our way through and made good time. I led most of the way, in part to test for weak ice. I went through a couple of times but my combination of boots and snowsuit kept me dry.

We worked up a good sweat, but it still rather cold out. One guy's nose was partially an unhealthy white, so he made sure to cover it up to prevent frostbite.

We were within sight of the cabin when another guy broke through. He got a good soaker, but it hardly mattered; he actually ran the last bit and we were back to a relatively warm cabin shortly. We'd won; the wood stove fire had died down and needed work, but it was certainly nice to be indoors again.

The other group arrived 15 minutes later. One of them had also gotten a soaker, and it had happened early on; but without dry clothes or a way to warm up, they'd seen fit to just carry on.

The losers of that race were supposed to run around the outside of the cabin shirtless, but regrettably none of them did so. A couple of the winners did for some reason, so we were entertained anyway. Still, what a shame.

We had pasta for dinner and rested our weary bones that evening.

Saturday morning we cleaned up and trekked back out of the woods to the parking lot. I dropped off the rental snowshoes that hadn't fit me, and they didn't charge me for them.

We may have to do some fall camping next time, perhaps a canoe trip in Algonquin Park. We shall see...