I have found that traveling alone in the wilderness using minimal gear requires more decisions to be made than if one were to travel with companions using much of the latest gear such as sleeping bags, ground pads, tents and stoves. Some of these decisions are minor such as where one should hang their socks to dry or what flavor power bar to eat, but most deal with life and death decisions; shelter, fire, water, food, etc.
On the battlefield, soldiers are expected to take orders and follow them without question.Without that kind of discipline, many lives may be at risk and the mission at hand placed in jeopardy. A lone traveler in the wilderness does not have the opportunity to consult others to help with important decisions. Their brains must act as "commanding officer," and their bodies as "infantrymen."
Through experience, a good soldier develops a keen sense of battle instinct in order to survive, sometimes referred to as "the little voice". Like the soldier, the wilderness traveler often has to rely on "the little voice" to help make decisions that may save his life. Without common sense, death is certain.
On my most recent solo trip into the wilderness, I was faced with having to make most of the usual decisions I've had to make in the past that dealt with water, food, shelter, and the other "basics" found in survival type camping. There was however a new element thrown in that I've never had to face before; a forest fire.
Here's my story.
This trip was planned as a treasure hunt of sorts. I would be traveling to an area in the Sierras that I had never been to before, searching for a cache of equipment and supplies. I didn't have a lot of information to go on but that was OK, for if I known exactly where this cache was, well, it wouldn't be that much of a search for hidden treasure now would it?
As I drove through the desert the first evening, I began to smell smoke. The campfire kind. Gradually, the valley in which I was driving through became a smoke filled holocaust. The headlights from other vehicles were blood red and the sun setting behind the mountain range looked like a nuclear bomb blast. It was a very surreal scene.
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| Sunrise
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| The next morning, I woke up to a sunrise straight out of a science fiction film. The smoke filled air acted as a filter offering many shades of dramatic colors. The folks at ILM should have been there to take notes because it was truly a spectacular event. As I sat in my chair looking off toward the horizon, sipping a cup of steaming coffee, I couldn't help wondering about where the source was for all the smoke I was seeing. Was it coming from the area I would be traveling to?
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| The long, hot climb
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| I started up the mountainside at around 7:30 AM. It wasn't long before the temperatures began to climb. Within a couple hours, the thermometer on my watch read 93 degrees. Even though my map was indicating there would be a stream along the way, I hadn't seen any signs of water. I was carrying two quarts of water so I figured it should last me for a while.
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| Dr. Scholls for horses?
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| Often times, as I'm trudging up a long slope with my head down, I tend to notice an occasional item of interest laying to the side of the trail. Some items, mostly trash, may be of some use in the days ahead so I pick them up and shove them into my pack. Some I have to study for a while and try to figure out just what it is I'm looking at.
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| Not a good sign
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| Other items actually make me laugh out loud. Beer cans for instance. I try to imagine the slob that would choose to drink beer over water, then actually have the nerve to toss it along the trail.
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| The Sword & the Stone
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| It was a hot long climb. Luckily, there were many nice shaded areas along the way in which to rest. Under one particular tree, there was a large chunk of granite that had had to be cleared from the trail using dynamite.
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| Taking a rest
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| For a back rest, I inserted my walking stick into one of the holes that the explosives were placed in. Sometimes the simplest ideas can make all the difference in comfort.
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| Springs: small in size yet vital for sustaining life
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| After a couple hours, I was nearing the end of my water supply. I noticed a game trail off to the side of the main trail I was traveling on so I began to follow it. I noticed birds gathering in the distance as well as greener, more abundant foliage. As I stood looking over a dry creek bed, I noticed a shimmer of light. Water. I found a small spring and proceeded to scoop up handfuls of water into my two water bottles.
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| Water trough
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| Soon after finding the water source, I came to the remains of an old water trough. The trail that I had been traveling along is also used by ranchers to bring their stock into the mountains for grazing. This trough must have been one of their main sources of water. To be honest, I wasn'treally thinking about how the trough was used for water. I was thinking how nice a cabin foundation it would make!
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| A gift
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| As I was traveling through the mountain pass, I began noticing very small pieces of obsidian flakes to the side of the trail. At one point I looked down and saw what appeared to be part of an arrowhead. Upon closer examination, it was apparent that it was indeed part of an arrowhead. There were small chips missing so it was in fact knapped in detail at one time. Whether it had had ever ended up being a "user" is unclear.
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| Abandoned cow camp
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| Within a couple miles I came across an old cow camp. It was deserted at the time but was obviously a heavily used camp. There was a large corral, a fenced in pasture area out in a nearby meadow, and many interesting camp items including an old iron oven. At first I was a little confused with the camps location. My map showed a corral but it was supposed to be off on another trail. I soon reasoned that it was, in fact, a private camp, therefore it wouldn't be featured on my map. To my knowledge, the only corrals listed on USFS topo maps are for public use.
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| Where there's smoke...
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| Ever since I came over the first pass, I had been smelling smoke. The further I traveled, the more pronounced the smell became. The trees were shrouded in a smokey haze, and the sun was hidden behind a red mask. I was beginning to have an uneasy feeling about where the fire may be. I was beginning to question whether or not I should continue.
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| Ash
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| Finally, I stopped. I went over to a nearby tree and sat for a moment. I got up and walked a few more feet. I stopped.I looked at the ground and began to draw shapes in the sand using my walking stick. I looked down the trail at the smokey tree line. I looked behind me. I listened to the dead silence. I was struggling with my thoughts. Should I go on? Should I turn around?
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| A smokey world
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| At that moment, something happened. It was as though someone lifted my glasses, spread my eye lids wide open, then blew a large breath of burning smoke directly in my eyes. From that moment, there was no need for anymore thinking on my part, I immediately turned around and headed back the way I came. Within a second or two of my turning, I heard the sound of helicopter engines in the distance...in the direction I would be traveling to.
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| A smoke filled sky
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| I remember thinking that I was not going to ask questions. I specifically ask for strength and guidance before each trip. I ask that I be watched over and for help in making the right decisions. I was listening to "the little voice" inside of me. I knew I was doing the right thing. If I went against what was being "said" to me, figuring I'd take the risk, everything that I had asked for would be useless and I may not be offered assistance the next time a "situation" arises. My thoughts were at ease.
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| Another gift
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| Water. Other than the first spring I had found on the other side of the pass, I had not seen any. Using the same technique I used earlier, I began searching for some signs. I eventually found another dry creek only this time there was more damp soil. Following the creek bed, I eventually came to a small trickle of water running over the side of a rock. In a few moments, I had two full bottles of cool water.
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| Home for the next couple days
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| Shelter. A group of large boulders in the distance caught my attention...the dark area in the middle of them in particular. After exploring the boulders, I eventually settled on a cave type rock formation that I thought would provide the best protection from the elements. The only thing that would be required was a bed of some sort that would insulate me from the cold ground. A pine needle bed was the obvious choice.
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| More than enough room
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I took notice to the many dead trees, often times called "widow makers" still standing in the area in which I would be staying. Had I not found the "cave" to stay in for safety reasons, I would have made my camp elsewhere.
Although there were many pine trees around, the needles beneath them were filled with debris type material such as pine cones, twigs and small stones. It would be time consuming to pick out all the material to make a comfortable bed. Also, considering how many trees there were around me, there just didn't seem like many had accumulated a deep ground layer of needles.
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| H. Roselli Hunters Knife & Gransfors Bruks Wildlife Hatchet
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| Testing out the bough bed
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| Writing in my journal
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Eventually, I decided to make a bough bed by cutting down a small sapling. I really didn't want to use a live tree, but it was getting late in the day and I had to get started. Rather than cutting down the first tree I came across, I used some woodlot management skills and tried to select a tree that may have the least chance of surviving through the years ahead.
I found a clump of small trees, then tried to select one that in my opinion may eventually lose the battle for light and nourishment. I used every bough when making my very fragrant and comfortable bough bed. I couldn't have asked for a better nights sleep.
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| Workin' at the saw-mill
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The next morning I started to settle into a routine and soon began looking for a project. I knew that my good friend Wally had just recently moved into a beautiful new home that included a spectacular shop area in which to work. Of course, no shop is complete without a sign announcing just who the shop belongs to. Yep, Wally needs a sign. But how will I pack it out? Oh, I'll worry about that later...
The first thing I had to look for was a nice board type piece of wood. Most of the wood I found was cracked and weathered but I soon stumbled across a tree that had blown over and split into some nice pieces, Using my Svensaw, I cut off a section that I felt would be good for carving .
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| Carving with the Roselli knife
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| Well, I had never carved a sign by hand for anyone before so it was a learn as I go process. Fortunately, the wood I selected was ideal for carving. Using my treasured H. Roselli Hunters Knife, I carved for the next several hours. It was very relaxing carving in the shade, listening to the sounds of the woods, making something for a friend. I'm sure my grandfather had a proud smile on his face as he looked down on me. Grandpa Charles was a brilliant woodworker. I often remember working side by side with him in his shop...munching on peanuts...talking...
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| Tools I used to make Wallys sign
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| Wallys sign was turning out much better than I had anticipated and I was really looking forward to sending it off to him. On my next trip, I'd like to make my mother a special sign for her beautiful garden that reads: "In Junes Garden". But how would I pack it out? Oh, I'll worry about that later...
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| Completed sign
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| OK, it was time to give Wallys sign that little "Woodsdrummer touch." Naturally, I had already found and had been digging up old cans, bottles, jars and other "woods junk" left behind from the old days. I had a couple old "Log Cabin" syrup cans that I thought I may be able to incorporate into Wallys sign. Being sure to wear my elkskin gloves to protect my hands from cuts, and using the can opener feature on my Rucksack I proceeded to cut out a small door and window on the cabin shaped can. I then cut away some of the material on the sides and fitted "Wallys Shop" on the end of the sign. Done. But how will I pack it out? Oh, I'll worry about that later... I got it! The map pocket on the back of my Filsons Cruiser!
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| Testing Garrett cartidges...wilderness style!
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| Now that Wallys sign was completed, I was now in need of another project. Remembering how well the Garrett . 44 magnum cartridges were supposed to perform, I decided to conduct a penetration test. Wilderness style. I went back over to the "board log" and began cutting off small, thick sections of wood.
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| The results
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| A 21" Svensaw for reference
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| The 330-grain bullet showing little deformation
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I took the sections over to a nearby tree and placed them on top of a plank. The entire assembly was backed up against the tree trunk to provide a solid backing. Lying in the prone position from a distance of about 15 feet, I fired a shot directly into the center of the stack. The 330-grain bullet firing at approximately 1385 feet per second, penetrated all nine pieces of pine, eventually coming to a stop and lodging halfway between the tenth piece, splitting it in half.
Other than some slight groove like scarring, the bullet was unaffected by the impact therefore retaining all of its original shape.
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| Staying organized
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| Staying organized is one of the keys to not losing personal gear in the wilderness. In my "den" I was lucky enough to have a small "shelf" in the boulder next to my sleeping area. I always knew where to find a certain item when I needed it. Whenever I was through working out in the woods, I was always sure to return my tools and gear to this area.
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| Punky wood...
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| The "board log" I had been working from contained a lot of punky, dead chunks of wood. At one point while I was working, I took a piece and ground it between my fingers into a fine dust. I wondered if the dust would work as tinder. Would it catch and hold a spark. Time for another project.
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| ...another source of tinder
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| The "fire dust" as I call it, works extremely well for producing a coal. Depending on the size of the pile, the "fire dust" will sit and smolder indefinitely.
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| Igniting the "fire dust" using a burning lens
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I filled the cap from my tobacco tin half full of "fire dust" and lit it using the burning lens and the sun. While resting in my den, I timed how long it took the coal to extinguish. The coal remained burning for a little over 30 minutes.
There is an endless supply of this punky type wood where I travel. I'm excited to have a new tinder to work with. I'd like to construct some type of coal carrier to see if I could carry a coal from one camp to the other or at least have a coal waiting for my morning fire.
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| "Woodsdrummer 7.25.02"
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I do believe the artist is supposed to sign their work. OK, now I'm done.
As usual, my walk back to the trailhead was a time to reflect on the lessons learned during the past couple days. Even though my original plans had changed, I feel as though the trip was a success. I listened to and followed my wilderness instincts. "The little voice" kept me out of danger and for that I am grateful. I may never know if I would have traveled into danger had I gone any further, but that is unimportant to me. What is important, is the fact that my wilderness instinct skills were put to the test and quite possibly fine tuned to a higher notch.
The End
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Copyright © 2001 by Eric Stoskopf.
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