A Cold Night in Cave Springs
Gather around the fire while I tell you a story
Howdy! I’m Walther, this is Peregrino, and you’re about to read a revamped version of an essay I published back in December of 2022 (ancient history). Recreation.gov has a contest called Share Your Story, where people can submit essays about their adventures. I thought they wanted stories between 900 and 3500 words, but it turns out I misread, and it is characters, which means this story is now too long for them but not for you!
I also wanted to take a moment to say welcome to everyone who subscribed in the month of August; good to have you here. For those of you who have been here longer, *high five*, you’re the best. If you haven’t subscribed, think about it. I’ll leave a button down below to make the decision easier. Okay, here we go.
My family wasn’t a camping kind of family; we were more of the let’s enjoy nature but then go to a climate-controlled room at night, sort of family. However, when I turned twelve, my neighbor invited me to the Boy Scouts troop he was part of. My three years there were filled with hiking, camping, and backpacking trips. My time there gave me confidence and a sense of independence that I have always carried with me. I want my kids to be confident and independent, so spending time exploring the great outdoors as a family sounded like a great idea.
My wife and I are always looking for activities we can do as a family. We've ventured out to some stroller-friendly trails close to our home. Hiking season for a family of six in Phoenix, Arizona, is short; the sweet spot for us is the month of October when it's neither too hot nor too cold for our children's standards.
In the summer, we've ventured north to Prescott, Sedona, and Flagstaff to enjoy cooler weather. We've hiked Bell Rock in Sedona several times and enjoyed the natural water slides at Slide Rock State Park, so we started looking at other family-friendly hikes in the area.
We learned about the West Fork of Oak Creek Trail in Sedona one day; this is a moderate yet popular hike, and even though it is an out-and-back six-and-a-half-mile trail, we thought we could hike for about forty-five minutes, have a picnic, and then head back. It would be better to go on a weekday to avoid crowds and secure a parking spot at the trailhead. We decided it would also be an excellent opportunity to go on our first camping trip as a family, so we booked a campsite at Cave Springs Campground through Recreation.gov.
Our maiden voyage was scheduled for the last week of October, the last week of the season. We knew Sedona was slightly cooler than Phoenix, so we didn’t think much about it. It turns out we should’ve given it more thought.
We packed the van, strapped four children in their car seats, and started our family adventure. The check-in time for the campsite was two in the afternoon, so we had some time to kill. We decided to go to a family favorite, Bell Rock. The hike was a success, and everyone was in good spirits. We worked out an appetite, so we headed over to downtown Sedona. When we finished lunch, it was time to go to our campsite.
The weather forecast for that day was a high of fifty-nine and a low of forty-one. The sun would set around six o’clock, giving me about three hours to set up camp and fix dinner for everybody. My wife and the kids explored the campground while I was finishing up. We grilled hot dogs, roasted marshmallows, got everyone in their pajamas, and watched a movie before bedtime. Then, in the morning, we would have breakfast, pack up, and go hiking at West Fork of Oak Creek Trail.
Then it was night.
We thought our baby would sleep in a pack-and-play inside the tent. He wouldn’t. So we wrapped him in a couple of wool blankets and put him next to my wife. She and the three older kids had thirty-five-degree sleeping bags and a pad. My sleeping pad was punctured, so I put my old Coleman rectangular sleeping bag on the floor.
I have no way to prove this, but I’m sure the temperature dropped to freezing that night. We were grossly unprepared for how cold the night was going to be. Our tent has mesh on the top of three walls' sides, allowing air circulation. Air circulation is excellent except when the air is so cold that it feels like you are inside a refrigerator.
None of the sleeping pads were insulated, so the floor was sucking our body heat. I learned after this experience that whatever rating a sleeping bag has means that you won’t die at that temperature, but it doesn’t warrant a good night's sleep. I also learned that adding ten degrees to the bag’s rating is a more realistic comfort rating.
I was frustrated to the point of tears since my kids could fall asleep but couldn’t remain asleep because the cold woke them up. My wife and I kept whispering in the dark, “What should we do?” Should we pack everyone in the van and find a hotel? Should we pack everyone and everything and go home? It was around midnight, and three out of four children were awake because it was too cold in the tent. My wife took them to the van, turned on the heat, and had them sleep in their car seats.
My oldest son slept all night in his sleeping bag and didn’t seem bothered by the cold, so I stayed with him inside the tent. I would go in and out of sleep, shivering, checking on my boy to ensure he was alright. Thinking about what would be happening inside the van, were they okay? Would we get kicked out of the campground? Could they call CPS on us for this? I was spiraling.
Then, all of a sudden, twilight. It was about six in the morning, and my boy woke up as if nothing had happened. We got out of the tent and reunited with the rest of the family in the toasty van; it was heaven. Everyone was alright, tired but alright. I took out my stove, boiled water, and prepared coffee for my wife and me. We fed the children and cleaned them up a bit. Then, I furiously started breaking down camp.
I broke down the camp in half the time it took me to set up. I had never been happier to leave a place before in my life. We canceled the hike and headed home. As we drove away, one of my boys said, “I can’t wait to come back,” which made me feel better about the whole experience.
It’s been ten months since that camping trip. We’re going back to Cave Springs, this time at the beginning of September. I have bought warmer sleeping bags and insulated pads, so this won’t happen again; if anything, the problem I want to have now is that my kids are sweaty inside their sleeping bags. Everyone is excited to return, redeem the last camping trip, and nurture our family tradition.
The most important lesson was that we could do hard things together. And lately, that’s been our family motto. It’s not easy to camp with kids, but they seem to get so much out of it, which makes it worth it. So, get out there and get some fresh air, but maybe check the weather forecast and your sleeping bag rating beforehand.
Before you go
I have some questions for you
Did you grow up camping?
Were you ever in the Boy Scouts, or have you always been cool?
Tent, RV or Glamping?
Are hot dogs and s’mores a must while camping?
Favorite ghost story to tell around the fire?
Feel free to use that one!
4. S’mores are overrated. For hot dogs, Substitute brats grilled in beer with sautéed onions and bell peppers. Canned chili with Mac and cheese mixed in is also a favorite.
5. Camping in the southwest, anything with skin-walkers. From Wikipedia: In Navajo culture, a skin-walker (Navajo: yee naaldlooshii) is a type of harmful witch who has the ability to turn into, possess, or disguise themselves as an animal.
I might have had an encounter with one while backpacking in the San Juan wilderness. I was leading a group of 10ish campers with another counselor. I was hiking in-front and like 100ft away I see this hippy type young dude with a keva sun hat and chacos. He is picking and eating raspberry’s. He doesn’t look at us and just starts running down the trail. The trail turned were he was so I couldn’t see him until I got to that point. I thought “well that guy must like his privacy... or he is paranoid and on shrooms.” I got to the spot where he ran and It was a long straight-away. I didn’t see him so I thought he had just ducked off the trail back to his camp or something. The trail was fresh from a light rain the previous night, so all I saw were his Chaco footprints. The thing is the footprints kept going on the trail. There is no way I wouldn’t have seen him if he kept on the trail running once I reached the turn. But there they were and kept on going......I was getting spooked. I kid you not abruptly with the same stride they turned into dog or wolf prints. I asked, and no one else in my group saw him originally or during the hike. My group just thought I was just laying the foundation of a crazy scary encounter for them in the middle of the night.
I was tempted, but there was no way in hell I was planning to leave the tarp that night.