You think this is cold? Let me tell you about the time...

Well, it is pretty darn cold out this January 7th 2014, no denying.    But I've seen colder, and it was admittedly insane.

I've always been a fan of expedition literature, particularly arctic exploration.    When I injured my psoas, I took ice baths while drinking (cold) chardonnay, and reading about arctic explorers freezing to death.   What a combination plate!

However, I've overdone it, or it's been overdone to me.

When I lived in the Chicago suburbs, Hinsdale to be precise, we had a real cold snap one winter.   The temperatures got down to minus 20 degrees F.   But that's not all.   It was accompanied by a stiff wind that knocked the wind-chill down to minus 60 degrees F.   Now, this is going to sound crazy, but I wanted to experience what the Arctic explorers experienced, so in the evening, I decided to venture out into the 60-below environment.

Illustration from the story of the ill-fated Jeanette expedition. 

I don't recall my exact getup, but it definitely involved long-johns and I doubled up my socks.  The house was maybe a half mile from downtown Hinsdale, so I figured a walk to downtown and back was a reasonable test.

When I started out, it didn't feel too too bad, but it was definitely cold.    Normally exercise warms up my muscles and even in cold weather, I do OK.    This didn't seem to be happening.

When I got to downtown Hinsdale, it was deserted, except for a couple of guys huddled around a couple of cars, trying unsuccessfully to jump start one off the other.   They didn't look happy.    I turned around, and as soon as I started walked back home, I realized I'd made a mistake.   Heat was draining out of my body faster than I could produce it, even with brisk walking.   My feet started to go numb.   Suddenly panic buzzers started to go off in my head.   "You dumb sh*t, they're going to find your frozen lifeless body on the roadside in the morning...."

I walked by a convenience store about halfway home, and then thought...hmmm.....   I turned around and popped inside.   Fortunately I had my wallet with me, so I bought a hot chocolate and let the heat of the store warm me up.    Once I felt like I had some reserve of heat, I went out again and was able to make it home before I lost too much heat.

Everywhere people couldn't start their cars because the oil was too viscous to turn over, and precious few people had block heaters, so everyone was more or less stranded.

That was time one when it was worse than the current Polar Vortex, as it's being called.

Time two was a Boy Scout outing of all things.   My son was in a troop run by a scoutmaster who wanted to do a campout every month of the year.    Our January campout was scheduled for a particular weekend in the Great Blue Hills outside of Boston.   As the day approached, the weather forecast was for the temperatures to drop from 30 degrees down to minus 20.   I phoned up the scoutmaster and told him that I didn't think it was such a great idea to take a bunch of kids to sleep out in 20-below temperatures.    He tut-tutted me, saying that it would be a good learning experience for them.

I have two sleeping bags rated at minus 20.   They're monsters.    I also have one of those NorthFace tents that you see on Everest expeditions.    I also had a huge supply of hand and foot heater pads.  I loaded up, and I made sure my son had one of the minus 20 degree bags.   I also brought a portable fireplace and a bunch of hardwood to keep things warm.

We pulled up at the campground, and I must admit to some trepidation.   It was reasonably warm at first, around 30.   I set up my tent and made sure my son was all setup.  The other dads didn't quite seem at ease.      I set out the portable fireplace and stoked the puppy up and got it blazing.   I brought a ton of firewood, so as long as you were reasonably close to it, you could stay toasty, but every time you wandered any distance away, you could tell it was getting colder and colder and colder.

Around 10 PM, it was time to turn in, and it had already dropped below 10.   I got into my tent and tried to figure out the best way to stay warm - keep on the long-johns?   OK.    I found, to my distress, that my flashlight no longer worked because it was too cold for the batteries.   I had a bottle of water, and had to put it inside my sleeping bag to keep it from freezing.  

It got colder still.   Then I began to get incredibly anxious.    I didn't understand why - I knew I could deal with -20 degrees (barely).   But then I realized that my brain was extrapolating the trend - first plus-thirty degrees.   A couple of hours later it was 10, then zero...just extrapolate till morning and we were all frozen food.   The mind does strange things with trends, that's for sure.  

I had some sips of scotch - ill-advised, I'm sure, but it calmed my nerves, and I passed into a fitful sleep.

Some point in the middle of the night, I woke up and my bladder was telling me something.  There's this thing called "cold diuresis" where your body wants to shed water to keep you warm - so peeing is more frequent in cold weather.  I cursed myself for not setting up a slop-jar for the night to pee in, and contemplated suiting up to go out again.   I didn't want to do that, so I ventured out in just my long-johns, figuring I'd make it quick.

When I got out, I quickly checked in on the boys in the tents.   One kid, a twelve year old, was no doing too well.    I got his dad, and he squirmed into his dad's sleeping bag.    The others seemed to be OK - well, more or less under the circumstances.

I did my business, but when I got back in my tent and into my sleeping back, I was so cold that I went into uncontrollable shivering that lasted for the better part of an hour.   I realize that shivering is supposed to warm you up, but it's not the most pleasant thing when it goes on and on and on.   Finally, I warmed up and fell asleep again.

In the morning, I slowly dragged my butt out of the sleeping bag, carefully putting layers upon layers.

We got up and tried to make breakfast.   Some of the boys looked downright catatonic - listless, unable to move.   I personally did a bunch of squats to generate heat from the large muscle groups.

All we had to do was clean up after breakfast and we could all go home, take hot showers and warm up.   Right?

Wrong!   The scoutmaster decided we needed to hike up Great Blue Hill.    I looked at him like he had two heads.    "Haven't we had enough of this?"    He said "No, we must hike Great Blue Hill".

The troop piled into the cars and drove to the trailhead.   The trail itself was a set of nested icicles, but at that point, I was just determined to knock off the sucker and be done with the whole mess.

So, we cranked up - went up the watch tower to survey the surroundings.    Finally, mercifully, we got back to the cars.    The scoutmaster seemed proud that we hiked Great Blue Hill, thinking that he taught the kids something useful - like doing a lot of exercise in cold weather warms you up.   True enough....but....