Spent the weekend near Higgins Lake, MI, visiting my parents-in-law, attending a carnival on and adjacent to a frozen lake, and cross-country skiing. When we went out this morning, it was -19 degrees with no windchill. Leaving the cottage I burned two of my knuckles on the sub-zero metal of the storm door.
That ice in my beard is my frozen breath, as is the ice crusting my scarf, and in my hair by my ear (I breath like nuts when I’m trying to regain sensation in my thumbs, toes, knees, etc.) We were only out for ~45 minutes.
Also spotted on this jaunt: Private land adjacent to the state park demarcated by 1) A large hand-painted “PRIVATE” sign and 2) a pair of deer rib cages rotted to the bone and hung ~10 feet up in the crooks of a pair of trees flanking the sign. Yes, Michigan!