Bushcraft clangers - the great frozen fudge faux pas...

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Xunil

Settler
Jan 21, 2006
671
3
56
North East UK
www.bladesmith.co.uk
I've seen (and done) a lot of daft things over the years. No, really :)

I guess most of us who have ever used one of the metal army issue mugs have burnt their mouth on it the first time they have a hot brew.

I recently managed to do my own equivalent of a tree surgeon trimming the branch he is standing on....

Not so very long ago I was up in the Cheviots in serious weather for a night, playing around with some new kit. This was a couple of weeks ago when temperatures dropped like a stone, heavy snow had already fallen and more was coming down, and as I settled for the night I smugly reached for the treat I'd been promising myself all day - a small block of home made fudge.

I wasn't prepared for nearly breaking my teeth on it however, or the overwhelming disappointment that came when the penny dropped that I'd have to wait at least a few more minutes to warm the fudge enough to render it edible. At -11C fudge becomes seriously dangerous to your health...

:)

A mate of mine once set the soles of his boots on fire when he sat dozing with his feet stretched out towards the flames, and I once saw a guy make a hot coal bed that went up in a shower of sparks late one night - he hadn't put enough earth covering over the top and the coals had burned through his blankets. He was unimpressed, as I recall.

I've seen a guy's knots give way on him when he swung himself into his hammock for the first time, and another guy who blasted a hole through his tarp when he tried bringing his campfire under it on a cast iron skillet one rainy day :)

I flipped a brand new and very expensive set of polarised sunglasses straight into a trout lake on my first cast when fly fishing a few years ago, when the fly caught the leg of the glasses and dragged them into the water ;)

I've spent ages sharpening a knife only to have it roll from where I put it and land on rocks, dinging out the edge and making me start all over again.

So, what other daft stunts have you lot done ?

How about a run-up-to-Christmas list of bushcraft clangers, Beadle-style ?
 
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I managed to lock my keys in the car after driving 285 miles up to Scotland for a canoe trip. I'd only taken the canoe off the roof bars, got my waterproofs on and then dropped the boot lid when my keys were on the parcel shelf. Got the AA out first who couldn't get in and then cleared off, just as I was about to put a brick through the window and then drive back home I remembered I still had VW roadside assist cover. One hour later the lock was jigged and I was paddling away to meet the other guys.
 
I once put a newly sharpened hatchet through a patch of soft rotten wood on an otherwise hard seasoned stick I was cutting for fire wood...and through the side of the block of oak I was cutting it on.... and through the side of my brand new Hawkins Cairngorm boots (that dates it!)....and through my sock....but it only bruised my foot!
The Vibram sole of the boots were what stopped the blade as it bit through the welt...
I like to think that my technique has improved since then :)
 
Just after starting out on a fast and very lightweight hike around Kielder lake with some friends many years ago I jumped a ditch and the seam of my brand new army issue pants parted all the way up the inner thigh of my right leg. Each step thereafter saw the seam part a little more down the other leg, and by the time we stopped for lunch I might as well have been yomping in my shreddies :)

Some hand stitching with the contents of my hollow handled knife (ah, remember the eighties ? ;) ) saw said trousers back in working (sort of) order, but the remainder of that particular outing was a little drafty and chafed a bit, as I recall :)

Happy days...
 
Bit long but........

My favorite incident was many years ago during my time spent as a scout. I had a part time job after school at a local butchers, cleaning and cutting stuff up in the back room etc.

I was due to go to camp after work on a Friday evening. I was very excited to be going to camp with my good friends (who still are good friends). I had recently saved up my wages and purchased my first scout sheath knife.
I got home from school on the Friday afternoon and was getting ready to go to work, all my camp gear was packed in my rucksack I had even managed to sneak a bottle of woodpecker cider in my rolled up sleeping bag. Whilst checking my kit in my bedroom I was admiring my new knife and thought that a bit of 'ninja' knife juggling was in order. I was doing really well and feeling very pleased with myself when my mum reminded me that I should get myself off to work. Concentration broke, I dropped the knife and with super quick ninja reflexes caught the falling knife point first in my right shin. I didn't mention the incident to my mum and popped a plaster on the neat little hole on my shin, popped on my 10 hole Doc Martins and went to work. After being at work for around an hour I noticed that my right foot was feeling quite warm and wet. I had a quick peek and suddenly felt unwell, my boss had a look and under my instruction popped a dressing on it, I tipped the blood from my boot gave it a wipe out and lined it with paper towels. I finished my shift and squelched home, ran upstairs and got my pack and waited for my lift to pick me up for camp. My mum would have canceled my trip if she had known ( and rightly so) so I didn't mention it. I got to camp and decided to show my leader my little hole in my leg, I spent the whole night with my leg up in the air with people taking it in turns to apply pressure to the wound to stop the bleeding, which eventually did stop but I got an infection in the wound a week later which triggered a visit to the doctor, a course of anti biotics and regular salt baths. Everything healed up and I have a nice scar on my shin and a valuable lesson learned.
 
In the early 90s i was staying overnight in a mountain bothy in glen dessary on my way to knoydart.

I decided to go look for some fire wood without my boots on, so down by the river i spotted some on the other side .

Half way back over with a good load of wood in my pack
i slipped of a rock and hit my ankle sending me face down in the river.
I limped back and got the fire going to dry off and put my foot up.

The next morning i just got my boot on and set of towards fort william .
from the bothy to the main road is 23 miles along loch arkaig.
I managed to get a lift from there to the hospital in fort william .

So after an overnight stay and a nice new plaster and a pair of crutches i was off down to the station for a train home .:crutch: I had broken a bone in my ankle and still manged to walk for a day .

So what did i learn from this , walking with crutches and a 35lb pack is dam hard .

Craig............
 
Some great stories guys, keep it up.
Ive never personally done anything particularly, except for my sak folding around my finger when I was 8 trying to cut open a cardboard box.
Oh and when on a cadet drill competition, my army belt (you know the ones you assemble from 4 parts) dropped to pieces on a turn and I spent the rest of the competition holding it neatly behind my back in my left hand :D
 
I made a very large Bowie knife for someone a few years ago - this is what happens when you sharpen it to a serious edge and they hand it to you and let go of it before you have a grip on it:

My left leg, just above the knee:

knee_wound.jpg


And after some handy needlework by casualty staff:

knee_wound_stitched.jpg


The knife dropped from about 6 inches above my leg and, under its own weight, went point-first straight to the bone. This happened on the first stop of a three day trip and the walk (read limp) back to the car and subsequent journey to hospital was very, very painful. I went through every expletive I knew several times over and started inventing them once I'd run out of the obvious choices.

I was particular unimpressed at ruining my new GoreTex trousers and the Craghoppers I was wearing underneath them. An expensive Scarpa boot full of blood didn't help my mood any, by the time I got back to the car.

Notes to self:

1. Don't make any more large Bowie knives. EVER !!!
2. If point 1 is ignored, don't have them handed to you directly above any of your own limbs or other bodily parts. Instead, have the knife put down on a flat surface, don't make eye contact with it and approach slowly, from behind
3. If points 1 and 2 are ignored, try to arrange beforehand to be wearing a suit of plate armour or a Kevlar jumpsuit (it's the latest thing you know :) )

What this did illustrate to me was how incredibly dangerous any significant injury can be to those in the great outdoors. It's tough to force yourself to stay calm and rational in the face of something like that happening, and a whole raft of "what if's" play tricks on you when faced with limited first aid supplies and a long hike out to seek proper medical attention. In particular it renewed by admiration for the pioneers and trappers of North America and Canada who, by definition, ran these very real risks almost daily.

Needless to say I still have the scar - happy days...
 
a recent yomp through a coastal woodland saw me leaving the safe haven of the tree line to a hop, skip and jump down the normally soft-underfoot chalk and lime cliff down to the beach. Having walked this same path countless times, i thought i was sure of the conditions underfoot...indeed my dogs sprinted ahead and bounded down leaving no footprints whatsoever in the chalk/lime rock.

As i stepped from a rocky outcrop onto the softer ground i literally sank up to my thighs! The dogs seeing me at their eye level started jumping around and getting excited, thinking i was mucking around. The bottom of my pack literally bottom'd out on what would have been the ground. Being up to my thighs in thick, claggy chalk i was literally held fast. I left my pack on thinking it would somehow spread my weight as it had already bottom'd out onto the ground. I had to grab hold of gorse/bracken and anything else i could get my hands on to prize myself out of the mud. It literally took me almost 10 mins to claw my way out of trouble, and at the end of i was totally exhausted! And i keep myself very fit and healthy. Funny now i can look back on it...but I must admit panick did start to creep in.

Lesson learned....you can never be 100% sure of the conditions underfoot, even if you travel that path often. Oh, and dont rely on your dogs to run ahead and give you an indication of how bad it is. Lesson learned!!
 
As i stepped from a rocky outcrop onto the softer ground i literally sank up to my thighs! The dogs seeing me at their eye level started jumping around and getting excited, thinking i was mucking around. The bottom of my pack literally bottom'd out on what would have been the ground. Being up to my thighs in thick, claggy chalk i was literally held fast. I left my pack on thinking it would somehow spread my weight as it had already bottom'd out onto the ground. I had to grab hold of gorse/bracken and anything else i could get my hands on to prize myself out of the mud. It literally took me almost 10 mins to claw my way out of trouble, and at the end of i was totally exhausted! And i keep myself very fit and healthy. Funny now i can look back on it...but I must admit panick did start to creep in.

I lost a shoe once in a similar incident. Wasn't very fun walking home.
 
not very pleasant at all man...once i had free'd meself from my claggy prison i just walked straight into the sea to rinse it off...luckily it wasnt midwinter otherwise it could have been VERY uncomfortable indeed! ha ha
 
Last year while camping wild in the New Forest I was halfway through a bottle of red wine while cooking sausages and various other cuts of meat in a frying pan over the fire. While chatting to my mates I failed to take account of the hot fats from the meat building up in the pan.

Feeling the effects of the wine and the crouching to cook I perched myself on some firewood to rest my legs. The firewood shifted under my weight and the boiling fat was flung over my right shin. I jumped up in shock and my mates sat laughing at me, stuffing their fat faces before we all realised it was more than a light scolding. The skin went white and then began to hurt very, very much.

I drove to A+E in Winchester with a wet tea towel wrapped around my leg. I was given a course of really strong painkillers and a dressing and was told the pain comes from the damaged nerve endings coming into contact with the air. The burn went gammy and oozed clear pus for two weeks and was painful to walk on. The painkillers were really good though; I can see how people get addicted. The dreams were so deep and lucid. I now have discoloured skin on my shin.

Lesson learned: never cook over an open fire with shorts and concentrate on what you're doing. And don't be drunk in charge of dangerous equipment.
 
My best one so far, is cooking on the camp fire wearing crocs. It wasnt until my youngest started to laugh that I noticed my crocs were melting round my foot. I just thought the fire was damn warm.

Now I always remember to wear shoes/boots when cooking, but knowing my luck I will trip over the laces oneday.
 
i recently purchased a swc bushcraft knife from woodlore and being a leftie i made a nice sheath for it.
after oiling and wrapping the knife in cling film i wet formed the sheath around the knife. all went well with the forming so i took the knife out and unwrapped it, wiped it clean and reoiled it leaving the sheath and the knife at the back of a high shelf well out of the younger kids sight and way.
anyways my 11 year old who is very safe and responsible when it comes to blades found it and decided to be helpful and resheath the knife and put it back on the shelf.
cue me coming in a few hours later to check on the sheath to find the knife now had a lovely patina of rust on the blade! agggghhhhhhh!!!!
it took me quite a few hours of scrubbing with a scotchbrite pad and liberal amounts of autosol to remove the lovely little star patterns the rust made on the finish of the blade.
good thing is the knife is a user or i would still be crying into my cornflakes over that one.
 
Set fire to a sock a couple of weekends ago, wafting it through the fire to dry :D
Not as bad as mate who melted the tongue of one of his Meindls' same night.

That reminds me of one scout camp a few years ago. It was a lightweight hike and camp over 2 days for the older, more experienced scouts. At the site was a lake and being the middle of summer, some of them decided to go for a dip. Stupidly, one of them thought it better for his feet if he went in his boots (his dad's brand new £150 boots). Realising his mistake, he left on sticks by the fire to dry and wishing them no more harm, told everyone not to touch them under any circumstances. 1hr later and his boots were nearly a pile of leather and moulten rubber, after all no one was allowed to touch them...
 
Testing my hobo in the back garden in the snow. some left over pine cones were burning well and i was about to pop the billy on when it went out?
Tip: clear all snow from underneath and around your hobo stove before lighting lest the melted snow puts out your fire...
in my haste to get a fire going and have a cuppa i didn't realise how deep the packed snow was at the back and it had litterally sank into it.
 
Mental note... always pre-strech my hammock ropes!

In the handfull of times I've used a hammock, Twice woke up on the floor which kinda defeats the object! :p
 

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