I have loved playing outside in the winter for as long as I can remember. I’ve always loved bundling up into as many layers of clothes as I can and then shoving my way into the warmest coat, mittens, hat, and scarf that I can find. As a child I spent as many hours as I could outside. I remember my parents having to call me to come in when dinner was ready or when it was about to get dark. I would reluctantly obey and enter our mudroom to take off my clothes and dry my soaking wet mittens on the heater.
As I grew older I still loved spending any free time I got outside each winter. Rather than simply playing in the snow I now spent the hours hiking, skiing, and eventually even snowboarding. I couldn’t wait to get home from school, throw my book bag onto my bedroom and floor and begin dressing in the warmest winter gear I could find. I had special mittens by this point that kept my fingers so warm that I almost forgot it was winter.
After high school I took a service trip to Mongolia. I had been warned that it would be cold there so I had packed accordingly, filling my bag with wool sweaters, long johns, warm socks, my heaviest coat, and as many pairs of...
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