Postcard from a FREEZING campsite in the Outer Banks

I learn a valuable lesson on the meaning of winter

I woke up in the middle of the night to the tent shaking, nylon in my face. For a split second I thought of the coyotes we’d heard howling just a dune or two away before falling asleep.

The wind gusted again, sending the tent pitching sideways. I’ve slid just enough off my sleeping pad that as the tent bows it touches my forehead. Not coyotes, I think. Just more wind.

Before we’d left for North Carolina, Andy and I exchanged about nine words about the weather. “Have you seen the forecast”/ “Oh you betcha”. As long-time kayak guides and no stranger to cold-weather camping, that was all we said.

We don’t cancel for weather. We just adapt.

Car loaded up with kayaks and winter camping gear, we made the trek down to the Outer Banks anyways, 40mph winds and winter storm warning and all.

Winter camping in the Outer Banks

Overall, the first night wasn’t so bad, but the second night was freezing, literally. The forecast said it got down to 27, but I’d bet it didn’t get quite that cold, closer to 30. Either way with the wind, the real feel was much colder.

Cooking at camp was hard with blowing sand and my hands were numb almost immediately. By the time the taco meat made it onto our tortillas it was not only not hot but actively cold.

It was cold, tent flapping in my face and I didn’t want to get out of bed that morning to watch the sunrise over the Atlantic. Andy started rustling and reminded me that it isn’t every day I get to watch the sunrise over the ocean, so I unzipped my sleeping bag anyway.

In the moment, the camping trip was defined by how cold, windy and downright challenging it was to be out there in the dunes in the wind for three days. When we left a little early on the last day I was stoked to leave for showers and a hotel bed.

Now, though, with a little distance between me and blowing sand, all I can think of is how bright the stars were at night, and how hard we laughed trying to take the tent down as it nearly blew out to sea from under us, and how nice it was to walk two miles on a completely empty beach as the sun rose.

I almost stayed in bed that morning, but I didn’t.