The Wendlands plan to enjoy more winter camping this season.
By Mike Wendland, F426141
December 2014
At a time when most RVers are rushing to Florida or Arizona for warm weather, Jennifer and I are getting ready to drive the motorhome out into the heart of winter. We love winter camping.
During the past two winters, we’ve traveled across Michigan’s snow-covered Upper Peninsula. Last year, we ventured into Minnesota and the north shore of Lake Superior, where we boondocked in the woods on a night that the temperature dropped to -21 degrees Fahrenheit, with a windchill of -45. All the while, inside our Roadtrek Etrek it was a very comfortable 70 degrees. (Just call us “Ice Station Etrek.”)
We were up in Minnesota to serve as communications volunteers for the John Beargrease Sled Dog Marathon, a 400-mile race from Duluth, Minnesota, to the Canadian border. I’m an amateur radio operator, and I was stationed at a spot where the mushers’ trail crosses County Road 8 northeast of the tiny, remote hamlet of Finland, about 85 miles into the grueling race and smack-dab in the middle of absolutely nowhere. It was just the excuse we needed to head north into the heart of the arctic vortex.
The snow was beautiful; it was 3 feet high just off the trail. At night, the stars were so bright and close that they made you gasp. Okay, maybe it was the cold outside the RV that made us gasp. But the sky was stunningly clear and bright.
We heard wolves howling as we spent a lonely night out there. Just after sunrise the next morning, a hundred yards from us stood a big black wolf. It was probably the alpha male of the pack, according to one of the other volunteers we met. We assume it was curiosity that drew him close to us.
We limited our time outside to no more than half-hour stretches when we weren’t helping keep track of the passing mushers.
Tai, our double-coated Norwegian elkhound, thought he had died and gone to heaven, though he was noticeably spooked by the wolf. I took him out early Monday morning, and as he stopped and sniffed the air, the hairs on the back of his neck rose. I didn’t know why at the time, but a frequent musher from Minneapolis told me later that dogs typically are very frightened by wolves. “Sometimes a sled dog team will stop and lie right down when wolves are around,” she said. She added that the same black wolf we saw, along with a female, had been spotted there the year before.
In terms of preparing the RV for such extreme cold, we didn’t have to do much at all. Obviously, we didn’t have running water, since the RV was winterized. Water had been drained from the pipes and plumbing and replaced by RV antifreeze. To use the toilet, we flushed with antifreeze. And for coffee, cooking, and washing, we brought our own water in a couple of jugs.
The fuel in our diesel motorhome was changed a bit. On the advice of locals, I used a blend of the normal #2 diesel fuel with the hotter-burning #1 to handle the extreme cold — a blend of about 60 percent of #1 and 40 percent of #2. Some stations let you mix it yourself from adjacent pumps; others up in the northern states sell it blended 50-50. Either way, the #1 helps prevent diesel fuel from turning to a gel state in cold temperatures. On top of that, just to be safe, I got up a couple of times during the night and ran the engine for a half hour or so.
We ran the motorhome’s Webasto heater pretty much from the time we left our southeastern Michigan home until we returned. The heater probably used 2 gallons of diesel fuel at the most during the trip. We also like to bring along a small ceramic heater on winter trips to supplement the Webasto. It plugs into the coach’s 110-volt-AC system.
I’m not sure I’d try winter camping in a big Type A motorhome. Maybe a C. But a Type B is perfect for us. I’m a huge fan of the Mercedes-Benz Sprinter platform, which seems to be the most popular of the Type B models these days. It handles extremely well on snow and ice.
While the below-zero temps in Minnesota last year admittedly were extreme, most of our winter camping has been in considerably warmer temperatures, relatively speaking. The usual winter temperatures we camp in are around 20 degrees, with lows perhaps in the teens at night. And under those conditions, we spend a lot of time outside: hiking, walking Tai, and photographing the awesome winter snow scenes.
Everywhere you go around the north country, the locals shrug off the frigid temperatures and carry on winter activities such as snowshoeing, cross-country skiing, playing hockey, hiking, ice fishing, and sled-dog racing. They seem to actually embrace the cold, even though the snow is 3 feet deep and the drifts are taller than automobiles. I mean, they actually enjoy it! That’s because they know how to dress for it.
The best advice is to see what the locals wear and copy them. They wear snow bib overalls, insulated boots with felt liners, knit hats with full face masks, snowmobile mittens with glove liners, and thick parkas with a sweater or sweatshirt underneath.
Sometimes the most challenging thing about winter camping up north is finding a campground that is open and plowed. And, admittedly, winter camping is not for everyone. But if you’d like to try it, Jennifer and I will be at Tahquamenon Falls State Park near Paradise, Michigan (in the Upper Peninsula) January 23 through 25. Come on up!