We took Troop 16 camping this weekend. It got down to -50F.
After we got there, Riley prayed, "Please help, that when we wake up we can all count to ten."
All my eye hairs grew serious cicles when shoveling the snow piles.
Four of the scouts camped under the stars and seven slept in snow caves. By under the stars I mean, little skinny bodies in crusty sleeping bags lying on crinkly tarps on the snow. Serious.
The snow cave sleeping was more comfortable. I dug a narrow 10' long tube into a berm pushed up by the snow plow. With my two sleeping pads under me the bag touched the ceiling. I was actually totally warm but every time I moved snow and condensed ice would tinkle down on my face.
Here's a view from the entrance of the tube (secondary bag wadded up at the end of the tube)
Me, my pads, tarps, bags, and the vans
It is amazing to think that we've figured out a way to keep our mostly hairless bodies warm when the air temperature is 150 degrees different. I felt like a caddis fly in its cocoon in my snowy den.