There is nothing more miserable when, after a long day's hard march, you finally retire in the tent and have to fight your way into your bag because it has frozen solid. The trouble with them is that they collect rime - the sweat and breath that comes off one's body at all times, which freezes and sticks to every surface. We should expect that the sleeping bags will have to be dried out at every opportunity.
I'm glad for this fine summer weather we're having in Christchurch.
And Kathleen's warm body next to mine.
No comments:
Post a Comment