Winter camping on a rock ledge: Trusting my gear, feeling like home.

Written by Kate Grarock, Photos by Stevie Reinhart

 There’s something wild and unforgettable about sleeping on an exposed rock ledge, high above a valley, in the middle of winter. No tent. Just me, the stars, and my sleeping bag, oh and two of the guys from the Mont crew.

I camped up there with good company, great food and amazing gear. The exhilaration was real. The cold didn’t matter. I felt free, happy, and completely immersed in the experience. Moments like that remind me why I love being in nature: it's raw, it's challenging, and when you're prepared, it’s deeply rewarding.

 We lay there talking, laughing, letting the cold air bite our cheeks while the rest of our bodies stayed toasty and protected. There was no distraction. No phone reception. No schedule. Just that deep, soul-level joy that comes from feeling utterly present in nature. And that’s why I love being in nature, the reason I love these kinds of experiences, it’s that incredible sense of enough. When you have a sleeping bag that feels like home, even on an icy rock in the middle of nowhere, you realise you don’t need much else to be wildly happy.

The frost crept in thick and fast, covering the landscape in silver. I remember looking out at Sam’s bag twinkling in the moonlight covered in gems of frost. I heard dingoes calling far bellow in the valley. Despite the plummeting temps I was warm, dry, and totally at ease. That kind of peace only comes when you trust your gear. It gives you the space to relax and connect with nature.

My Mont Brindabella sleeping bag has been with me through the extremes — including when I was on Alone, surviving off the land in brutal, wet cold with barely any calories. It became my safe place. My home. Every time I slide into my sleeping bag, that memory comes back. Not just the physical comfort, but the emotional one. The sense of safety, self-reliance, and joy that only comes when you strip life back to the essentials and find they’re more than enough. It’s more than just gear. It’s what allows me to let go of worry and fully be out there — present, connected, and alive.