You guys probably think Walt Francis is exaggerating but I think I might have hunted that same weekend. In fact, I wrote about it in my new book in a chapter on me being stupid (no offense Walt). I think it was the late '70s or maybe '80. I had a big non-typical located in the Ovando archery-only area in late November. The base temperature that day hovered right around 25 below but the winds also kept steady right around around 25 MPH. I have no idea what that wind chill works out to be but it was brutal. I was young, tough and determined. I lasted 3 1/2 hours in the treestand and could have stayed longer because I was dressed for it. But I left for two reasons. First, I was afraid if I drew/shot my bow (70 lbs. +)it might shatter. I was also concerned because my eyes were watering in the high winds and my eyelashes were instantly freezing together every time I blinked. I was worried my hard contact lens were going to pop out. I climbed down and walked back to the truck. Climbing in, I reached up to pull off my face mask, multiple wool hats layered under balaclavas when I about pulled my beard out by the roots. My moist breath was vaporizing for hours and had frozen everything to my beard. I'm talking an inch of solid ice. I felt like a real idiot looking in the truck mirror while trying to chip the ice from my face with the window scraper. Hardcore or crazy... you make the call. I found the above posts intersting in that I also was able to withstand the cold temps a lot easier when I was younger but had less insulation. BW