Bushcraft Course with Mors Kochanski - Driving Down to New Hampshire

Last Friday I drove down to New Hampshire to participate in a course taught by Mors Kochanski at Tim Smith's Jack Mountain Bushcraft & Guide School. I bade farewell to Spring and to Monty at the the house at 4 in the morning and drove about 30 minutes to a town east of Toronto. There, I met up at a Tim Horton's with Decado who provided me with a walkie-talkie, and a generous gift of a walking stick that he had carved himself (a picture of which I shall post soon enough). When I post pictures I will encourage everyone to commission one for themselves.



My trusty GPS device led me along the winding path, Decado followed at a distance and we kept in crackly-touch during the 15 1/2 hour drive using the walkie-talkies, pretending to be gnarly truckers. 10-4 Roger that, etc... Copy that.



We crossed the border into the United States of America (also known as 'The States', 'America' and the 'U.S.'). This fairly large country is located immediately south of Canada, and immediately north of Mexico. It contains Mount Rushmore, Old Faithful (in Yellowstone National Park), Arnold Schwarzenegger (in Calee-Fornia), Britney Spears, and the Corn Palace in Mitchell, South Dakota. It also contains New Hampshire and Adirondack mountains.



We drove through the latter to arrive at the former. Stopping first for the obligatory McDonald's meal at a McDonald's beside the Fort Drum Military Reservation and Base in New York, home of the Army's 10th Mountain Division, we lined up behind a gaggle of soldiers dressed in fatigues, ordering Big Macs, Filet o' Fishes, and Chicken McNuggets. This made the war in Iraq and Afghanistan somehow more real to me. These were young soldiers - purposeful and serious.



This original and brilliantly conceived photograph is of the sign at the western entrance of the Adirondack national park.



Every so often I would make an ill-conceived, abrupt and somewhat madly inefficient stop to take a photograph. Decado is seen above seething with anger and utter fear due to the abrupt stop. The backdrop looks more magnificent in real life. Not including this photo would minimize the suffering he experienced during the long, caffeine-fueled ride. He was a pleasant fellow to be around during the weekend and I suspect was tempted to kidnap Mors Kochanski and take him home to Georgetown, Ontario.



Lake Placid was the location for the Winter Olympics in the year 1980. I believe that downhill skiing, the luge, the elbow, the Charleston and the Wankel Rotary Engine were all sports showcased in this picturesque vista. The town of Lake Placid - known for its freakishly large alligators - is a posh town, populated by extremely well-dressed, rich-looking folks. They earn their living from selling alligator meat and conducting tours of dusty, deserted Olympic venues.



My little camera doesn't pick up the whoops of excitement I expressed at seeing genuine lumpy things called mountains (of which there are none in or around Toronto). Despite this limitation, you can look at the images, say 'Whoo!' to yourself, and that will sort of bring you around to how I was feeling.





At the south end of Lake Champlain, we drove through Moriah. This is a really cool name. I think it would be a good name for a pet iguana. It contains magnetite deposits that would make your compass have a fit. It also is the site of some fairly horrific, albeit historical battles. It makes me want to learn more about early U.S. history.



This bridge gets you over to the other side of Lake Champlain.



Ticonderoga is another nice looking town. Ticonderoga is a great sounding name, I think I would name a chocolate bar the 'Ticonderoga Bar'. It would contain caramel, and crunchy peanuts. The commercial jingle would be very solemn sounding. Ticonder-OOOGGAAAA!!!!



I think I would like to stay in the town of Lake Placid for a while. I don't really ski or anything, but I enjoy bowling and I am certain that they have a good bowling alley or two. I'd have a beer or two while bowling. Yes. Yes. That is a plan.



If you stick your arm out of the car and take photographs, you likely won't get magnificent photos like you thought you would. Case in point above.



I pulled over to take photos of Theodore and Duncan. These cute donkeys had a little run of their own, surrounded by gobbling turkeys. A sign on their stall read 'Theodore and Duncan'. Those were their names. I don't know what the turkeys' names were. They did not have their names inscribed in a sign hung above a stall.



Theodore and Duncan were about 4 feet high and quite fuzzy and very curious about me. I wanted to take one or both along with me. While I could have (practically speaking), because all my camping gear was in the trunk, and the back seats were unoccupied, I am really not certain what donkeys eat and decided not to take them along for the rest of the ride.



Next time I will ask them to accompany me on the ride.



It's a good thing that I didn't bring them though, because the ride was really long, and donkeys bray loudly when bored (I imagine). Two loudly braying donkeys in a car just make a drive miserable.



Soon the verdant hills and placid mountains of the Adirondacks and Vermont turned to the more rugged mountains of New Hampshire.



We drove the last hour or so in the dark, and found ourselves in deserted meadows a couple of times due to my inept and blind faith in my GPS device.



Finally we got to a dirt road, allowed a waddling porcupine to cross, and pulled into the Jack Mountain Bushcraft & Guide School property.



Tim Smith et al. were clustered around a picnic table having a bite to eat for dinner.



We shook hands, met the other 4 students and Mors Kochanski and settled in.



I set up my tarp in about 3 minutes, and settled down by the fire. We sat, talked, met one another and drank a bottle of beer or two.



It was a good start to a nice evening and a nice couple of days down there. I will follow with more posts detailing the following days.

Cheers,

Mungo

In Flanders' Fields

IN FLANDERS' FIELDS the poppies blow
Between the crosses row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders' fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders' fields.

By: Major John McCrae, MD (1872-1918)
Canadian Army



The poppy is the recognized symbol of remembrance for war dead in Canada, the countries of the British Commonwealth, and the United States. The flower owes its significance to the poem In Flanders' Fields, written by Major (later Lieutenant-Colonel) John McCrae, a doctor with the Canadian Army Medical Corps, in the midst of the Second Battle of Ypres, in Belgium, in May 1915.

Lest We Forget.

The Backyard Shed is Varnished

Last week I decided to varnish the newly built backyard shed. It will now be ready for the rains, the hail and snows of winter. I bought a gallon of outdoors, water-soluble Varathane polyurethane varnish, and a couple of cheap brushes.



I popped the can open with a screwdriver, and put the lid inside the shed on the work bench I have been using.



I have extra wood left over from the build - this will come in handy for future projects.



Using my father's patented door-keeper-opener, I cleaned up around the shed and placed any loose pieces of wood and nails into the shed, and I got ready to varnish.



The door handle mechanism mounts nicely in the door.



The handle and hinges complement one another - and finish the look nicely.



I began by cutting the edges with varnish - I covered the trim pieces, the shutters and door first. In all, it took me about 2 hours.





Once I had covered the trim, I began work on the broad surfaces of the walls. Whatever varnish I had left, I used to paint the long shelves inside.

















When I was done, Monty and I played a spirited game of fetch.



The final result was very pleasing. The wood will a naturally age and change colour under the varnish, but will be less inclined to rot or break down due to water damage.





Monty's pathway around the shed is tidied up and ready for his regular reconnaissance patrols.





The shed is - for all intents and purposes - finished for the year. Next spring a ramp will need to be installed, and perhaps a couple of aesthetic touches can be added. Perhaps a hanging plant pot, a bird feeder or something like that - we'll see.

Cheers,

Mungo

Back from New Hampshire Bushcraft Course with Mors Kochanski

Well, I'm back from the bushcraft course taught by Mors Kochanski this past long weekend at Jack Mountain Bushcraft and Guide School in New Hampshire.



The 15 1/2 hour trip (just driving there) through the Adirondacks was spectacular, and after an amazing 3 nights and 2 days, I am back at work.

I am tired.



I will be posting photographs, commentaries and links in the next couple of days. I need to rest first though and compose my (many) thoughts on my experiences there.

Cheers,

Mungo

Packed for my Camping Trip!

I have packed for my trip down to New Hampshire. Everything - and I mean everything, from my tarp tent, to my Thermarest mattress, my sleeping bag, my folding chair (without legs), my axe, my bucksaw, food for 4 full days (mostly dehydrated but some tins), stove, cooking pot, and everything in between fits into or onto my exterior frame knapsack.



Including knapsack, it all weighs 43 1/2 pounds. I think that's pretty good for an all-inclusive pack. I wore it around the house, and it actually doesn't feel too heavy - the knapsack fits really well and the belly strap takes the weight down into my legs.

I am sure I could shed 5 - 10 pounds of the load if I was to be ruthless - but I think I'll be fine. For a 4 day trip, this is not bad. I brought cans of tuna, meat and stew and had I bought (expensive) freeze-dried meals, I could easily lose 6 to 7 pounds of the load.

Anyway, 43 1/2 pounds. Not bad! Up in Northern Ontario, with the supplies I have, I could live for a month alone in the woods. Just as long as I was able to catch fish and forage for the right plant foods and do some deadfall trapping.



It wouldn't be that tricky. At work we have a 1-mile track around the campus. It leads through some overgrown wild(ish) areas of Scarborough, Ontario. I have been walking this with a colleague over the past few days to get a bit of exercise and to decompress from work somewhat. Over the past week, I have eaten Bee balm, wild carrot, wild grape, rosehips, wild onions, dandelion leaves (but not the root - but I could have), plantain leaves (but not the root - but I could have), and could have but didn't eat cat tail shoots and cook up the rhizomes. The most thrilling discovery (and I infrequently use the word thrilling, so please make note of the importance of such a term) was that the wild carrot root, although fibrous and pale and gritty, tasted just like, well - it tasted like an amazing tasting carrot. With a little celery flavour mixed in as well. It was as thick as my index finger, and I figure that I could have dug up a dozen or more of them in the area where the first one was. That would make a meal - boiled or roasted up, there would be more starches and sugars made available. Better than the cafeteria food on some days.

My point being, if I can find these wild foods on a scratchy trail leading past discarded industrial equipment and under chicken gravel paths, then I am quite sure that I would be equally or more successful in the boreal forest.

Cheers,

Mungo