In January of '82 I visited friends in (Why not?) Minot, ND for 4 months total. One night as we were enjoying a fermented beverage or 12, the DJ on the radio station said that with the windchill the temp outside was -72*. We glanced at each other and in a 'hold my beer' moment, we bundled up (taking said beer with us) and went out to experience the sensation that is 72 below. Lasted all of about 5 minutes when the novelty wore right the fuck off. Never again, not on purpose; although I've seen my share of down to 30 below out in the midwest trailer trucking in those later years.

There's a reason I moved down to purt near sea level in a coastal region. It wasn't for the shits and grins... and CA just doesn't do it for me in the summer.