BushcraftUK: Community Forum

I’d like to share a link to a forum I lurk on every once in a while. It’s a great place online to find discussion and knowledge-sharing regarding all things bushcrafty. You’ll also find a decent amount of Ray Mears fans in attendance.

I like the distinction that is drawn between survival and bushcraft; the latter is a much more holistic, sustainable approach to not only surviving, but living with your environment.

(What I carry is nowhere near as nice as this, but the concept is essentially the same. These are from J.a.G Woodworking)

I’d like to talk about one decision I’ve made when it comes to kitchen on a canoe trip. There’s a part of me that wants to go as ultra-light as possible, knife and a flint striker and some rope, and improvise from there, but there’s another, more obsessive side that wants to bring every gadget possible. Somewhere in the middle is the ideal camping kit. That ideal pack obviously is different for each individual, and indeed, changes for me on a constant basis.

One peice of kit that has started coming with me on any canoe trip longer than three days is my version of a wanigan. Bill Casselman’s “Canadian Word of the Day” site describes it better than I could.

A wanigan is essentially a box for food, kitchen kit, and possibly tools that would otherwise be difficult to pack or too fragile to stuff into a roughly-treated pack.

It’s a traditional bit of kit, which, in the spirit of the Duluth-style canoe pack, is as simple as it is refined. Like the Duluth pack, the wanigan is a large, single-area storage solution. It requires that you keep your individual food and tools well-organized.

With a proper utensil roll or bag, you are left with a solid pantry that will protect your fragile foods – eggs, bread, etc.

The fact that it can serve as a table, cutting surface, and utensile-rest appeals to the multiple-use side of me. Sometimes, you make it to a campsite that ends up being wet, and it’s very nice to unpack and organize your meals on a clean, flat, comfortable surface.

The wanigan I have started using is just an old tupperware tub that I had hanging around, and by chance, it fits perfectly into a 68L roll-top drybag from Sea-to-Summit. I can’t say enough about this combo. I’ll eventually try a watertight one, but I like the fact that during use, the wanigan can allow moisture to escape, keeping the inside humidity low.

The bag also is large enough for extras, such as the pot and toiletries, all of which get hauled into the trees at the end of the day.

That’s right, because I’m just using a plastic box, even the wanigan goes up there, along with any pots that were used for more than boiling water. Some may call it overkill, but I’ve yet to confront anything larger than a chipmunk at my sites in the backcountry, and I’d like to keep it that way. This likely wouldn’t be possible to do with a traditional wooden wanigan, but I’d like to see if I can find a good compromise for weight and utility.

If anybody has any experiences of their own with wanigans, I’d love to hear from you, and please feel free to share here on the comments.

White People Like Camping | Toronto Mike’s Blog.

Great blog post about Suzanne Dimma’s cottage build. I’m very very jealous.

So, I’m long overdue on the trip reports. I started a new job last year, and I’m coming up on my first anniversary in a week. The time has flown by, and the crunch of new responsibilities has died down a bit. I’ve gone on a few trips, and I’m ready to start keeping up with the photos and reviews and trip reports. This is a bit of a year of firsts.

The first first on this trip was going to an entrance point I’d never been to: Entrance 16, on the East side of Algonquin.

View Algonquin Park Access Points in a larger map

The drive there is quite nice. Once you get off the 401 east, you’re immediately on some smaller highways, and it’s not far to some very nice scenery for the rest of the drive.

We stopped in for a good mom-and-pop breakfast, something I can’t recommend enough. It’s a great way to start what will be a long day, especially if you’re driving a desk for half a year before your first trip of the season.

My camping partner for this trip was Ian Hoar, and this was our second trip out. He had come with me last year in late September, and we were going to stay for four days on Little Hay Lake.

Ian at a beaver dam

The access point is Hay Lake (the bigger, I suppose), and when we finally drove up to the shore, we discovered there was no station where we could pick up our permits. We backtracked, and made our way to a lodge, where we found there is no place at the access point at all. To pick up permits, you have to go to the East Gate entrance point. Back out to the highway we went, up to Highway 60, to the crazy mall that is the East gate.

Once we got that sorted, we made our way back to the put-in point, which is a public boat launch. This entrance point is actually outside of the borders of the park, so you have to canoe across the large (and it always seems windy) Hay Lake, avoiding the powerboats and numerous cottages, and into a little river system to take us to our one portage. It was a buggy one, and it felt like June, not August. There was a rest bar halfway through the one-kilometre portage, and I was glad to use it for a moment.

resting on the portage trail

At the end of the long, humid portage, I was greeted by a completely unexpected sight — a well-traveled logging road. In fact, as I crossed it to get to the river, I nearly got hit by an empty flatbed zipping along a breakneck speeds. It was a bit of a noisy and unexpected immersion-killer.

Once at our site, however, things calmed down.

The tranquility of the park started to soak in, and the tasks at hand took on their simple importance.

Ian had made a new purchase, and brought along a Hennessy Hammock, the same as the one he borrowed last year. Unfortunately, he seemed to get a dud, as the mosquito netting was ripped, and it looked like a hook had been melted off.

I’m very happy with my hammock, but was disappointed to see this condition on a new product. He told me later that he couldn’t find the receipt, so still hasn’t returned it. Unfortunately, he bought it at Europe Bound, which, although $5 cheaper than MEC, doesn’t seem to be as accepting or lenient with their returns.

I’ll keep you updated when I hear more.

My hammock is still performing admirably and like new after years of use, so I’m inclined to think this is a fluke, and would still recommend them. It’s great to keep your gear dry and close at hand under you, and provides one of the best nights sleep you can get, provided it’s not colder weather.

My Hennessy hammock, set up. Underneath, my gear is stowed in my military poncho. That poncho is also just the right size to be used as the fly.

It was colder than expected, and my new purchase was a one-pound bag, a very small, light summer bag that was a joy to portage. I like my heavier bag, but it’s bulky and heavy and overkill for the summer.

The mist coming off of the lake dropped a chill on us that first morning after, and I had forgotten to bring my espresso. I don’t normally drink espresso, but it’s a traditional pick-me-up on back-country trips. I could have used the warm treat.

We had very little in the way of wildlife, but there was still the occasional curious visitor.

All in all, an uneventful trip, one that’s nice to experience, perhaps not as interesting to describe. I’m perfectly fine with that, however. For more pictures, you can see my Flickr set of Little Hay Lake, or check out Ian’s. We both took the pictures, depending one which camera was closest at hand.

P8030118, originally uploaded by A Word in the Woods.

I’m going to try and streamline some things a bit to get my photos organized. I’ll put them all on Flickr, and link directly there. I’m actually playing around with creating blog posts in flickr, and having it sent automagically to awordinthewoods.com

Hope it works!

I never quite have enough of the clear liquid when I’m on a backcountry trip, but I’m usually a bit more active, of course. It’s made me a bit more conscious of my hydration in my day-to-day life, however, and I know what it means when my hands have that mottled look under their skin, and I get a headache for no reason. Keeping hydrated is important, but do we need to be fanatical about it?

Here’s an interesting article on the facts about water intake, and how much of it can be taken care of in your food alone.

I try to drink often in my travels, and to replenish a good day of canoeing and portaging, I’ve taken to making my first night involve a good hearty pot of well-simmered soup. I used to mix a boatload of gatoraide with water that didn’t taste so good, but I’ve found my filter does a decent job, as long as I choose my water sources well. I could do without the sugar crash, and if I make sure I have my tea and hot chocolate in the afternoon and evenings, soup and noodles and oatmeal and veggies, I’m doing just fine when in camp.

What habits do you have that help you keep dehydration at bay?

So begins the lengthy re-design process.

It’s May, and in Canada, that means Victoria day (pronounced \’tü fər\) is on everybody’s mind. At the very least, it’s on mine, and although it’s falling early this year, it looks like (for a change) we’ll have sun for most of it. I enjoy camping all year ’round, but two-four is a milestone. It starts off the summer camping and cottage season. It’s the time to get scrounging into the couch for spare change to fill up the Oldsmobile for a road trip, to play some guitar outside without freezing off your fingers, or just enjoy lying under the sun in the back of your buddy’s Jeep with the top down.

So I’m going to head home from the office in just a bit, hop in the Rover (new wheels, new brakes, new suspension to come), and sleep by the lake tonight. Here’s hoping you’ll do the same.

I’ve failed to mention a great set of finds that I managed this past winter/fall. An old Coleman Lantern, and a Coleman two-burner stove. Heavy and heavy-duty, they don’t mess around with the good old stuff. The lantern still has its original box and runs on white gas – same as my lightweight camping stove. It’s in great condition, but I’m going to probably burn out some rust and dust in the innards, as it’s from 1976!

I’m looking forward to keeping them both in the car as part of my safety kit, but first things first, let’s get that car!