
During the night, the gray sky made sleeping a bit more chilly. Faint sun penetrated my yellow Scott Tent and inside was a more subdued sepia tone than the shocking yellow of warmth. I had to place my wind-up alarm clock inside a sock because it was too cold for it to work yesterday. In January 2002 katabatic winds pummeled our tents and my tent walls twisted spasmodically, smashing my alarm clock into a thousand rattling pieces (fortunately, these pieces were contained---the problem was only uncovered swishing the clock like an infant's rattle.) Anyway, to keep from needing to eat pounds of chocolate throughout the night, I put my little red parka underneath my sleeping mat along with a few folded duffle bags. The more you can get yourself off the ground the warmer you'll sleep. I wove myself into a chrysalis of a pile pants, a sleeping bag liner, and miscellaneous Smartwool tops. My eyes draped with a face warmer and hat secured into position. Today, I emerged from this encasement revitalized but debating the pros and cons of changing into new attire.


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