This winter we had a lovely little adventure camping in snow in the Snowy Mountains. To be honest, camping in the snow wasn’t something I’d really been busting to do. The cold factor and all but I am so, so glad everything turned out the way it did because it was such a lovely, almost magical, experience. We didn’t really mean to be camping in the snow, it was meant to just be plain old cold but snow it did.
Pete’s friend, John, invited us on a camping trip with him and some friends to a place they go to fairly regularly. It was a fairly spontaneous invite so we didn’t have much time to plan or think too much about it. All we knew was to bring lots of warm clothes and plenty of bedding because it would be cold. It’s never snowed in that spot in all of the years John has been camping there, and so it wasn’t so much the snow that we were preparing for.
Well, it hasn’t ever snowed while he’s been camping there until the weekend that we came along!
I’m not going to glorify the weather temperature – it was absolutely freezing. The wind chill was amazingly …chilly. Cold to the bone weather. But, we wore lots of layers and we donned gumboots and mostly we felt comfy enough by the huge camp fire and out walking. But the beauty of the place, the remoteness, the pretty, pretty snow resting on branches and covering the ground like a white, woollen blanket. Oh wow, it was stunning.
And for the whole time we were out in this wilderness I was on the look out for brumbies. Apparently they are often hanging out around where we camped and it was pretty obvious that they had visited only a day or so before us as there was brumby poo everywhere. So much so that I had to get a photo. But alas, we didn’t get a glimpse of a brumby.
And this little creek. It was so pretty. Fresh from the mountains and icy cold.
And the food. It was so good. Camping is not, apparently, all about baked beans and jaffles anymore, although those are still yummy camping feasts in themselves. We certainly ate well. Really, really well. Bacon, eggs, mushrooms, tomatoes, sourdough toast cooked on the fire for breakfast.
3 O’clock anti pasto and drinks.
And a delicious slow cooked lamb casserole beautifully made by John and cooked on the open fire in the camp oven.
It still surprises me that I now think of camping as a fun, lovely thing to do. There was a time in my life where the thought of camping caused my heart to race in a not-excited way. It seems that an old dog can
learn new tricks have new adventures. I’m so glad that I’ve changed for the better, well, at least in regards to the camping thing.
Are you a camper? If not, why not? If so, what is it you like most about camping? Leave me a comment and let me know.