Camping in the cold.

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We’ve always been a warm weather camping family... sad to bid farewell every autumn, but having no desire to sleep in a VW bus in icicle inducing temps. NOT ANYMORE, WORLD! 

The chaos of 2020 seems to be getting back at it after somewhat of a lull during the warm months + fresh air always seems to have a bit of magic to make the 🤪🤪🤪 feel less crazy... for a few hours anyways. So, with our new-to-us 1952 camper, Opal, we said why the hell not. 

Aside from my family chastising me the next morning for forcing them to sweat + sleep under approximately 8 blankets {I didn’t want them to freeze!}, forgetting a pan to cook our taco meat and Jason almost slicing his thumb off with the hatchet, our first chilly weather trip went quite swimmingly. 

We adventured up the snowy hill to find a herd of 25 deer that were JUST as interested in us as we were in them. 

There was an attempt to carve some boats, which ended in the aforementioned blood bath, and we munched on some vegetarian tacos before cuddling up under the mountain of blankets. 

My absolute favorite part about camping is the morning cup of coffee, enjoyed amongst a cacophony of nature noises or just plain silence. This morning was no different, except for a few extra layers of clothes. 

I struggled with hating the Wyoming cold for such a long time and feel so thankful that lately each winter I find something new about it that makes my heart happy. I mean, what can beat that early morning view out the window?!

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