Have I mentioned that one of my lifelong goals is to be living in a yurt?

Yep. The really unique tents that I associate with medieval warfare look like a a dream home to me.

Because I currently live in a “couched” situation, I find even my backpacking tent to be a desirable home, but for one that’s illegal (I think) and two, well, I think I might get a little cold in the winter. Now that being said, I have found myself mocking “glampers,” sarcastically addressing the concept with a little bit of a pompous air about me- because I believed that there was no point to it and thought there was no way to enjoy nature in this fashion because the “closeness” was somehow missing.

However, as I get older I find that most of my preconceived notions about things I’ve never done tend to unfurl before my eyes, laughing at me as they open up to reveal naivity and misjudgement on my part. I was so wrong about it! And about how dirty you get still, even with luxuries including hot water.

I feel the most connected with nature on the ground, but this time I finally went winter camping, and I traded my blowup pad for a cot, my jet boil for a coleman, and my Alps 2 person for a canvas hunting tent.

Many people thought we were crazy, heading up in the snow to sleep under the stars. But overall, anticipation out overran my reservations -as it often does when the opportunity to go outside arises-and despite the cautionary remarks of my family and friends I found myself puffing out clouds of warm breath against the chill when I was instructed to hammer this spike or pull that line; or raise a
pole in order to pitch what would be our living quarters for the weekend.


The biggest difference between backpacking and this? The food.

The first night we were a little tired from setup and wanted something easy. So on the traditional dehydrated meals of choice were served, but from there on out it was all gourmet, leaving behind any resemblance to my usual minimalist diet for backpacking.

In the morning I awoke to the sound of wood being shoved into a stove and
the gentle crack of embers coming to life. My friend was building up the fire so that I-the princess of the mountain-would not have to leave my sleeping bag until a more suitable climate could be manufactured for my emergence. Much like a butterfly, I comically thought to myself. Had I been backpacking I would be up and about, flailing my arms in a wild bout of jumping jacks or some sort of exercise to jumpstart my body and to create some blood flow.

But alas, coffee was offered to me the moment I felt warm enough to unzip myself from my cocoon and aid in the preparation of breakfast: potatoes with peppers, salted and sauteed in coconut oil in a delicious mash of onions and garlic. I toasted bread and savory tofu bacon that I would make every day if I could-and completed my meal with a side of Just Egg -the perfect camping companion as for once the vegan option isn’t as more complicated or involved.

Camping seems to do that -make you way hungrier than you would likely be in the city (due to elevation usually, I think). Not that I’m complaining though, the whole point of this trip was to unwind and rest, indulging in delicious food, scotch, and good company for the whole of 3 days. So if I could do any of that without gaining several pounds I was all game.

Of course we had leisurely activities planned for in between such as hiking, exploring, and riding his ATV, but knowing we had a carefully curated menu with delectable meals made coming back to our little home away from home just as fun, and personally when I know I have a good meal planned for later it brightens my day a little bit more.

After breakfast we drove a ways to a trailhead by Ute Pass, entrusting our things back at camp to the mercy of the elements and maybe a passerby or two, but overall Joe was not worried in the slightest that our things would be in good order upon our return. I, on the other hand, was not so convinced, yet my experiences have been limited to either camping in state parks as a kid, sleeping in a cabin, or carrying my whole living mechanism on my back, secure and undoubtedly in sight the whole time.

I won’t lie when the apprehension about leaving our things out in the open stirred up the “what if” section of my brain, but once we started hiking it was often times drowned in the following “oohs” and “ahhs” of the trail, with gorgeous views of the mountains at several twists and turns.

I use an app called Peak Finder (no not an ad, I really do recommend it) to locate the different mountains I look at on hikes or drives because I’m obsessive about knowing their names. And the labeled overlays are so useful for pictures. This hike was no different, and it was so interesting so see what large peaks surrounded our trail.

While I may be a foreigner to winter camping, winter hiking is a favorite of mine. I just adore everything about it.
To hear the crunch of snow beneath my feet and yet also nothing at the very same time is so therapeutic for me. It’s hard to describe but I suppose it could be the very definition of white noise and maybe psychologically it has that effect? I’m not a scientist in that regard though so don’t take my word for it, just a personal theory.

Winter hiking is a stark contrast to summer hiking, I feel that it is more of a time for reflection and rest as opposed to goal setting and trekking for physical conditioning (in the mountains, that is. I know many athletes do their best work in the winter). I suppose for me it’s because I’m impacted by the environment differently depending on the season: in the summer it’s easy to be motivated by the hustle and bustle of a busy trail or by the destination. But in winter there’s many places that I personally don’t go, like 14ers or locations that could be more dangerous due to avalanche potential, and so the landscape that I pick to traverse tends to be a little more gentle and forgiving, it’s easy to meander.

Winter hiking just looks different too, and it’s just a wonderful change from the heat of the mountainous desert we live in.

I think my favorite thing go see is when snowflakes flutter down, looking very much like dust floating through a ray of sunshine-all frenzied but in a gentle swirl. I have a hard time not stopping every other moment to afford myself more time to appreciate my surroundings or take yet another photograph.

If you’ve ever listened to Jeremy Soule before, you may have experienced the feeling im so roughly describing, but I believe he was born to capture in music how I feel when I go on winter hikes. It’s a different type of peace out there in the cold, and when there’s no one or nothing else around, it gives you an elevated sense of presence. To me it feels like a relieving return to something sacred, as this goes back to my previous statements about feeling more spiritual in nature. I encourage you to give a Skyrim playlist a listen if you find yourself on a snowy trail, you’ll see what I mean.

As a side note, I tend to listen to fantasy soundtracks when I hike in general, I think it adds to the moment, or sometimes just classical will do the trick, but definitely music on the calmer side is how I roll.

By the time we turned around and had descended back to the truck, my ankles were caked with packs snow pellets that so graciously accumulated, but if I’m being honest I hardly noticed, I swear my legs and ankles are pretty much immune
to the cold, and I accredit this mostly to my years of figure Skating and becoming acquainted with enduring rigid temperatures in less clothing, and maybe the thicker skin that comes with forgetting longer socks…

When we made it back to camp for the day it was actually almost sunset, a blessing and a curse. Because while yes it does get colder, it also means fire construction begins earlier.

I’m usually not one to have a fire, I very rarely have any, much to the chagrin of my outdoor fiends.. But there was no wind and no ban, as well as snow on the ground so I felt a little more at ease. It was quite picturesque, I swaddled myself in a fleece blanket and propped my boots up on a rock letting the fire work its magic, staving off the cold and filling me with a cozy giddiness.

While I huddled up in contentment, my fellow camper so kindly made dinner, sautéing my vegetables and tofu to perfection in a curry sauce. He served them up with rice and pita bread (because naan usually isn’t vegan) which was slathered in plant-based butter and toasted on the wood-stove’s surface. Don’t worry, I contributed during this trip, I swear!

I was anticipating to stargaze on this trip, but unfortunately the nights weren’t exactly clear, but I still was able to catch the occasional star or two peeking out from the clouds. And besides, I was distracted by funny story swapping, philosophical debates while already in a beautiful forested environment so I counted myself as lucky and couldn’t really ask for more.

The goal was to relax, as I had had a few action packed weeks prior and I was in desperate need of fun, and we certainly had it.

The next day, again it was a delightful deja-vu of breakfast, coffee and combating the cold, but instead of hiking on the agenda we spent the day at a CPW range and then took the ATV for a spin-this was more Type 1 fun to be sure.

This whole trip was definitely an eye opener to many facets of outdoorsy enjoyment that I don’t usually partake in, and travelling on an ATV was one of the most pleasant of these adventures.
It was pretty cold at the time we had started, and the temperature plummeted even quicker with the wind. But the benefit to being a passenger on such an endeavor is that you have a personal windshield -the driver – that takes the brunt of the storm.

We went on a commonly used trail, exploring the twists and turns at a moderate speed and tipping our hats to other travellers and hunters we’d pass.

When it was my turn to drive-man I’ve never felt so alive -slipping around in the mud, nearly tipping over, and at times convincing Joe that those might have been his last moments (apologies). Needless to say he took over shortly and I’ve been promised driving lessons when the ground isn’t soaked though with ice and snow precipitation. But I had an absolute blast!

After a bit of riding we returned, and it was more wood chopping for Joe as I set up dinner.

On the plate was the Chick’ n from Tofurkey, sauteed and worked into a marina sauce over pasta, and a fried baguette with fresh garlic minced on the top. Glamping Italian at its finest.

I was certainly not looking forward to returning home the next day, but I was so appreciative of the time outside and for the new experience with this camping mode that enabled us to stay out there. I am definitely optimistic that I’ll be doing it again.
This has definitely furthered my desire to live in a Yurt; and so if in a few years you see that I’ve become the crazy lady out in the woods that loves plants, just doing her thing in her super cool tent, you know exactly what my origin story was.

As always, thank you for reading my narrative of my charming experience, and I hope to fill you in soon on the rest of the winter fun that’s yet to come.. Happy holidays, and stay safe everyone!