My recent purchase of a brand new hammock from ebay prompted me to explore a brand new area of bushcraft (for myself at least), and find a whole range of new possibilities for myself that had previously lain undiscovered. The main advantage I immediately saw was to be liberated from the need to find suitable ground for camping which is more often than not a completely impossible task, and if not that, a lot more difficult than first thought! (That is if you are usually used to an orthopaedic mattress).
It seems strange that the simple act of erecting a hammock in even the most unremarkable patch of woodland makes the place seem a lot more like home.
I have yet to find a suitable tarp that would enable me to sleep out in comfort, lest the rain moisten my sleeping bag! What then?! I shudder at the prospect.
Or at least that is what I tell myself, being of over active imagination, the thought of darkness in woodland is not one that I sit comfortably with. I still can't overcome the childhood shackles which forbid entrance to the woods at night...
"Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!"
My rational self scoffs at such a notion, but what can I say, I cannot be an entirely rational person. I know that proponents of the subject such as Ray Mears expound about it bringing you closer to nature, but to the uninitiated, it seems quite daunting at first.
On the other hand the thought of long shadows dancing in the firelight, and the golden glow of early autumn makes me realise how good it would be to enjoy this season to the full. With the days gradually growing shorter, and the crisp mornings becoming more frequent, the wood burning stove in my front room is about to declare its importance again and make the darkness of the long nights a blessing and a welcome.
I think camping out would be much more fun in the company of others, with all that this entails, such as the obligatory campfire conversations in the evening, giving much more joviality to the whole adventure. I must admit that with my limited bushcraft contacts this isn't really a likely prospect, and as my usual circle of friends seem to think of me as quite an eccentric anyway, I don't want to give them any more ammunition to throw at me by asking non bushcrafters to sleep in woodland!
As for the hammock, it really is very good for chilling out on a summer's day, the perfect antidote to the exertions of bushcraft and especially the bowdrill method, from which my arms are still aching. Boy, do I wish that I remembered to pack those matches! Even for the uninitiated like myself, a nice patch of Woodland on a summer's day is a great panacea for the rigours of the modern world around us. I should really find more time to go out and do little, but experience much. Watching, and sometimes even just listening to the day go by in the woods can do wonders for allowing nature into your life. In the words of an anonymous artist, in scrawled graffito on the wall of an equally anonymous subway, I once read a short statement which adequately encompassed an entirely sound philosophy. It stood out from the rest of the profanity for its almost profound nature. It read simply; 'live while you're alive'. In this way I see no better way to live, and days spent enjoying the nature are never wasted.
Anyway, that's all for now and if you haven't heard of my recent success with the bowdrill then check out the link marked firecraft in the survival skills section, and you'll find a story/thread by me; speckledjim (backgarden bushcrafter extaordinaire, and survival expert in the making).
It seems strange that the simple act of erecting a hammock in even the most unremarkable patch of woodland makes the place seem a lot more like home.
I have yet to find a suitable tarp that would enable me to sleep out in comfort, lest the rain moisten my sleeping bag! What then?! I shudder at the prospect.
Or at least that is what I tell myself, being of over active imagination, the thought of darkness in woodland is not one that I sit comfortably with. I still can't overcome the childhood shackles which forbid entrance to the woods at night...
"Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!"
My rational self scoffs at such a notion, but what can I say, I cannot be an entirely rational person. I know that proponents of the subject such as Ray Mears expound about it bringing you closer to nature, but to the uninitiated, it seems quite daunting at first.
On the other hand the thought of long shadows dancing in the firelight, and the golden glow of early autumn makes me realise how good it would be to enjoy this season to the full. With the days gradually growing shorter, and the crisp mornings becoming more frequent, the wood burning stove in my front room is about to declare its importance again and make the darkness of the long nights a blessing and a welcome.
I think camping out would be much more fun in the company of others, with all that this entails, such as the obligatory campfire conversations in the evening, giving much more joviality to the whole adventure. I must admit that with my limited bushcraft contacts this isn't really a likely prospect, and as my usual circle of friends seem to think of me as quite an eccentric anyway, I don't want to give them any more ammunition to throw at me by asking non bushcrafters to sleep in woodland!
As for the hammock, it really is very good for chilling out on a summer's day, the perfect antidote to the exertions of bushcraft and especially the bowdrill method, from which my arms are still aching. Boy, do I wish that I remembered to pack those matches! Even for the uninitiated like myself, a nice patch of Woodland on a summer's day is a great panacea for the rigours of the modern world around us. I should really find more time to go out and do little, but experience much. Watching, and sometimes even just listening to the day go by in the woods can do wonders for allowing nature into your life. In the words of an anonymous artist, in scrawled graffito on the wall of an equally anonymous subway, I once read a short statement which adequately encompassed an entirely sound philosophy. It stood out from the rest of the profanity for its almost profound nature. It read simply; 'live while you're alive'. In this way I see no better way to live, and days spent enjoying the nature are never wasted.
Anyway, that's all for now and if you haven't heard of my recent success with the bowdrill then check out the link marked firecraft in the survival skills section, and you'll find a story/thread by me; speckledjim (backgarden bushcrafter extaordinaire, and survival expert in the making).
Nicely put Jim 
. 
