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I will attempt to not make this a blogpost but just apologizing now in case it is.
I grew up in New England and have since moved countries (like 20 years ago). However, for a short period I moved back to MA because I was dealing with some visa hell in my country of residence, so I spent three whole years destitute back in my hometown while I sorted shit out. Anyway, I spent all my time with my lifelong childhood friends, and almost every weekend we would buy beers and go into our childhood woods at night and down to the train tracks to roam and be drunk and loud in absolute remote solitude. It was a great outlet for us to blow off steam, and for me it was a way of escaping my problems and anxieties about my failed situation.
One weekend night in winter I was hanging out with my friend at his place, at the edge of the famed woods, middle of fucking January and it was literally -4ºF (-20ºC) plus wind, and with our boots and jeans and my fingerless gloves we got drunk and went out to tromp around the snow in the fucking woods at like midnight. When you're drunk you can tolerate a lot, but after about 40mins we realized we couldn't drink anymore because our beers had frozen solid, including the open beer I was holding in my fucking hand. We sat down in the snow and realized we were getting migraines from the cold effecting our skulls, and we suddenly realized that being blitzed drunk in that kind of weather in the middle of nowhere at night is super fucking dangerous, so we hoofed it back. By the time we got back to his house we could barely walk or breathe anymore. Fun memories.
Pic related however it's not from the night in question.
