One day you’ll understand

Published 3:23 pm Thursday, December 18, 2025

The stand was my only option for the afternoon hunt, due to the fierce wind that was blowing in from the north.  Temps had been dropping rapidly since reaching a high of 37 degrees just after lunch, and by morning those temps would be in the low teens with wind chills approaching the single digits.

I had all the windows on the blind closed to retain as much heat as possible, save the one large window in front that allowed me to observe the lane I was hunting.  Unfortunately, that window was also aligned perfectly to allow the full force of the Arctic blast to blow directly into my face.

As I sat watching deer come and go all afternoon, I passed the time singing along (in my mind) with the opening chorus of the song “Scrooge” from “The Muppet Christmas Carol,” a Christmas movie staple in the Dye household.

I had just finished mouthing the words, “When a cold wind blows it chills you, chills you to the bone,” when a doe crossed the far end of the lane.  With the rut ramping up at the farm, I waited in hopes that a buck would appear from the woods in pursuit.

As I waited, I opened a pack of handwarmers and stuck them into each pocket of the down jacket that I was wearing.  I had also broken out my Ullfrotté wool underwear in anticipation of the cold temps that afternoon.  “Woolfrock,” I thought.  “That’s what Pop always called them.”

The undergarments, originally developed in Sweden in the early 1970s, are a godsend for outdoor activities in cold weather.  There was a time in my life when that meant “really cold,” as in don’t wear them unless there’s ice and hoarfrost.  However, as I’ve gotten older, I’ve noticed that the upper limits of those freezing temps seem to get higher with each deer season.

Pop’s “Woolfrock” recalled a conversation we once had while sitting together in our hunting blind in the Big Field one cold day in late December.  He was covered head to toe that afternoon in wool and down, the bulky layers of which gave him the shape of the Michelin Man.

I couldn’t help but smile that afternoon as he hovered over a single-burner propane heater, teeth chattering in the cold as he warmed his hands.  “We’ve hunted in colder temps before,” I thought to myself.  My smile soon turned to laughter as I, still a young man at the time, wondered how he could possibly be that cold.

“How can you be that cold?” I finally asked as we sat watching the food plot, adding, “It’s not even that cold today.”  He turned to me with a slight smile and knowing eyes and said simply, “One day you will understand.”

Sitting in the cold north wind Sunday evening, I understood.  My day of understanding had finally arrived.  Actually, if I’m honest, it arrived (or became noticeable) a few years ago.  As G can attest, when the sun dips behind the trees in early fall and the temperature starts dropping into the 60s, I want a vest.

Sunday afternoon, with the temps falling rapidly, I fully embraced my “Woolfrock” love unashamedly.  I had fully assumed the “Michelin Man” role, a role I now gladly embrace.

My quick Google search from the blind — “Why do we get colder as we get older” — yielded the following results:

“We get colder as we age because of a slower metabolism, less muscle mass (which generates heat), thinner skin with less insulating fat, and poorer circulation, all reducing the body’s ability to produce and retain warmth.”

In addition to these “joys of growing older” comes the reality that our nerve receptors don’t work as quickly.  Thus, the signal from nerve to blood vessel to cause constriction happens gradually, not quickly.  The bottom line is this–older equals colder (i.e., “One day, you’ll understand).

I had also made the decision Sunday when I was heading out to forgo the use of a portable propane heater.  It was a decision made in haste because I couldn’t remember exactly which storage container I had placed the heaters into at the end of last season.

Rest assured, I now know where those heaters are in the mountain of storage containers that inhabits our garage, and I will happily tote said heaters into the woods while Michelin Man clad in my “Woolfrock” and down the next time the temperature dips below 30 (read 40).

Not only will I carry the heater, but I will also consider it my badge of honor, my way of fully acknowledging that “I understand” exactly what Pop was putting down that day in the blind years ago.

Until next time, here’s to lessons learned, to the “understanding” that only comes with experience (and age), and here’s to seeing you out there in our great outdoors.