Something a little different...

I wrote this with the intention of submitting it to one of the primitive magazines but never got around to doing that. Rather than let this stagnate on my computer's hard drive, I'll post it here. I hope you enjoy it.
(edit) I've gotten some great feedback on this story. I feel it's only fair to let you folks know that this is a work of fiction. I'm not nearly as good an outdoorsman as the man in the story, or his mysterious visitor.


Vision Trip

I sat in my truck having a last soda before putting my gear together. Even though I had prepared for this by taking “survival” classes and learning about how to survive in the wilderness, this was still a big jump and I was a little apprehensive.

My plan was to hike into the mountains for three days and two nights, and to live solely on what I had with me or could find in the land: food, tools, and shelter. Doesn’t sound that hard, does it? Your average granola eating backpacker does it every weekend. But I was throwing a big wrench into the works by having with me only what I would have had as a primitive resident of this land: buckskin clothes, leather pouches, dried meat and berries, and a bow and arrows I had made myself. I did make a couple anachronistic additions; I had a wool blanket and some aspirin. And since I’m a less than competent knapper, I also had a forged steel knife, primitive style, of course. I still have my standards.

I finally decided that this wasn’t going to happen if I didn’t get my rear in gear. There wasn’t anyone else around at the trail head so I changed into my buckskins at the tailgate of the truck. I double checked all my gear, rolled up my blanket, hung it over one shoulder, and hung my quiver over the other. For the time being I would leave my bow in its case on the quiver. I needed to make some miles to get to my campsite and having a strung bow would be too much of a temptation so slow down and creep.

It took a little while to wear the cobwebs off my city muscles and get into the rhythm of trail walking. I was glad that I had taken the precaution of gluing thin rubber soles to my moccasins. I know rubber soles aren’t primitive but a lifetime of wearing shoes had left my feet somewhat tender to the trail. Besides, the rubber helped with traction on slick rocks and I didn’t relish ending my trip with a sprained ankle, or worse.
All my other trips had been with light hiking boots and I was surprised at how much quieter the moccasins were. I was seeing birds and squirrels that normally would have had plenty of warning that I was coming up the trail. One turn of the trail brought me upon a bobcat with a chipmunk under its paw. I don’t know who was more surprised, me for walking up on one of the forest’s best hunters, the bobcat for having been surprised, or the chipmunk for his sudden reprieve as the bobcat sprang into the bushes.
When I stopped to rest I thought about how this trip was going so far. I felt more in tune with my surroundings than I had on any other foray into the woods. I don’t know if it was the spiritual feel of my (mostly) primitive kit or the way in which I blended into my surroundings better, but the forest seemed to accept me more readily than in the past.
It took a couple hours of walking and a hot spot trying to turn into a blister on one toe, but I finally got to my projected campsite. While this spot wasn’t completely unknown, it was a little off the beaten path. Besides valuing my seclusion, I didn’t want to have to explain how I was dressed or what I was doing to a Girl Scout troop or a Sierra Club hiker. For some reason I just didn’t think they’d understand. My campsite was up against a big boulder that was set just slightly back into the tree line. The site overlooked a meadow with a small lake about two hundred yards away. A clear stream came out of the trees a few yards to one side of the boulder and chuckled across the meadow to empty into the lake. One side of the boulder offered a natural campsite that must have been catching traveler’s eyes for a few hundred years. Soot stains on a small overhang in the ancient stone bore evidence of many fires preceding mine. When I was here a couple years ago I found an arrowhead deep inside a lightning split tree while I was gathering firewood. There was no telling how long ago the arrow had missed its intended target and struck the tree but it was one of those big grandfather trees that were here when Lewis and Clark were in diapers. Workmanship on the head was incredible, far surpassing my own pitiful creations. My own knapping has been in a “learning” stage for quite some time. The arrows I’d brought on this trip were tipped with my best efforts. I reasoned that if they weren’t beautiful or weight matched, at least they were sharp and they may give a lethal blow to a rabbit or squirrel.

I took off my various pouches and bags as well as the blanket and quiver and set everything on the grass. A few minutes wandering through the woods at the back of the campsite gave me enough firewood to last the weekend. I wouldn’t be needing a big blaze, just enough to give warmth and to cook with. Building my fire against the boulder would reflect much of its warmth back to me. I also took the time to gather a couple armfuls of long grass and dry pine needles for my bed. After gathering firewood and bed materials I switched to gathering food. I took my bow out of its case and strung it. Hanging the quiver at my side had me ready to go shopping for dinner. Deer season wasn’t open but I had been seeing plenty of squirrels and even a couple rabbits and marmots during the walk in. Past trips told me that the edge of the forest line would be good for rabbits but squirrels would be just a little deeper into the trees. If I turned to marmots I’d find them near boulders and stumps out in the meadow.

Two hours of hunting netted me one broken arrow, a lost arrow, and the realization that the jerky and dried fruit I’d brought would be dinner, and probably breakfast the next day. I consoled myself with that ancient saying known to all hunters regardless of time and culture: “That’s why they call it hunting and not catching.”

I had elected to bring a flint and steel rather than my wood fire starting tools. While I could make fire with the wood tools I was more confident in flint and steel. This was my first primitive trip and I didn’t want to push my bubble too far until I was more comfortable in my skills. I got a small fire going and set some rocks in it to heat while I went to the stream to get water in my gourd bowl. Using my knife I shaved a generous serving of jerky into the water and decided to add some dried fruit as well. When the stones had been in the fire long enough I used some sticks to lift them one at a time into my bowl. I’d done this before at home and it always surprised me how well it worked to boil water. When a stone cooled I placed it back into the fire and put another hot one in the bowl. It wasn’t too long before I had a fairly serviceable stew steaming in my bowl and I leaned back against the rock to enjoy it.

By the time I finished dinner the sun was just about down. I rinsed my bowl in the stream and refilled it with water in case I got thirsty in the night. I have a hard enough time getting to the kitchen at home for a midnight glass of water without killing myself, a trip to the stream for a drink didn’t seem advisable.

With the setting sun the temperature began to drop and I wrapped the blanket around my shoulders as I sat next to my little fire. I looked out over the darkening meadow and thought about the trip so far. I had felt very in tune with my surroundings during the walk in. While my hunting results didn’t show it, I’d seen more game than on any other trip to the area. Walking up on the bobcat and its disturbed lunch had been completely unexpected and would be in my memory for many years to come. Did this “mind meld” with the forest happen because I was quieter, was it because I was wearing earth toned leather clothes, or was it simply because I was acting more as one with my surroundings? I couldn’t tell, but I was willing to accept it as it was. I get a little philosophical when I get tired so this line of reasoning was my clue to fluff up my debris bed, roll up in the blanket and lay down. I made sure the firewood was within easy reach so I could replenish my fire through the night and closed my eyes.

I awoke the next morning to a gray dawn. The sun hadn’t yet come up over the eastern mountains so I put an arm out into the chill air and prodded the fire with a stick. A few coals glowed red in the bed of ashes so I dropped a handful of pine needles from my bed on them and then lay some sticks over those. The pine needles caught pretty quickly so I put on a couple bigger sticks and then pulled the blanket over my head and went back to sleep.
I came awake again when the sun hit me. Temperatures can change quickly in the mountains and I was soon too warm to stay wrapped up. I sat up on my pile of grass and pine needles and looked around. As I blinked the sleep from my eyes I became aware of a slight sore throat and I reasoned that the dry mountain air may have irritated it as I breathed deeply the day before during my walk in. I picked a couple drowned bugs out of my water bowl and drank a deep draught of cold water. I immediately became aware that my throat was sorer than I first thought. Rummaging through my bags I took two aspirin and figured that would be that.
Within a couple hours I realized that was not going to be that. I was sick. Even sitting in the cool shade I could tell that I was getting a pretty good fever. You know how when you have a fever you’re cold so you wrap up in blankets but you’re also sweating and too hot to be wrapped up? I had it with a vengeance. No doubt aspirin would help bring down a fever but I really hadn’t expected to get sick on this trip and had only brought a few. They were quickly consumed to no effect. I knew I’d be in this one until it was over so I filled up with water and then made sure my bowl and cup were both full. I gathered a little more firewood, made sure all my food was within reach, and settled down to get sick, cursing that salesman in my office who’d come to work while he was sick. I was sure this was his fault as he’d wandered around all day coughing and sneezing on everyone in sight.

It must have been some time in mid afternoon that I felt something wonderfully cool on my face and I kind of swam to the surface of consciousness. I was mildly surprised to see the silhouette of a person bending over me but in my fevered state of mind it seemed ok. Whoever it was had a wet rag and was gently washing my face with it. I felt a little cool water trickle into my mouth and I swallowed, wincing as it went past my sore throat. I closed my eyes and went back to sleep.
I don’t think too much time had passed before I woke again. I looked around for my new companion and saw him sitting on the other side of the fire watching me. I remember thinking, “I’ll be damned, there’s two of us nuts loose in the world.” He was dressed as I was, in leather buckskins. But he had taken things a little further and had a shaved head. In itself that isn’t uncommon these days but the red and black paint on his face and head was. He nodded to me and I nodded back. Somehow it seemed right that we should communicate silently. Once he saw I was awake and mildly functional he reached to a pile of leather next to him and drew a wood bow from its case. He stood up, strung the bow, and hung a quiver over his shoulder. Taking a last look at me he strode into the forest and was quickly lost to me view.
Kind of a freaky guy, I thought as I struggled upright to sit crosslegged. Then I thought, look at me, if a hiker were to come across me I’d look pretty much the same. I wondered what the odds were that two re-enactor type people would be in the same place at the same time like this; pretty slim, if you ask me. But I wasn’t going to complain, it was obvious that I was pretty sick and his brief presence had cheered me considerably. I was suddenly startled when he stepped around the boulder. Do I walk that quietly? I was also startled to see a rabbit in his hand. Either he had a freezer back there in the trees or he’s a heck of a lot better shot than I am, he’s hardly been gone 15 minutes! I walked for two hours the day before and we know what kind of results I had. Carrying his quiver and strung bow with him he walked out into the meadow a few yards and quickly skinned and gutted the animal. He then walked to the stream to rinse the meat briefly and returned to the little camp. I slept some more while rabbit stew was cooking. I was happy to see that he cooked the same way I had the previous night.

As I lay there in my fever I thought I saw my companion draw my arrows from their quiver. While he nodded approvingly over the nocks and fletching my crudely knapped points earned a grimace. Putting the arrows back into the quiver he opened one of his pouches and pulled out some antler knapping tools and small obsidian pre-forms. I drifted off to sleep lulled by the steady snick and tink of his knapping.
When I awoke the next day my fever was gone and I felt as if I may just survive the ordeal I had put myself through. I sat up from my bed and looked around for my new friend. He was nowhere to be seen. I glanced around my little campsite to see if his things were still there against the rock and they were also gone. In fact, the closer I looked the less I saw: there was no depressed grass where he had sat and lain, my gourd bowl was at my side full of water, not rabbit bones, and there was no pile of obsidian flakes from his knapping. I looked closely where he had sat and the debitage just wasn’t there.
I felt it pretty odd that he had left but I guess there’s no accounting for some folks. It wasn’t like we had shared life stories. I was feeling pretty good so I went ahead and packed my things back up and prepared for the walk back to my truck. I knew I’d be weak from my illness so I wanted plenty of time to take things slow and easy for the walk back.
Four hours later I was back to my truck and really starting to doubt whether someone had shared my campsite with me at all. After a nap across the front seat of my truck, I headed home. On the drive home I turned things over in my mind:
I’d been pretty sick with a high fever.
I had no evidence of anyone else being there with me.
Had I hallucinated the whole thing?
By the time I pulled into my driveway I decided that was exactly what I had done. My mind had taken my buckskin clothes, primitive gear, and desire to “get away from it all” and created a companion for me while I was sick. Well, I think this is something I’ll just keep to myself. My wife knows I have an eccentric side and the people I work with suspect it. No sense in confirming everyone’s suspicions. I racked the weekend up to an interesting trip that could have gone pretty badly, but didn’t. I was a few days recovering my strength but overall it was a weekend well worth the experience.

Epilogue: Three weeks after my camping trip my son asked me to show my primitive gear to his Boy Scout troop. No way could I pass that up so I gathered everything together and went to his meeting with him.
The kids were pretty excited to see what I had so we sat in a circle as I showed them each part of my kit. My handiwork on sewing the buckskins and pouches has never been the best but the kids were impressed; they even liked my crude attempts at beadwork. I strung the bow for them and after threatening dire consequences for dry firing the bow I passed it around the circle. Not wanting to let the kids have arrows at the same time as a strung bow I waited until it came back around the circle to me and I unstrung it before picking up my quiver. I pulled the arrows from the quiver and looked at them with some confusion. Then the hair on the back of my neck bristled and stood on end. At the end of the arrows my crudely knapped points had been replaced with the most beautifully knapped points I have even seen. Without having to compare them I knew that they would match perfectly the arrowhead I had found deep inside that lightning struck tree.
No matter how many times I have re-visited the spot, I have never again seen the quiet man who sat with me when I was sick. But I always wonder just how long he’s been camping there.

Richard's Arrows

I got these mostly finished yesterday while Curtis was here. The final touches went on today and they'll be headed to Richard's Monday morning.
Richard Saffold is a bowmaker in Goleta, California. You can see his website here: Richard's Bowyery. While he's accomplished in many materials and a number of designs, Richard particularly likes working with ipe, a Brazilian hardwood normally used in the US for decks. Richard was one of the pioneers of working with this wood and he really turns out an incredible bow.
When necessary, Richard likes to send out a matched arrow with a bow. That way the customer has an idea of what to get when he orders or makes his arrows. This bunch of arrows I've made have the spine and weight written on that white strip right in front of the cresting.
Not a lot of art on these arrows. Richard will be using them for test shooting and some may go out with various bows as they get shipped to their new homes. It's been a little while since I used stains or dyes on the crown so I thought this bunch would be a good opportunity to reacquaint myself with the beauty of still seeing the wood grain in the crown.

Thanks for looking!

And a fun time was had by all...

Had a great time today. A gentleman from PaleoPlanet came over to learn a little more about building arrows. Yotman on PaleoPlanet, Curtis in real life, seemed to have a good time visiting. I was in the middle of making some arrows for Richard Saffold so Curtis got to see a little of the process and get a lot of questions answered.
You know, all the information is out there on the web and in books and magazines but for the most part it’s spread all over the countryside and it can really take some time getting it all together. It’s not always easy to decipher terms or determine what tools are needed and what tools are just nice to have.
Fayme took a couple pictures today but nothing planned or with any particular purpose. Unfortunately, Curtis isn’t even in them, just my grey head and fat fingers.

Funny how small the world is sometimes. Turns out that Curtis is a current member of a predator hunting club that I was very active in a number of years ago. It was great to hear some familiar names and find that we had so much in common.

18th Annual Pacific Coast Traditional Challenge

This past weekend found the gang up at Conejo Valley Archers in Simi Valley, CA to participate in one of the best traditional archery shoots of the year. I may get disagreement from some people but I find this to be *the* best trad shoot of the year.

This is a two day shoot over Saturday and Sunday. The club has been able to make arrangements for special camping fees at a county park right next to the range. This year little miss ranger must have gotten the word because we didn't seem to have any problems with her. Last year her supervisors neglected to tell her of the special prices and she was about ready to lock us all up before a CVA officer saved the day.

Over the years this shoot's format has changed a bit as the club tries different things. This year it was 50 3D targets. There were also some novelty shoots with a seperate entry fee but the opportunity to win part of your fee back if you shoot well. On the regular targets we shot 30 targets on Saturday and the remaining 20 on Sunday. There was a smoker round on Saturday that drew a pretty good crowd.

I shot with a great bunch of folks and everyone had a great time. Tom Mills got permission to use his atlatl and darts in place of a bow and as I predicted, he threw his 7' bamboo and cane darts better than I shot with my bow and matched arrows.

Here is Ken getting ready to rain doom on a hapless foam animal. Ken likes heavier bows and it's fun to see his big arrows rock the target back.

Salvador lets one fly as Aimee, Phil, and bit of Ken look on. Salvador is a great person to spend time with. I am forever in his debt for the things he has taught me. Things like, "You'll shoot better if you come to full draw and anchor before loosing the arrow..."


Here's Tom on that same target, getting ready to show us all how it's done.

This is a fun shot. All you have to do is shoot under the rope. You can lay on your back, your stomach, or try to kneel low enough to get an arrow under the rope and into the target. Phil elected to lay on his back and he did pretty well.

Yeah, here's Tom again showing off his form. Carl looks like he's about to tip over with the amazement of it all.

This is a really fun target. One of the club members hides behind a piece of plywood and tosses up foam disks for us to shoot at. Guess how Tom did...

I didn't get any pictures the second day. Fayme took a few while she manned a craft and face painting booth she put up. Here is the link to her Flickr pictures for Conejo Traditional Archery Shoot.

Thanks for a great shoot, CVA. I'm ready for next year!

An Arrow Art Build-Along

I got a request recently for direction on how I do some of the art I use on arrows. I sent the gentleman a pretty detailed email but didn't have any pictures to include. I spent some time today taking a series of pictures for three different techniques that I'll post here.

Here are the supplies and tools I'll use for this series. We've got an arrow shaft that I've already coated with grey paint for a base, three different paint colors, glaze, plastic wrap, a sea sponge, and a plate to mix the paint on.

First, I'll show a simple technique using just the base color and a top color that is mixed with glaze.
Glaze is a paint extender, it slows the drying time and in some instances can change the color a bit. In this application I used a light glaze instead of the transparent glaze I intended to use. By the time I realized I'd grabbed the wrong glaze I was too far along to stop and go get the right one.
For this application I'm mixing paint and glaze 1:1. After mixing the two together I take a little wad of plastic wrap from the kitchen and dab it into the paint/glaze mix. Dab most of the paint off on a paper towel and then randomly dab it on the arrow shaft. Move the plastic wrap around to maximize the random factor. You can put on as much or as little as you wish.

For the next technique I won't use glaze, just the paint. With this one two colors are used in addition to the base coat color.
With a dampened sea sponge the first color is dabbed onto the shaft in a random manner. As you do this turn the sponge around in your hand. Just as in the previous technique, get the paint on the sponge and then take most of it off on a paper towel so you don't get too much paint on the shaft. Most of the base color should be covered over but some will still show through.

After the first color is dry, do the second color in the same manner. To help blend the colors and make softer edges you can lightly mist the shaft with water before putting on each of the two colors.

The effect will look different depending upon which color you do first and the other second. With the two colors I chose there was little difference. If you'll look back through arrows pictures I've posted here you'll see some done with brown paints that look like a dirt camo one way and kind of sand camo the other. Be sure to do what I didn't do today: test your colors before starting the project.

The last technique is kind of interesting. This time we'll mix the paint and glaze at about a 1:5 ratio, 1 part paint to 5 parts glaze. Use the sea sponge to get the paint/glaze mixture on most of the shaft and while it is still wet, wrap it in plastic wrap. Wrap it rather snug. After a few moments, unwrap it and you'll see the plastic pull off some of the paint mix and leave behind an interesting texture.
Here are pictures of all three techniques, and of the bottle of glaze I meant to use...

My apologies for the quality of the pictures. I was trying to shoot with one hand, hold the other hand in the picture, and do it all before the paint dried. I hope you're able to see the process without too much dificulty.

All the paints and glaze are available at craft stores like Michael's, Jo-Anne's, etc. These are the same paints I use for cresting. They are inexpensive, easy to use, and they come in enough colors that always be able to get just what I need.

If you have any questions just let me know.

Tool Time

I don't remember where I saw it on PaleoPlanet but someone recently made a post about converting a shingle hatchet to a bowmaking hatchet by trimming the head and making it into a bearded hatchet.
That sounded like a pretty neat project so while we were in Quartzsite a few weeks ago I kept an eye out for old shingle hatchets in all the piles of rusty tools and "antiques." I picked up these three.

Today we spent some time at David Brunetta's studio in Laguna Beach, CA and he helped me do the conversion. Actually, all I did was use his metal cutting bandsaw to trim the "beard" out of the two bigger heads and take care of rough shaping. David did the final shaping, polishing, and heat treating.
David had an idea for the smaller hatchet and did some trimming, forging, and welding to make it into a small adze. It's too small for building a dugout canoe but I'm hoping it will work well for bowl making.
As soon as I figure out handles for these three I'll be able to see if the concept has merit.
All in all, I think things turned out pretty well.


David also gave me forging lessons and I really learned a lot:
Hammer control is everything.
Playing with red hot steel gets pretty warm.
It's not as easy as a master like David makes it look.

While the two little knives I pounded out aren't worth public exhibition, I have hopes that future pieces will be better.
David is getting ready to offer forging lessons on a one-on-one basis. If you get the chance to take lessons from him, you won't regret it. He is an absolute artist with hot steel, and a number of other mediums.

An Arrow Build-Along

A number of years ago I participated in an archery group on Yahoo Groups. To contribute something to the group I put together a simple arrow build-along detailing steps I took to build a basic set of arrows. Some of my practices and methods have changed a little now but the build-along still has great information in it, especially for a new arrow maker wondering what tools to get and how to use them.
After I had finished with the series of posts Fayme volunteered to host the whole series on a free website she had access to. I think the account she created it under is long gone so we can't make any changes or updates, but the site itself is still floating around out there for folks to look at.

Arrow Build-Along

Let me know if you have any questions. I hope you enjoy it.

July 10 update: We just found out that Geocities will be deleting the free website the build-along is hosted on in October, '09. If you wish to do so, this would be a good time to copy any pictures or descriptions to your computer (for your own reference only, please).