Staying Warm When All About You Is Cold
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There was a time, perhaps 40 years ago, when I really enjoyed trapping, especially water trapping. I ran my trapline from a Yamaha 500 Enduro with a milk crate bungeed to the rack. It started out as enjoyable, but then winter came. I had set my 330 body-grip traps in an underwater, or at this point under-ice, runway that led to the beaver’s food cache. My job was to maintain thin ice over the trap so that, if I caught something, it wouldn’t be as arduous to retrieve the trap and the beaver.
One morning, I ran the traps and saw I’d caught a beaver. I don’t remember, or possibly never knew, the temperature, but it was bitterly cold. As I pulled the trap up, my right foot went through the ice. I was wearing waders and fell on my right side. Most of my right side, including my shoulder, was submerged, and a small amount of frigid water ran over the top of my waders. I rolled onto the ice, pulled myself to my feet, circled to the other side of the trap, and hauled it and the beaver out. I then bungeed them to the top of my milk crate.
Faced with the age-old question—take it slow to stay warmer or high-tail it home and get it over with—I chose the latter. I sped the approximately five miles home. When I arrived, my sleeve was frozen solid, like armor. It may have been the coldest I’ve ever been. I slid out of my waders and stepped into a warm shower, clothes and all. I used to tell that story as proof of how tough I was in my younger days. Now I realize I wasn’t tough at all—I was just lucky to survive.
There’s a part of me that enjoys the cold—not to a dangerous point, but enough to appreciate the challenge of staying warm. It probably traces back to reading Jack London’s short story To Build a Fire. The story follows a northern man trying to make it back to camp, but he’s forced to spend the night on the trail with only some matches and his dog. If you haven’t read it, I won’t spoil it for you, but there’s no To Build a Fire II.
My will to fight the cold comes partly from my passion for late-season waterfowl hunting. Winter hunting is cold for everyone, no matter the quarry. But while you can stay dry hunting deer, waterfowl hunting is inherently wet. Even if you’re dry in a blind, the nearby water chills you to the bone. It’s part of the sport. Just as golfers wear sunscreen to protect against the sun, waterfowl hunters in December must find ways to stay warm and dry.
Staying Warm on the Hunt
For me, a good pair of waders is essential, keeping two-thirds of my body dry. When buying waders, choose boots with the highest Thinsulate rating for warmth. Modern waders often have zip-in linings for added insulation. Pair them with a waterproof—not water-repellent—coat or jacket. Water-repellent fabric eventually soaks through, while waterproof fabric does not.
Although the old adage that most heat escapes through the head has been debunked, keeping your head covered is still crucial. Invest in a good hat, and ensure your coat has a waterproof hood or bring a waterproof hat as backup. Along with a second hat, I carry two extra pairs of gloves in my blind bag. Warm hands and feet are key to staying comfortable.
The biggest mistake I used to make was overdressing before physical tasks. I’d layer up for the boat ride to the blind, then unload the boat, break ice, and set up decoys—all while sweating in heavy gear. By the time I reached the blind, I’d already compromised my goal of staying dry.
Now, after landing the boat, I hang my heavy coat in the blind before starting those tasks. Once I return and cool down, I put my heavier layers back on. For wet work, like handling decoys, I use Cabela’s waterproof gauntlets. These felt-lined gloves extend to the elbow, keeping my sleeves dry while also insulating my hands.
Keeping Your Hunting Partner Warm
Keeping myself warm is only part of the challenge. My four-legged hunting buddy, Winkle, expends even more energy on our hunts. Winkle, a Springer Spaniel weighing just over 50 pounds, has more heart than any dog I’ve hunted with. He attacks his retrieves with joyful determination but burns a great deal of energy in the cold.
To help him stay warm, he wears an insulated vest that keeps his core protected, though not entirely dry. I carry a heavy towel to dry him after each water retrieve and give him snacks to keep his energy up in the blind. Finally, I set a small propane Buddy Heater on the floor of the blind, which he enjoys curling up next to.
By preparing carefully, both Winkle and I stay safe and warm on even the coldest hunting days.
