Okay, not quite the Arctic circle, but the word frigid comes to mind. (Although we did cross the 45th parallel, which is the halfway point from Equator to North Pole) 17 degrees (F) the second night, but our cabin was snug and warm and great riding was had by all.
Great writing was not had by all. There’s something about cozy comforters and gas fireplaces that lead to snuggling and watching Harry Potter instead of working. Oops.
I’ll have to catch up when I’ve dealt with Mount St. Camping. (Best thing about bringing the 29’er we bought up to the campground next weekend and parking it as a seasonal is the minimization of the camping mountain.) For now I’m going to ignore the camping debris seemingly oozing through my living room and kitchen like the Blob and bomb around the internet instead.