NHVSP Update 6
During this second leg of our
journey, we transitioned from adapting to the rhythm of trail life to focusing more
heavily on our studies: learning survival skills, reading and writing poetry, natural
history, and getting to know the trees of the area through detailed observation
and sketches. At the last year-round homestead we passed on one road, we met a
hunter, who gave us a coyote that we learned to skin. We learned to coal-burn
spoons by taking a “spoon blank” — a rough piece of spruce, at first — and then
using a coal to burn a bowl into it, and then carving out around the bowl.
We learned the story of the King of the North and the Queen
of the South, and the constant back-and-forth they have throughout the winter.
The King of the North and the Queen of the South
All through the winter,
there’s a story that gets acted out many, many times — about once each week.
The King of the North blows and blows, trying to push his way onto the throne,
and clear the sky. He’ll bring clear weather when he finally sits on his throne.
Then, he takes a day of rest, and when he rests, he sits comfortably on his
throne, and the Queen of the South takes notice of his repose. She sends out
her scouts — her horses (“mares’ tails”) and her fishes (“mackerel
scales”). And then she comes behind them, and brings cloudy weather, and pushes
the King of the North off his throne.
We felt a bit of the Queen of the South’s influence one night early on
in the leg, when the wind was so strong we had to get up during the night and
stake down the tent!
Later, we went out for personal solo time: we built fires, wrote
in our journals, and cooked meat. We met with a logger, Lawrence A. “Tweeter”
Felion, a venerable man with over sixty years of experience logging. We interviewed
him about his experiences logging in the Vermont woods, and about the changes
he’s witnessed in the forests and how logging takes place.
We did shelter group solos, when we went out in groups of three
and built and spent the night in lean-to shelters. To get to the spot where we
did our shelter solos, we first had to learn to test the soundness of ice.
How to test the soundness of ice using a pole
I learned the importance of testing the safety of ice the hard way — I
got my boots wet! Luckily, it was a warm day, so they dried pretty quickly. But
if it were cold out, it could have been a bad situation! I would have had to
build a fire and remove and dry my boots.
Then, we built the shelters of logs and boughs, and built
fires in them and cooked our meals.
How to build a simple lean-to shelter
First, choose a location for
your shelter. A shelter should be built on high, level ground, so water doesn’t
drain toward it. Look for places that are sheltered from the wind, where there
are plenty of natural resources for you to use — poles for building the shelter
and for firewood, boughs for making the roof water-resistant and for bedding,
and water for drinking and cooking. Also, look for locations that have natural
features, such as trees and rootballs, that you can use as part of your
shelter. It’s important to take the time to find a good spot for your shelter. Once you have selected a location, look
for any dangerous widowmakers, and fell them. Saving your life from hypothermia
would be kind of ironic if you’re going to be killed by a falling tree in the
night.
Second, frame your shelter!
This is the fun part. Position your shelter so that the wind blows at the back
corner (if it is blowing directly into your shelter you’ll be cold, and if it’s
blowing side-on, you’ll get smoked out). For a basic one-person lean-to
shelter, use two forked sticks, and lean them up against two trees, high enough
that the bottoms of the forks are about six inches above your head when you sit
between them. Put a ridgepole in the forks, spanning the two trees. Cut
rafters, and lean them up against this pole, at about a forty-five degree
angle, and about three inches apart from each other. You will sleep under this
roof. Place a green pole under the ridgepole on the ground, to mark the edge of
your bed so you don’t roll into the fire. Using a green pole will make it less
likely to burn. Make sure you’ll be far enough under the roof so snow or rain
won’t drift in on you too much. Your fire should be at least a foot away from
the bedpole and the “reflecting
wall”. The reflecting wall is a wall of logs, maybe four feet high, that you build
on the far side of your fire. Use four stakes pounded into the ground to
support the wall, and place logs in between them.
Third, make your roof and
bed using conifer boughs. The boughs should all be upside down, layered like
feathers. Angle the roof boughs against the rafters, so the ends don’t poke
down through the gaps; overhang the boughs at the top so water doesn’t run down
the rafters. Your bough bed should be six to eight inches thick when you’re
laying on it to insulate you from the ground (if you’re using a pad, you can
skimp on this somewhat).
Finally, build your pole
fire. This technique is sometimes called an “Indian chainsaw”, because the
logs don’t need to be bucked up before burning. To build this fire, burn a
number of limbed poles, starting at one end. Throughout the night, every couple
of hours, you’ll need to pull the poles further onto the fire to keep it
burning. Place the poles so the tips tilt down
into the fire (make sure the ends of the poles that stick out of the shelter
are higher than the ends in the fire). Make a roller from logs if you need to.
Congratulations! You have
now finished a simple shelter that should let you survive the night.
P. S.: To cook in your
shelter: Place a pole across the top of your shelter from the reflecting wall
to the ridgepole (wedge it in between the rafters to keep it from moving).
Then, make the “spunhungan”, or pot hanger, by finding a forked stick, and cut
it so one end is longer than the other. Cut a notch in the long end of the fork
big enough to fit the bale of your pot. Then, hook the crotch of the stick over
the cookpole, and hook the bale of your pot into the notch. It should now
support the pot over the fire.
Don’t put your ridgepole too close to the fire! Zack learned this the
hard way, when his bough roof dried out through the night and caught fire at
four o’clock in the morning. This is especially a concern for multiple-person
shelters with a fire between two ridgepoles, where the ridgepoles might be
quite close together.
After we got back on the trail, we climbed Mount Abraham. It
was pretty wild on the peak, with the wind blowing the snow so hard that we
could barely see, and the sign at the peak unreadable, covered with several
inches of rime ice. We skied down the Sugarbush ski resort — that was a lot of
fun! At camp that night, we learned to make snow-cream — ice cream made
using snow. Very delicious!
How to make snow cream
Take a few big bowlfuls of
powder snow, and put them in a large pot. While gently stirring, slowly pour in
two pints heavy cream, half a pint of maple syrup or honey, and vanilla to
taste. If necessary, add more snow to get a soft and fluffy consistency. This
makes about twelve heaping bowlfuls.
On the winter trail, you can use powdered milk as a substitute for the
cream, and use sugar for the sweetener. That way it won’t be too heavy to carry,
and you can carry a lot of it — although probably not as much as we want!
Writings
of thanks
Ode to Maxiglide:
On
days with sticky snow
I
feel like there’s nowhere to go
Skis
are quite slow
And
take much energy to go
When
hope is lost
When
time stands still
No
one else can we turn to
But
Maxiglide
Makes
a very nice ride
To my left leather glove, on its having
gotten badly burned when I attempted to dry it when I was very tired during my
shelter solo:
Glove
— tool — strong and malleable and warm —
You
gave for me
You
suffered loss, once a whole glove
unmarred
of
a pair
now
“Lesser”
— whatever that means.
You
kept my hand warm to-day
on
the mountain.
Is
that not
Greatness?
A task accomplished
by
a tool
I
do not know how to make,
you
hold
me warm
and
protect me.
Glove,
for what did you suffer this loss?
For
mindlessness, for impatience
For
my not taking sufficient care —
I
am sorry.
Not
for to break you, to
then
be reforged
as
a book rebound, but
simply
through
Negligence.
I
will patch you, when I reach the right time
with
Duct
tape, and
Care
and
will you still be “lesser”, Greatness?
Ode to skis:
Praise
be to my skis!
My
glorious chariot of the mountainside!
You
triple the speed, quadruple the fun!
Ode to the Stove:
Praise
be to the stove
Without
you we survive but with you we live.
You
are an unruly burden but the energy we sacrifice is returned tenfold every
evening.
Containing
our essential fire, you give us its heat while protecting us from sparks and
smoke
A
surface to cook on is merely a bonus.
Praise
be to the stove.
Love Poem to Fire:
We
first met when I was young,
and
you were introduced as a strong spirit
with
the power to kill.
I
was taken by you instantly
because
you hold a strength within you
far
more powerful than the strengths I hold.
Even
at your weakest moments
you
are able to find
the
place inside me that needs you most
the
place that needs your warmth
and
your red hot smile.
That’s
why I love you,
because
no matter what the conditions,
you
share your deepest qualities
with
me,
and
I feel your warmth again.
Memories
from the leg
The
second leg has flown by even faster than the first. I have learned so much from
Chris. It was a great experience to build a shelter with a fire and sleep in it
with Kerensa and Lotte. We had lots of liveovers to learn about trees. Now
Chris has gone and Emily has joined us, I am looking forward to this next leg
and can’t wait for spring to come.
There
is a great big rootball, and more poles than anyone could ever ask for. After
four or five hours of work, we three had a pot of pasta and veggies boiling,
and room to curl up for sleep. Now
the snow is lightly falling, and the patchy roof is letting some flakes in. But
I have no qualms with Mother Nature on a night like this. The long logs are
burning blue and bright. There is an incredible feeling of contentment in this
camp.
The
shelter was exciting, though. It took about seven hours to make. It wasn’t
really fantastic looking at first, but it got the job done today, so I guess
I’m ok. But I felt like I was in a coffin made out of spruce boughs all night.
So that should say something. It was like a triangle open at the apex, very
slightly, and without a roof. Well, it had kind of a roof, in some parts. In
the part that didn’t need it, so I got snowed on all night. A good night,
nonetheless.
“coyote”
when it was naked and no longer looked
like itself, this totally wild
thing looked like nothing real I’d ever
seen It looked most closely
related to zombie animals
in Zelda video
games
Thanks
to Chris, our teacher on this leg! Also, thanks to Leah, who accompanied us for
the first five days — it was a pleasure to have you!
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