A group of us are setting off across the Atlantic this winter to explore the Boreal forests of Canada under the guidance of Mors Kochanski.
Some of our party have no prior experience of these conditions, so to assist them in organising their outfit, I put together this mini tutorial.
It then occurred to me that quite a few members of the BushcraftUK community are venturing into the Boreal forests this winter. I know at least 17 of you are signed up for the BCUK Norway Expedition with Bushcraft Expeditions, and then there are those on the Woodsmoke ‘Northern wilderness’ expedition with the Conovers (which I understand has a cancelation place available) and perhaps many more. So I thought I would post this here where it might be of benefit to a wider audience.
This tutorial outlines my personal clothing for extended stays in the Boreal forest wilderness at temperatures dipping to around -30 degrees centigrade; much of my advice is of course based on personal preference, it is intended only to provide guidance until such time as you have developed your own preferences through experience.
First and foremost you should seek and heed the advice of your expedition leader, the advice enclosed here should be viewed as strictly secondary and adjunct to that of your expedition organiser, who will be more familiar with the environment you intend to visit and the specific requirements that your expedition will place upon your choice of clothing. For example travelling by skidoo or on skis will significantly alter your requirements in a way that this tutorial is not intended to cover.
My apologies for the poor quality of the photographs, the light is poor at this time of year and the limitations of my home required the use of a wide angle lens which causes significant distortion, the pixilation of my face is not intended to conceal my identity, but rather to disguise the unsettling distortion of my face!
We shall begin with an overview, then discuss each layer successively:
The observant may notice the prevalence of natural materials, primarily wool, leather and cotton. All insulating layers are wool, reinforced where necessary with leather, the outer windproof layer is of closely woven cotton.
Synthetics have little of benefit to offer in this environment, waterproof membranes are not required; almost all water encountered other than your own perspiration will be in frozen form. Porosity is a far greater requirement, any perspiration which fails to find its way easily to the exterior will form moisture in your insulative layers dramatically undermining their function, even forming frost in the outer layers.
Becoming damp at these temperatures is exceedingly undesirable! For this reason you should aim to regulate your dress throughout the day so as to maintain the sensation of being just a little cold, much as you might experience in an enthusiastically air-conditioned building, rather than aiming to be comfortably snug; this will avoid much of the undesirable perspiration in the first place. To this end, it is not unusual to strip right down to your base layers on the upper half of your body when undertaking hard physical work, such as man hauling or bucking wood.
Synthetics also have a tendency to retain and amplify body odour as a base layer and often lack sufficient resilience for use as an outer layer, being especially susceptible to direct heat. This given your dependence on open fires and stoves is especially troublesome.
Thus the only place in which synthetics are found in any quantity is on the soles of my footwear, where the exceedingly robust nature of synthetic rubber is of benefit, though not essential. In the right conditions leather soles work equally as well, though perhaps with a penalty to longevity.
Those with a keen eye may also have noticed the black 1 pint USAF pilot’s flask which appears in the photograph. Whilst not an item of clothing I attest, I deemed it of sufficient importance to grant it an appearance.
It often comes as a surprise to the uninitiated to discover that the potential for dehydration is significant in this environment, but in my experience it is more insidious in its nature here than in the deserts of the Middle East. At these temperatures the air lacks any inherent moisture, whilst you have the pleasure of watching the moisture stripped from your lungs drift away from you in billowing clouds with each breath. The physical labour of bucking enough wood to satiate the appetite of an open fire when you lack the considerable benefits of a stove adds to this fluid lose considerably. Hydration is further hampered by the lack of water in liquid form, on many occasions the only source of water will be that melted from the surrounding snow, the heating of which consumes much time and fuel, and once obtained any water not judiciously protected will revert quickly to its frozen state.
Thus the flask gains its importance; an unbreakable thermos flask becomes a desired bedtime companion, for the hot drink it provides you with come morning. But an ergonomically shaped flask which will slip easily between your insulating layers will be welcome during the day, nestled above your stomach it will remain liquid and provide you with water on demand, and should be refilled at every opportunity.
The Base layer:
Woollen thermal underwear, clothing at its least complimentary.
Mid-weight long-sleeved Merino wool underwear, give every possible consideration to comfort here, especially around the neck; which should be roomy and avoid any zips or other fasteners. For the legs, I like to run a little colder here, to compensate for the fact that I cannot conveniently regulate the insulation on the lower half of the body as easily as I can the top half.
I also prefer ¾ length wool leggings, since I find that full length leggings invariably bunch up blow the knees during the course of the day anyway, this approach accepts the inevitable without the annoyance of multiple folds of material gathering behind the knees, it also eliminates one of the overlapping layers of material that amass where the mukluks/socks meet the base layers/trousers. The lower halves of the legs are covered by the upper reaches of the long thick wool socks.
Others apparently have no trouble with full length leggings, or else remain stoically quiet on the subject. I must admit here that I still carry a full length pair in my pack as an emergency replacement (should my initial set become wet through some miscalculation) under the assumption that in extreme cold I might want to swap out the ¾ set the extra insulation of the full length pair, but as of yet I haven’t felt the need to do so.
It should be noted that apart from socks and an emergency spare leggings, I don’t carry any additional base layers in my pack. The pair I am wearing will serve for a week, aired each night in the heat of the stove where possible.
The Mid-layers:
Wool trousers, tall enough at the waist to cover the navel and kidneys and roomy enough to accommodate all insulating layers, kept in place with suspenders. This particular pair (Old Swedish army issue) is also equipped with leather straps at the hem to secure them to your footwear.
The upper Mid-layer should be your most versatile; to this end I find a Merino wool ‘hoodie’ with a full length front zip, holes in the wrists to accommodate the thumbs and pockets inside, in which the pilots flask and camera batteries can be kept warm. (The model shown is manufactured by Rammite)
Fully charged camera batteries, if not kept close to the body in extreme cold will discharge in minutes. If it will be necessary for you to refer regularly to your watch, the wrist is a poor location for it; it will be concealed beneath multiple layers of clothing. Attaching your watch to your mid-layer in the manner of a hospital nurse will be more convenient, if your watch is battery powered avoid attaching it to your outer layer for the reasons referred to on the subject of camera batteries.
A wool hat and neck gaiter, both should be given the greatest consideration, for their weight no other items of equipment will be as valuable for keeping you warm. The hat should be capable of comfortably covering the ears, and likewise the gaiter (or if you prefer scarf) should comfortably cover the face up to the bridge of the nose without sacrificing coverage of the neck.
The mukluks, which make an appearance here, will be discussed later.
The 2nd mid layer:
An additional heavy weight wool layer, to be removed and replaced as activity and temperature demand. Cut large enough to cover previous layers without any restriction to movement; the quarter length zip, high collar, and thumb loops are all desirable features.
Note that the suspenders go over all insulating layers; the reason for this may not become apparent, until you are in need of a secluded spot to relieve yourself, and realise that you will have to remove all layers above that of the suspenders to drop your trousers. To quote a famous comedy act “by the time you have found it, you will have forgotten what you wanted it for”
Windproof outer layers:
The final layer serves to keep the wind from disrupting your personal microclimate and protect the layers beneath from accumulating windblown snow. A densely woven cotton smock is ideal; I am fond of this cotton jacket based loosely on the British army arctic smock (which is a smock only in name, having a full length front zip). A hood is essential and a fur ruff is a welcome luxury, I use this jacket in a wide variety of climates, and as such have had to forgo the fur ruff. Pockets should be volumous and secured with large buttons. If the jacket is closed by way of a zip fastening it should be exceptionally robust, the failure of the zipper would undermine the function of the jacket. Zippers should also be fitted with toggles large enough to be operated without removing your mitts.
I prefer to fold the lower half of my jacket back under itself and secure it around the waist with the drawstring, this creates in effect a large pocket around the waist into which I can drop my mitts when I need them out of the way, without risking their loss.
The photograph above shows the hoods of both the jacket and the hoodie employed, and all mid layers zipped up fully with the gaiter covering the face and the hat pulled down over the ears.
The picture below serves to illustrate that properly thought out and sensibly arranged layers allow you to micro-adjust the insulation to meet your requirements.
Should you need to rapidly cool off due to (or in imminent anticipation of) a burst physical excursion, but wish to avoid removing layers around the torso, conscious that they will be required again momentarily or because the situation does not allow; your clothing should be arranged such that you can throw back the hoods and unzip to the chest exposing the head, neck and chest down to the base layer; allowing the chimney effect to rapidly draw away the excess heat from the body. The hat and neck gaiter go into the large pockets on the front of the jacket.
It may also be possible to draw back the sleeves to expose the wrists and forearms, which although not nearly as frequently desired, can also be beneficial when preparing food or working with water that might otherwise result in the insulation here becoming wet.
The Hands:
The hands pose their own special problems, being especially vulnerable to the cold and yet grossly inhibited in their function by any attempt to insulate them.
Many people prefer to wear liner gloves inside their mitts, I do not, reasoning that when I take my hands out of my mitts I want maximum dexterity to get the required task accomplished as fast as possible and allow me to return my hands to the comfort of the mitts more quickly.
I prefer piled wool inner mitts, with a robust leather outer mitt. Other than to open and close your hands lobster fashion, sufficiently enough to control an axe, all further dexterity is sacrificed for warmth. The inner mitt should be easily removed so that it can be hung up in the warmth above the stove, or otherwise taken into your sleeping bag; but fitted to the outer mitt such that the two do not separate when you draw the mitts off during the day. The opening of the mitt should be large enough that you can slide your hands into them as easily as you might a pocket, since once you have one mitt on you will have little to assist you in donning the other.
It is beneficial to have some method by which you can remove your mitts and have them hang from your neck or from your wrists, which does not interfere with donning or doffing them, and prevents them from blowing away when they are removed to perform some momentary task. Losing a mitt will really ruin your day!
I cannot recommend one particular method as I have yet to find one I am entirely happy with. Currently, if I fear there is risk of losing them, I remove my mitts, by partially unzipping the front of my jacket and passing my hand in and between my ribs and elbow, where I can grip the mitt to my side with my arm and withdraw my hand leaving the mitt inside my jacket (which as mention before is closed at the bottom). Repeating with the other side, if both hands are required. It works, but is not ideal.
A soft fluffy section on the back of the mitt is a nice feature for wiping your nose, probably not hygienic but you’ll quickly forgive that.
I also carry a pair of fleece lined leather gloves in the top of my bag, one of which appears in this picture. It’s not always so cold as to require mitts, in which case these provide the necessary warmth whilst affording more dexterity.
Footwear:
My own preference here is for the early version of the Canadian army issue Mukluk, as it draws on much of the technology of traditional native Mukluks without the hefty price tag and with increased durability.
These boots are completely porous with the exception of the rubber sole and a small area over the toe and heel covered by rubber to protect the material beneath. There is no membrane or any attempts made to provide water resistance in the early versions and they are all the better for it, later versions were coated inside up to the ankle, and if you can avoid them you would (in my opinion) be better off with the former.
The porous nature of this sort of footwear allows the insensible perspiration of the feet to escape, where it would otherwise saturate the wool.
Inside the fabric outer are two wool duffel liners, sewn together at the hem, this allows you two pull the inner liner out, creating a double ended sock in appearance, which doubles the surface area and subsequently halves the drying time.
These twin liners sit atop a substantial wool foot bed which insulates the foot from the ground, and this in turn sits atop a woven plastic mesh footbed, which acts as a frost trap, the theory being that as the perspiration travels though the wool foot bed it will eventually freeze as it meets the cold coming up from the ground, the provision of the frost trap attempts to allow most of the frost to accumulate within it where it is easily removed, rather than in the wool footbed.
The duffle liners, footbed and frost trap should be removed each night and hung up to dry in the warmth of the fire/stove, to remove what perspiration remains.
Many shy away from this type of unproofed mukluk, fearing that their feet will get wet from snowmelt. This is a rare event if used with consideration, but should temperatures rise unseasonably or the heat from a long term fire pit has made the immediate area slushy, I can always resolve the problem by removing the liners and stuffing a plastic carrier bag in each mukluk before replacing the liners; instant waterproof membrane, that I can remove at will!
What is certain is that boots with a waterproofing treatment, or ¾ rubber covered duck boots, will become unavoidably damp inside from perspiration, this might not be immediately hazardous, but if you are unable to dry them out overnight, you will find them noticeably colder the next day, and the next even more so, and so forth.
Finally, a few last tips for Mukluks, whilst they are specifically made for the left and right foot respectively, it is often hard to discern which is which without turning them over, to help avoid fussing about trying to put them on the wrong foot in low light, draw a big R and L on the toe (or just the R if you want to be conservative) with indelible marker. Make sure you have them the right way around before commencing though!
The laces (originals replaced with white paracord) are only very loosely retained by six large d-rings, but as such they often shift, resulting in them frequently being longer on one side than the other; to avoid this, simply larks foot the lace to on of the first D-rings nearest the toe.
I hope this is of help to those seeking out the colder places this year.
Some of our party have no prior experience of these conditions, so to assist them in organising their outfit, I put together this mini tutorial.
It then occurred to me that quite a few members of the BushcraftUK community are venturing into the Boreal forests this winter. I know at least 17 of you are signed up for the BCUK Norway Expedition with Bushcraft Expeditions, and then there are those on the Woodsmoke ‘Northern wilderness’ expedition with the Conovers (which I understand has a cancelation place available) and perhaps many more. So I thought I would post this here where it might be of benefit to a wider audience.
This tutorial outlines my personal clothing for extended stays in the Boreal forest wilderness at temperatures dipping to around -30 degrees centigrade; much of my advice is of course based on personal preference, it is intended only to provide guidance until such time as you have developed your own preferences through experience.
First and foremost you should seek and heed the advice of your expedition leader, the advice enclosed here should be viewed as strictly secondary and adjunct to that of your expedition organiser, who will be more familiar with the environment you intend to visit and the specific requirements that your expedition will place upon your choice of clothing. For example travelling by skidoo or on skis will significantly alter your requirements in a way that this tutorial is not intended to cover.
My apologies for the poor quality of the photographs, the light is poor at this time of year and the limitations of my home required the use of a wide angle lens which causes significant distortion, the pixilation of my face is not intended to conceal my identity, but rather to disguise the unsettling distortion of my face!
We shall begin with an overview, then discuss each layer successively:
The observant may notice the prevalence of natural materials, primarily wool, leather and cotton. All insulating layers are wool, reinforced where necessary with leather, the outer windproof layer is of closely woven cotton.
Synthetics have little of benefit to offer in this environment, waterproof membranes are not required; almost all water encountered other than your own perspiration will be in frozen form. Porosity is a far greater requirement, any perspiration which fails to find its way easily to the exterior will form moisture in your insulative layers dramatically undermining their function, even forming frost in the outer layers.
Becoming damp at these temperatures is exceedingly undesirable! For this reason you should aim to regulate your dress throughout the day so as to maintain the sensation of being just a little cold, much as you might experience in an enthusiastically air-conditioned building, rather than aiming to be comfortably snug; this will avoid much of the undesirable perspiration in the first place. To this end, it is not unusual to strip right down to your base layers on the upper half of your body when undertaking hard physical work, such as man hauling or bucking wood.
Synthetics also have a tendency to retain and amplify body odour as a base layer and often lack sufficient resilience for use as an outer layer, being especially susceptible to direct heat. This given your dependence on open fires and stoves is especially troublesome.
Thus the only place in which synthetics are found in any quantity is on the soles of my footwear, where the exceedingly robust nature of synthetic rubber is of benefit, though not essential. In the right conditions leather soles work equally as well, though perhaps with a penalty to longevity.
Those with a keen eye may also have noticed the black 1 pint USAF pilot’s flask which appears in the photograph. Whilst not an item of clothing I attest, I deemed it of sufficient importance to grant it an appearance.
It often comes as a surprise to the uninitiated to discover that the potential for dehydration is significant in this environment, but in my experience it is more insidious in its nature here than in the deserts of the Middle East. At these temperatures the air lacks any inherent moisture, whilst you have the pleasure of watching the moisture stripped from your lungs drift away from you in billowing clouds with each breath. The physical labour of bucking enough wood to satiate the appetite of an open fire when you lack the considerable benefits of a stove adds to this fluid lose considerably. Hydration is further hampered by the lack of water in liquid form, on many occasions the only source of water will be that melted from the surrounding snow, the heating of which consumes much time and fuel, and once obtained any water not judiciously protected will revert quickly to its frozen state.
Thus the flask gains its importance; an unbreakable thermos flask becomes a desired bedtime companion, for the hot drink it provides you with come morning. But an ergonomically shaped flask which will slip easily between your insulating layers will be welcome during the day, nestled above your stomach it will remain liquid and provide you with water on demand, and should be refilled at every opportunity.
The Base layer:
Woollen thermal underwear, clothing at its least complimentary.
Mid-weight long-sleeved Merino wool underwear, give every possible consideration to comfort here, especially around the neck; which should be roomy and avoid any zips or other fasteners. For the legs, I like to run a little colder here, to compensate for the fact that I cannot conveniently regulate the insulation on the lower half of the body as easily as I can the top half.
I also prefer ¾ length wool leggings, since I find that full length leggings invariably bunch up blow the knees during the course of the day anyway, this approach accepts the inevitable without the annoyance of multiple folds of material gathering behind the knees, it also eliminates one of the overlapping layers of material that amass where the mukluks/socks meet the base layers/trousers. The lower halves of the legs are covered by the upper reaches of the long thick wool socks.
Others apparently have no trouble with full length leggings, or else remain stoically quiet on the subject. I must admit here that I still carry a full length pair in my pack as an emergency replacement (should my initial set become wet through some miscalculation) under the assumption that in extreme cold I might want to swap out the ¾ set the extra insulation of the full length pair, but as of yet I haven’t felt the need to do so.
It should be noted that apart from socks and an emergency spare leggings, I don’t carry any additional base layers in my pack. The pair I am wearing will serve for a week, aired each night in the heat of the stove where possible.
The Mid-layers:
Wool trousers, tall enough at the waist to cover the navel and kidneys and roomy enough to accommodate all insulating layers, kept in place with suspenders. This particular pair (Old Swedish army issue) is also equipped with leather straps at the hem to secure them to your footwear.
The upper Mid-layer should be your most versatile; to this end I find a Merino wool ‘hoodie’ with a full length front zip, holes in the wrists to accommodate the thumbs and pockets inside, in which the pilots flask and camera batteries can be kept warm. (The model shown is manufactured by Rammite)
Fully charged camera batteries, if not kept close to the body in extreme cold will discharge in minutes. If it will be necessary for you to refer regularly to your watch, the wrist is a poor location for it; it will be concealed beneath multiple layers of clothing. Attaching your watch to your mid-layer in the manner of a hospital nurse will be more convenient, if your watch is battery powered avoid attaching it to your outer layer for the reasons referred to on the subject of camera batteries.
A wool hat and neck gaiter, both should be given the greatest consideration, for their weight no other items of equipment will be as valuable for keeping you warm. The hat should be capable of comfortably covering the ears, and likewise the gaiter (or if you prefer scarf) should comfortably cover the face up to the bridge of the nose without sacrificing coverage of the neck.
The mukluks, which make an appearance here, will be discussed later.
The 2nd mid layer:
An additional heavy weight wool layer, to be removed and replaced as activity and temperature demand. Cut large enough to cover previous layers without any restriction to movement; the quarter length zip, high collar, and thumb loops are all desirable features.
Note that the suspenders go over all insulating layers; the reason for this may not become apparent, until you are in need of a secluded spot to relieve yourself, and realise that you will have to remove all layers above that of the suspenders to drop your trousers. To quote a famous comedy act “by the time you have found it, you will have forgotten what you wanted it for”
Windproof outer layers:
The final layer serves to keep the wind from disrupting your personal microclimate and protect the layers beneath from accumulating windblown snow. A densely woven cotton smock is ideal; I am fond of this cotton jacket based loosely on the British army arctic smock (which is a smock only in name, having a full length front zip). A hood is essential and a fur ruff is a welcome luxury, I use this jacket in a wide variety of climates, and as such have had to forgo the fur ruff. Pockets should be volumous and secured with large buttons. If the jacket is closed by way of a zip fastening it should be exceptionally robust, the failure of the zipper would undermine the function of the jacket. Zippers should also be fitted with toggles large enough to be operated without removing your mitts.
I prefer to fold the lower half of my jacket back under itself and secure it around the waist with the drawstring, this creates in effect a large pocket around the waist into which I can drop my mitts when I need them out of the way, without risking their loss.
The photograph above shows the hoods of both the jacket and the hoodie employed, and all mid layers zipped up fully with the gaiter covering the face and the hat pulled down over the ears.
The picture below serves to illustrate that properly thought out and sensibly arranged layers allow you to micro-adjust the insulation to meet your requirements.
Should you need to rapidly cool off due to (or in imminent anticipation of) a burst physical excursion, but wish to avoid removing layers around the torso, conscious that they will be required again momentarily or because the situation does not allow; your clothing should be arranged such that you can throw back the hoods and unzip to the chest exposing the head, neck and chest down to the base layer; allowing the chimney effect to rapidly draw away the excess heat from the body. The hat and neck gaiter go into the large pockets on the front of the jacket.
It may also be possible to draw back the sleeves to expose the wrists and forearms, which although not nearly as frequently desired, can also be beneficial when preparing food or working with water that might otherwise result in the insulation here becoming wet.
The Hands:
The hands pose their own special problems, being especially vulnerable to the cold and yet grossly inhibited in their function by any attempt to insulate them.
Many people prefer to wear liner gloves inside their mitts, I do not, reasoning that when I take my hands out of my mitts I want maximum dexterity to get the required task accomplished as fast as possible and allow me to return my hands to the comfort of the mitts more quickly.
I prefer piled wool inner mitts, with a robust leather outer mitt. Other than to open and close your hands lobster fashion, sufficiently enough to control an axe, all further dexterity is sacrificed for warmth. The inner mitt should be easily removed so that it can be hung up in the warmth above the stove, or otherwise taken into your sleeping bag; but fitted to the outer mitt such that the two do not separate when you draw the mitts off during the day. The opening of the mitt should be large enough that you can slide your hands into them as easily as you might a pocket, since once you have one mitt on you will have little to assist you in donning the other.
It is beneficial to have some method by which you can remove your mitts and have them hang from your neck or from your wrists, which does not interfere with donning or doffing them, and prevents them from blowing away when they are removed to perform some momentary task. Losing a mitt will really ruin your day!
I cannot recommend one particular method as I have yet to find one I am entirely happy with. Currently, if I fear there is risk of losing them, I remove my mitts, by partially unzipping the front of my jacket and passing my hand in and between my ribs and elbow, where I can grip the mitt to my side with my arm and withdraw my hand leaving the mitt inside my jacket (which as mention before is closed at the bottom). Repeating with the other side, if both hands are required. It works, but is not ideal.
A soft fluffy section on the back of the mitt is a nice feature for wiping your nose, probably not hygienic but you’ll quickly forgive that.
I also carry a pair of fleece lined leather gloves in the top of my bag, one of which appears in this picture. It’s not always so cold as to require mitts, in which case these provide the necessary warmth whilst affording more dexterity.
Footwear:
My own preference here is for the early version of the Canadian army issue Mukluk, as it draws on much of the technology of traditional native Mukluks without the hefty price tag and with increased durability.
These boots are completely porous with the exception of the rubber sole and a small area over the toe and heel covered by rubber to protect the material beneath. There is no membrane or any attempts made to provide water resistance in the early versions and they are all the better for it, later versions were coated inside up to the ankle, and if you can avoid them you would (in my opinion) be better off with the former.
The porous nature of this sort of footwear allows the insensible perspiration of the feet to escape, where it would otherwise saturate the wool.
Inside the fabric outer are two wool duffel liners, sewn together at the hem, this allows you two pull the inner liner out, creating a double ended sock in appearance, which doubles the surface area and subsequently halves the drying time.
These twin liners sit atop a substantial wool foot bed which insulates the foot from the ground, and this in turn sits atop a woven plastic mesh footbed, which acts as a frost trap, the theory being that as the perspiration travels though the wool foot bed it will eventually freeze as it meets the cold coming up from the ground, the provision of the frost trap attempts to allow most of the frost to accumulate within it where it is easily removed, rather than in the wool footbed.
The duffle liners, footbed and frost trap should be removed each night and hung up to dry in the warmth of the fire/stove, to remove what perspiration remains.
Many shy away from this type of unproofed mukluk, fearing that their feet will get wet from snowmelt. This is a rare event if used with consideration, but should temperatures rise unseasonably or the heat from a long term fire pit has made the immediate area slushy, I can always resolve the problem by removing the liners and stuffing a plastic carrier bag in each mukluk before replacing the liners; instant waterproof membrane, that I can remove at will!
What is certain is that boots with a waterproofing treatment, or ¾ rubber covered duck boots, will become unavoidably damp inside from perspiration, this might not be immediately hazardous, but if you are unable to dry them out overnight, you will find them noticeably colder the next day, and the next even more so, and so forth.
Finally, a few last tips for Mukluks, whilst they are specifically made for the left and right foot respectively, it is often hard to discern which is which without turning them over, to help avoid fussing about trying to put them on the wrong foot in low light, draw a big R and L on the toe (or just the R if you want to be conservative) with indelible marker. Make sure you have them the right way around before commencing though!
The laces (originals replaced with white paracord) are only very loosely retained by six large d-rings, but as such they often shift, resulting in them frequently being longer on one side than the other; to avoid this, simply larks foot the lace to on of the first D-rings nearest the toe.
I hope this is of help to those seeking out the colder places this year.
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