Period camp minimalist

[sean]

From Audubon's journal on the Yellowstone in 1843 as quaoted in Tykal's book on Etienne Provost:

When Bell was fixing his traps on his horse this morning, I was amused to see Provost and LaFleur laughing outright at him. These old hunters could not understand why he needed all those things to be comfortable. Provost took only an old blanket, a few pounds of dried meat, and his tin cup, and rode off in his shirt and dirty breeches. LaFleur was worse off for he took no blanket and said he could borrow Provost's tin cup; but he being a most temperate man, carried a bottle of whiskey to mix with brackish water.

Sean

[Rod]

Thanks for that quote-----I've read it before, but for the life of me I couldn't remember where. Those guys went pretty light, no frills for them!

Rod

[Cody]

Yup them coons are real light weights HEHEHE .There was an old bear hunter from here bouts named Ben Lilly that used to travel like that ,just a gun ,dog or two and not much else , used to say if he got wet he believed if he dried hisself off it would cause him to get sick and would sleep right on the wet ground ,said the ground had healing powers to it .He was something of a religious man and called his wife (the daughter of Gamora).My wifes grandfather and Lilly took Theo.Roosevelt bear hunting down here .They both would take off hunting and never knew when they was comeing back ,Lilly may stay gone monthes or on a few ocations a couple years ,wife sent him off after a hawk that was troubleing her chickens and didnt come back for two years ,she asked him why he was gone so long and Lilly said he kept flying.

[sean]

This quote has to be taken into context, of course. Provost and LaFleur were heading up the Yellowstone from Ft. Union for a 6 day hunting trip in the summer with a bunch of relative greenhorns. They were not headed to the high country for months on end. I would wager that they were pulling ol' Bell's tail at least a little. But the quote does make you think that Baker's one-blanket rule is for sissies.

On the subject of Ben Lilly, He spent a lot of time roaming the head waters of the Gila in New Mexico, chasing bears and cats. I myself have roamed the same country pretty extensively and have spent more than a few nights out in the southwestern mountains, sans blanket, in a pile of oak leaves raked up under a tree. I've had some nights like that which were quite pleasant and others where I've gotten up in the middle of the night and moved on to keep from getting hypothermia... And that was in the summer.

Sean

[pathfinder]

Sean

A night out in the South San Juan's!


Spirit Led

A friend who owned a Christian Retreat facility once asked if my two son's and I would pack a group of his board members into a camping spot on the back of their property for a overnight campout. We barrowed two more mules from my friend Jo Bob and with the camp's two horses and our mules we had just enough to pack the camp in the night before and then return to the retreat facility to carry riders to the camp site the next morning. As is usual we got a late start and ended up getting to the camp site just before dark. When we had unloaded packs and set up the tents, it was dark....very dark. No moon and overcast. You couldn't see your hand at arms length. But my oldest son Young and I still needed to lead the string out so we could meet up with the riders in the morning at the trailhead. Saying good bye to my son James and a camp employee, we began to pick our way back towards the facility. I lead the way on my faithful mount Roanie on a trail that was frankly really not a horse trail at all, but rather just a barely visible game trail, even in good light. Certain shadows and outlines made me believe that, though I couldn't see a thing, my mule was headed back exactly the way we had come. It was necessary to hold my free hand out in front of my face , so as to not be knocked off by low lying, impossible to see, tree branches. Along the trail we went for some 45 minutes or so when suddenly Roanie made a sharp right turn.Up until now I was amazed at how well we were doing and what incredible eye sight mules must have to see that well in the dark. But suddenly it appeared that Roanie had got it all wrong and was heading in the wrong direction. Wanting to correct the error and being pretty sure I knew where we were, I lightly took hold of the reins for the first time and obediently Roanie turned left. Suddenly we were completely surrounded by thick oak brush....in all directions, with nothing even remotely resembling a trail. For what seemed hours we stumbled around in the darkness, crashing through branches, being whipped and scratched in the faced, having my hat knocked off and finally having to dismount in order to pick our way through, hoping to stumble back on the trail. Finally we could go no further. Exhausted and realizing that I couldn't afford to let my male ego drive us any further, I had to admit we were lost. Our only option was to spend the night out in the open. If we survived the night, we could ride out and meet our riders in the morning rather than that night as we had planned.

When I say survive, I was under no illusion of how serious our situation could turn if it got very cold. Every year, many more people die of hypothermia than just about all other outdoor activities combined. Having taught Hunters Education and survival for a number of years I took our circumstances very serious. I had once been on a trail ride where another father and son had gone out on their own, gotten lost and were forced to spend the night out without a fire on a very chilly September night. The father was shaking violently the next morning when they spotted a ranch house and were able to get to it before it was too late.

Here we were without my survival pack, which I never go without. We had no flash light and nothing to keep us warm. I did have a lighter I carried on my saddle for emergencies and we used the illuminated dials on our "Timex" watches to see our way around. The problem was we were in the middle of very dry oak brush that had already dropped their leaves. The wind was just strong enough that a "whiteman's fire" was out of the question. Only a small fire to warm ourselves was possible and in time the wind picked up enough that we had to extinguish that. That sleepless night, I wrapped my arms around my son's 6 foot plus frame and prayed that his trembling would stop and the pain in his legs would subside. The long night finally began to end with dawn's first hues of light in the east. Young had warmed enough to finally drift asleep, and God graciously kept me awake to keep us both warm. With the light we quickly saddled our mounts and rode back down the hill where we picked up the trail and were back at the facility within an hour. It turned out to be"no big deal", as so often is the case, but was a miserable night spent out none the less.
As we were riding in, the Holy Ghost began to minister to me a very obvious but valuable insight. He said to me that He was like that mule. He was able to see what was ahead even when we couldn't. That as long as I let Him have the reins He would lead us safely where we needed to go. The moment I took hold of the reins to go the way I thought we should go, we got lost. Now as believers our detour can only last a "night", and when the "light" comes again we can quickly come back to the right path. When we realize that we have gone astray, it is vital we acknowledge it, repent and then wait on God to correct our error. Like I said obvious, and maybe over simplified, but how often do we get off track when God is leading us exactly where we should be going. Why do we really think we know best? Sometimes life to me is like a "spiritual minefield". If we don't listen to the guidance of the Holy Spirit's leading we can blow our foot off or worse! Simple lesson? Maybe, but one I find I still struggle with. The Bible says "sheep know the voice of the shepherd, and a strangers voice they will not follow".Sometimes life and our decisions are serious enough that we can't afford not to get His leading. Remember, the Devil, the world and even our flesh has it's own agenda. The Shepherd knows the way we should go, sometimes we're better off when we sit down and wait for the light than to charge on when we know we are off.
Be Blessed! Doug

[pathfinder]

My son carrying bed roll and provisions for three nights.

[Cody]

It was just this evening that I was telling my bride that not for the grace of God I would have gone under dozens of times .Not speaking of the military years which I wont speak of just now a couple times come to mind now that we are speaking of cold nights .On time back in the 70s I was camped trapping down The Darbonne Bayou slepping in a single quilt (one blanket rule ) when some rain up north caused the river to rise and came up on me in the night and I woke with about 3" of water on me and about 4" of ice around the edge of my quilt .I tried my boat but the current too strong for me to make it so I tied off and decided to walk out the 7 mi. to the road and 10 more from there to home .I wadded till I would come to a slough and they were so deep that I would have to hold onto trees and monkey it across .Finally got to the road and it was under water for a mile or so .Boys I was cold ,it was probobly in the 20s and didnt think much of it then it was just a bad day to me then but with age I look back and know there was somebody greater than me blazzin trail that day .I dont know why I wouldnt have just died in my sleep .
Anouther time I was in the Uncomadre Mountains elk hunting (by myself again )when I seen some elk up on the side of the mountain .It was getting close to evening time and I knew I wouldnt have long to make a stalk and knowing how the wind swirles about the and calculating on it thought the best was was going to be to work my way up to the side and come in from the side .Well I dropped alot of my close so I wouldnt get too hot till I had long johns and a Levis jacket .I got up close to them (too close really )when I had some behind me and above me besides the ones in front I was working but no bull .I was scared I would spook them out of the country if I proceded so I decided to stay put and let them graze off if I didnt see a bull and try to pick them back up in the morning .Bad part was it took them till dark to do that and by now its -10 or so and Im getting sort of on the stiff side and the rock on that hill was sort of crumbly so I had to go slow to keep from falling .By the time I made it to camp I couldnt move my hands at all had to hug my rifle to carry it .
Dont call it the high lonesome for nuttin but thanks to The Father I made it through ,Thanks to him I was able to survive and go on to being a Missionary for him to the Indian Nations.

[sean]

I spent the better part of a decade living out of a wall tent/backpacking tent/no tent as a wildlife biologist in the SW mountains and Great Basin. I'll say that most of the work I did was the night-time, off-trail, on-foot sort and will leave it at that. The closest I ever came to dying was about 2 feet and one prickly pear patch. I was crossing a big rock monocline from one point to the next and there was enough moonlight that I was running sans headlamp. It was February, about 2 am, and -6 degrees Fahrenheit by the thermo on my light pack. I was working alone with my little pup who's now crippled, deaf, half blind and just passed his 15th birthday (Dog) and I was miles back in the back country in the mountains on an army base. I was wearing a pair of White's logging boots and I rolled a rock out from under one of those logger heels and went down hard. I went rolling ass over tea kettle down this rock with my dog chasing. Next thing I knew I hit a big ol' patch of pricklies and it ground me to a painful halt. I remember it was about a 3/4 moon and a clear night and I looked up at the moon getting low in the west. Then I noticed that there was about a 25' straight drop right off my shoulder. It wouldn't have been enough to kill me right off, but I would've died from the cold and shock sure enough. I don't think I was never quite so happy to pull off my coveralls in -6 degree weather and start pulling out spines with a leatherman. Took me months to find all those spines. I'd get a red swollen spot somewhere months later and give it a good squeeze and out would pop one of those spines that saved my ass... Of course, I am a wuss compared to old Etienne. We're it him in that position, he would have whittled out a bow with his teeth, used his ass for a quiver, and shot those prickly spines for arrows at the Apaches that were chasing him.

Sean