Overnight in the Spruce River Highlands
Brent and I decided that it would be fun to ski out into the bush somewhere, build a quinzhee, sleep in it overnight, and then ski out again the next day. We chose to do this in PA Park (Prince Albert National Park), a little more than a 2 hour drive out from Saskatoon.
1997-03-08: Skiing in and digging out the Quinzhee
As we skied in, the temperature rose to about -7 degrees as we skied on in and we got quite hot and sweaty, and had to strip down as we skied in. The Spruce River Highlands ski route is an advanced one, with lots of steep hills. It isn’t tracked either, which makes it even more work.
After a few hours of skiing (Brent using his shovel as a speed brake going down the hills: just sit down and let the blade dig in!), we stomped off the trail and up a hill where it looked like there was more than average snow. We shed our skis, and started piling up the snow. An hour and a half later, I started digging in. It collapsed on me as soon as I got 3 feet in.
After Collapse #1, I came back out and we continued shoveling. Incidentally, the shoveling wasn’t that easy because we were out in the woods and there were lots of branches under the snow. There was no way to anticipate when your shovel would get caught on something and STOP. Sometimes you could move the branch, and sometimes it was solidly frozen to the ground.
Another hour later, and once again, I started digging. This time, it didn’t collapse on me until I had excavated out enough space for two people to sit in cross-legged.
After Collapse #2, we were back to shoveling, and this time, we would try to wait a little longer. The third digging attempt was successful. At this point, we were both getting a little paranoid, and wishing we had brought a tent along. It was very dark. We pounded on the snow and forced ourselves to wait a little longer than before. Waiting wasn’t easy. Darkness was upon us, and we were starting to cool off. We were quite wet, both from sweat, and from crawling around inside the quinzhee digging it out. Lessons Learned: It would have been nice to have a backup plan, something like a tent!
Eventually, we nervously moved our stuff into the quinzhee, I set up a stove (yes, we put in a chimney just above the snow, as well as two other ventilation holes) and we made two pots of Campbell’s chunky soups (normally we wouldn’t dream of bringing canned goods on a camping/canoeing trip, but for an overnighter…). Predictably, the quinzhee quickly warmed up past its standard temperature of a few degrees below zero, and got wet. This was a change for us: no longer did snow fall into your sleeping bag when you brushed your head against the ceiling. Instead, you got a wet spot, and maybe a few drips. Lessons Learned: Avoid cooking in the quinzhee. We did sleep well and stayed warm.
1997-03-09: Coffee and Skiing Out
Morning greeted us with -25 degrees. Inside the quinzhee there was no indication of the outside temperature. Brent greeted me by picking up one of his socks and poking me with it. It was frozen solid. Brent started struggling into his boots. I got dressed. Ten minutes later, Brent figured he was in for a rough day: his leather ski boots had also frozen solid, and wouldn’t bend enough for him to get his feet in. Another fifteen minutes saw him finally get them on. Brent is tougher than me. I would not have enjoyed frozen feet at all. Lessons Learned: Bring other boots to wear in camp, or an emergency. We dug out our entrance and slithered out into the darkness. The sun rises late in Saskatchewan in winter. We lit the lantern and put coffee on.
We then skied down the small slope back to the real ski trail. We left our quinzhee in the woods for other skiers to wonder about. A couple of hours or so later, we were back at the car. It started and we drove back into civilization.