28 June 2016

Bivouac in the Woods

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Pine Tree Bend – Midsummer week

I carried a “lazy man’s bivouac” up to Pine Tree Bend the other day, returning the next afternoon.  It was a refreshing experience to be alone out in the woods overnight.  So rejuvenating.

By “lazy man’s bivouac” I mean hauling only the extremely lightweight bare essentials:  sleeping bag, mat, water filter, etc.  No tent, cooker, etc.  (Ok, I admit it, my sleeping mat is one that converts into a lounge chair at ground level, a Therma-Rest “Therma-Lounger”, a decadent luxury at only one pound of extra weight in the pack.  I will not apologize.)

I was entertained by chipmunk Olympics in the afternoon as four or five of the little critters chased each other and tumbled together.  Then birdsong at dusk, the song of the Thrush (Wood Thrush?).  After complete darkness the fireflies provided an astonishing display.

I was in ecstasy as I simply sat in the woods, watching and listening.

Blessed coolness.  Zen delight.

-Zenwind.
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Moonlight Return on Back Roads

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The Moon was a waxing gibbous one, rising in the late afternoon well before dark in the southeast.  I was visiting one of my dearest friends from my youth, and they provided me with precious conversation and companionship all afternoon and evening, also cooking me a fantastic pot roast.  It was an incredibly high time of friendship and direct communication, a priceless memory that tapped into old memories.

I had planned on walking, on back roads, the three miles or so back to my SG lodgings and had hoped to be under way while the Moon was still high and bright.  At about 01:30 hours I noticed that the Moon had peaked and was descending low into the southwest, so I headed out (“to the territory ahead”, as Huck Finn put it).  It was a very fine walk in the moonlight.

It took me 1 hour and 20 minutes to cover the ground.  By the time I reached the farm – at 03:00 hours – Mars was sinking out of sight in the southwest and the Moon was following.  What amazed me was that not one dog barked as I walked by numerous farms on the back roads.  (And not one car went by – on a Friday night!)

The day with my dear friend and the moonlight walk home is a high point of my sojourn in the USA.

-Zenwind.
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06 June 2016

Pine Tree Bend: re-discovered

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Pine Tree Bend is an old secret bivouac site of mine close to home on the hill above the S.G. gravel pit, and this entire area was my old stomping grounds from the 1960s on through the decades following (on motorcycle, horse, and mostly on foot).  Today I found the site again after so many years in exile.

This little bitty site is off the trails and in a very small obscure streambed’s gorge.  The stream bends around the bank on which the big old pine tree stands.  The little ledge near the tree is big enough for a tent or two, and the stone fire-circle that I built long ago is still there.  It is a hermit site, dear to this hermit.

The entire site is long-neglected and littered with leaves and branches, and it will take some cleaning up.  The old pine tree is still alive, but its dead branches now go up higher than ever toward the fewer live ones at the very top.  I think that one will still be able to hear the wind through the pine when the wind is wild enough, but the pine tree probably has only a decade or two left before it dies out.

Finding the spot was an exercise in lone wandering, to ramble from one possible path to another.  It is great joy to encounter old trails, some abandoned, some still used  but with both old and new variations.  I have always thought that Exploration is the very Soul of Man.  I love such rambling – pure hobo joy!

-Zenwind.
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05 June 2016

Machete 101

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I always thought that I was extremely knowledgeable and competent with using a machete, from use in Vietnam and in the many decades since, hacking my way through stubborn brush and bush.  Alas, I have been but a rank amateur.  I only learned to properly use the machete blade just this last week.  I had been trying to cut a path through brush to connect to a hiking trail.

I had always relied on  brute strength, chopping as if with an axe.  But this week I lacked the strength because of a bad injury to my left arm and elbow (possibly because of machete work the week before or from manhandling heavy boxes of books and gear in my sister’s attic or from both).  And my right arm was not strong anymore, so I had to operate from weakness.

I sharpened the machete blade extra well, and I took the sharpening stone along for constant re-honing.  I found that I had to use “wrist English” to cut through the grasses, brush and briers, flicking the blade in a slicing motion rather than a chopping one.

I cut smaller swathes with patience, like my father taught me to do with the long scythe and the short sickle.  My lack of strength let me discover how to exploit the machete’s ingenious design, from letting the blade’s slicing swing lead from the handle end to allow slicing progressively toward the blade’s point end, with a finishing flick of the wrist utilizing the blade's wide-curved tip end.

Re-sharpening every five minutes and pacing myself to the long job, I now understood the philosophy of the machete for the first time.  Enlightened menial labor.  I get it!

-Zenwind.
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