Personal knives

When Im out and about in the woods mountains or deserts of the world I usually carry only 4 knives, sometimes only 2. Usually always a Green river blade and a Swiss Army pocket knife or “SAK” in the bushcraft  hipster parlance.

The knives I use are multi functional and have served me well. I find it unnecessary to load myself down with too many knives. If need be I can make one from glass, stone, bone or metal. My personal Knife collection is pretty small, maybe 20 or so but they are all the same type. I go for function and not Flash, Opting for what Works instead of what looks good. Id never pay big bucks for a Blade, too me that is silly and a waste of your money. I do appreciate the Beauty of the custom made Knives though.

The blades I usually carry are ;

1.Green River Butcher knife .

2. Any type of Swiss Army Knife with a Saw and 2 cutting Blades.

3. Old timer Whittling Knife, for making spoons or whatever I may need.

4. Case "Hobo" with detachable Spoon and Fork.

I have 3 of these knives  in my pocket right now!

Occasionally in 3^rd world countries, I have to buy a jungle knife or machete depending on where I am in the world, Or Ill buy a Blade as a gift for a friend. And, once in a while I carry a multi tool.

I never carry a sharpening stone or steel in the field. I witnesses numerous Filipino and Thai Jungle guides sharpening Knives with just a River stone, I paid attention to them and can now sharpen my own blades fairly well with the "Jungle river stone method".

Christmas 2009

HUACHUCA MOUNTAINS - CHRISTMAS eve 2009;

I had planned on spending a lazy day cooking and watching movies then turn in early, But my adventurous spirit got the better of me and I grabbed my mountain bike & survival gear (camel

back HAWG) and Lit out for the Huachuca Mountains abt 10 miles away.

It is a tough ride and uphill all the way from my apartment, I managed to make it into the foothills in about 1 1/2 hours. I was battling wind and rain, and I could see that there was a lot of snow coming down in the higher peaks so I made the decision to set up camp in Brown canyon.

It took me a few minutes to set up my cheap walmart tent, then rig my plastic tarp over it for additional protection.I grabbed my gear and threw it into the tent, then it was just a matter of riding out the

weather.

The gear I had on my bike consisted of tent, plastic sheeting, army goretex bivvy bag, slumberjack summer bag, crazy creek chair, my cook set, 4 knives my trusty old Green river knife named "old

butch", my Case hobo, a Swiss army knife with a saw, and my old timer whittling knife.

Type 1 and type 5 nylon(parachute cord's). 1 gallon of water, camera, a light wind suit, extra socks, gloves, beanie cap, ball cap and other misc gear. my food consisted of 3 cans of sardines, instant coffee, sky flake crackers, animal crackers, thai style instant tea, and some candies.

Darkness fell quickly so I crawled into my sleeping bag and settled in for the night. I laid in my sleeping bag listening to the rain hitting my tent and singing Christmas carols to myself.

During the night I could hear several Javalina moving around in the dark and heard the hoot of some owls, I noticed in the morning that a pack rat had stolen the lid to my travel mug.

It turned out to be a rainy, cold and windy night, I stayed in my bag until 1st light then got up to a cloudy Christmas morning.

The time was only about 7 am and since it was not raining I wanted to make some coffee before heading down the mountain. I kindled a small fire from oak and juniper wood using my bic lighter.

sitting in my crazy creek chair I filled my old army canteen cup with water and sat it on the coals to

boil. It was somewhat refreshing to be out in the cold air. I sat there watching wilderness TV(the fire) while the water boiled and munched a few animal crackers for breakfast.

I had done a lot of thinking during the night about Christmases in the past, I came to my own conclusion that it is all and illusion, and created by merchants to sell products. The necessity people feel to buy and celebrate a false holiday never ceases to amaze me.

I would much rather be sitting alone near a small fire in the beautiful mountains then to be in a house full of people I don't really like or get along with, celebrating a false holiday - just my opinion.

By and by the water boiled and I made myself a full canteen cup or Folgers brand(my personal favorite) instant coffee, ate some animal crackers. While dining in regal splendor there in the mountain I decided to stay over another night, I still had a little food and plenty of coffee. The only problem was water but I knew where to get that up the trail.

I packed my gear, then locked my bike and hid it in the woods, cached my tent in another area then headed up the trail. My intention was to go to a spring I knew of and top off my water bottles, do a quick scout around then return to my camp area before dark. As I hiked along I began to see a lot of illegal alien signs, i.e. cast off clothing, candy wrappers, sardine cans etc.

Since I was low on food I made a quick scout around to see if I could locate a "Lay up site" and recover some canned food from the back packs the illegals throw away.

As luck would have it I located a small lay up site and was able to recover 2 cans of re fried beans, and 2 cans of tuna con vertudes (vegetables), a good score!

I stuffed the cans into my pack then continued my hike up to the spring. Upon arrival at the spring i did as planned, topped off all of my water bottles then hid all but 1 of them.

I emptied out my pack and hid the contents of it along with the water bottles. Taking only food, water, and my bivvy sack I headed up the trail to Carr Peak. There was a bit of snow on the ground but the

trail was clear.

Along the way I saw a flock of turkeys (10 i think), they were difficult to count due to their moving

around. I also spotted several Sonoran Coues deer, and saw plenty of javalina and Bear sign.

Since I had left Camp at about 8am I intended to hike 4 to 5 hours up the trail then turn around and head back to camp so that I would have plenty of light to do so.

It was great to be on the trail and seeing all of the different wild life, the temperature was slightly cool

with a biting breeze, I loved it!

I made it all the way to the top of Carr peak 9000 plus feet, but was a little off of my allotted time

schedule.

I decided to run back down the mountain to where I had stashed my water and pack contents. Stripping down to my hoody, shoes and pants, I stuffed my wind suit and other clothes in my pack then began my

jogging decent.

It was a fairly easy jog down the mountain, I got to the gear stash, recovered my gear and water, then walked the remainder of the trail back to camp as a cool down.

My feet were a little sore By the time I got to camp, I left my bike hidden in the woods but recovered my tent , after pitching it and the rain tarp I again kindled a fire to boil water for coffee.

I remembered the cans of food I had recovered and made the choice to eat tuna and crackers for dinner, washed down with stout black coffee - It was a culinary delite! I finished off the meal with some hard candies for desert.

Thinking about it I realized that I was eating an international meal - Mexican style tuna, Filipino crackers, American coffee and Korean candies. Almost like dining in a 5 star restaurant!

Needles to say I was a little tired that night so I took a swig or two from my whisky flask then crawled in to my sleeping bag, I do not remember anything from that night because I slept very soundly.

Early the next morning I got up, mixed instant coffee in my nalgene bottle , drank it cold, packed my gear and headed for home.

It was a good two nights in the woods and great way to spend a "holiday" weekend, I enjoyed it very

much.

The "reality" of reality TV

Im am sorry to see how TV has turned the wilderness survival industry into a total debouch.Recently, I was watching the popular show "Alone", I find it hard to believe that the people on these shows are actually playing themselves. Who would be willing to degrade themselves just to get on TV? I guess many..... Hemingway said it best I think.... Ill paraphrase;
(Lets hope so)

“The celebrated develop a technique to deal with the persons they come across. They show the world a mask but take care to conceal their real selves. They play the part that is expected of them and, with practice play it very well. But, you are stupid if you think this public performance corresponds with the man within.”

 

Ernest Hemingway

 

Tomahawk in New Mexico

I was at my camp in the Huachuca mountains of South Eastern Arizona, and getting a little bored. I had been living there for the winter, Surviving on the meager funds I had at my disposal and a lot of dumpster diving on the army base. There were some pretty rich pickings in those dumpsters at the training areas. One morning, over coffee, I decided to head for New Mexico. I had no clear destination in mind, I would just headed east to see where I would end up. I packed up and Cached some of my extra gear, then hiked the 5 miles down to town from my "Stealth camp" in the mountains.

After a stop over at my storage locker in the town of Sierra Vista, where I swapped out some gear and clothing. I walked over to the dollar store and bought some sardines, crackers and the cheapest jar of instant coffee I could find. On my way back to the locker to get my pack I stopped at the tortilla factory and picked up 2 packages of corn tortillas, that left me enough $$ to buy a can of skoal dip, and a small bottle of coke. Im not really a pop drinker but I have found that, a few drops of coke in a canteen of water makes it a bit more palateable, especially warm or tepid water that has been sloshing around in a plastic canteen.

I crammed all of my gear into a small Northface "Krag dancer" pack and headed out. I walked to the edge of town then caught my first ride that dropped me off near tombstone. I took Highway 191 north through Arizona, and finally , in the town of Strawberry, Arizona. I caught a ride East with a kid who was going to new mexico. He wasnt a bad cat as I recall, and worked as a chef in phoenix. It was a long ride , and about 20 miles outside of Gallop, NM, I asked him to drop me off. Going into a town at night when you are hitch hiking is a pain in the ass unless you have the funds to get a hotel room.

After I got out of the car and my eyes adjusted to the moon light, I could see some cottonwood trees in the distance and could smell cow crap, so I knew there was a coulee near by. I jumped the fence and walked toward the cottonwoods, After about 300 meters and came upon a bluff over looking the coulee. I set my tent up near there with some sage brush shielding me from any view of the road. I have always made hidden camps, mostly for 2 reasons; 1. im probably trespassing and 2. I dont trust folks 100%. There is a line from a movie I remember, "It is very imprudent to let your presence be known in hostile country". Words to live by.

It was good to relax, eat some food, then stretch out in my tent. It had been a long day of travel and I was tired. I didnt have a sleeping bag with me, Just an Army poncho liner, and it got a bit cool toward morning. I tend to go by the old U.S. Army Infantry saying "Travel light freeze at night", it certainly held true that night.

In the morning, it was see your breath cold. After packing up, I headed down into the coulee out of site of the road, then built a small twig fire from sage brush. I took out my canteen cup, with lid, G.I. Spoon, coffee and tortillas. I heated some water for coffee, and scorched a few tortillas for breakfast. The cheap coffee I bought was horrible, so I added some coke to sweeten it up. The combo of coke and coffee is my own version of "Jolt cola".

Thusly refreshed, I headed up to the road and stuck out my thumb, the rest of the day was a series of rides with some very interesting folks.

My last ride picked me up just outside of the Jicarilla Apache Reservation near the town of Jicarilla, new Mexico, the term Jicarilla comes from Mexican Spanish and means "Little Baskets". This guy was a self proclaimed pot grower and claimed he had plantations all over the mountains. He told me he was heading toward Taos and knew of a place near Valdez that was good for camping.

The Dude dropped me off in the mountains outside of Valdez, New Mexico, in the Hondo river valley, of the Beautiful Sangre De Cristo Mountains. It is a pretty, riparian area with lots of wild edibles to be had. Its only drawback is that it is near Taos, NM, which like Tombstone, Az, has become a major tourist trap, with over priced everything.

I shouldered my pack then headed off the road and into the woods, walking toward the river. I didn't have much food left in my pack, but my last ride gave me some beer, corn chips and donuts. It was late in the afternoon so I dropped my pack , took off my leather hiking boots and changed into my canvas high top sneakers. There were numerous large dandelion plants growing at this spot so I pulled up several and cut out the "crown" where the leaves meet the root. Earlier in the day I had collected some burdock root and curly dock while on the Jicarilla Apache reservation.

wading knee deep into the river, I went searching for crayfish or any type of wild plant edibles that I may find. I had already bagged 2 decent sized crayfish when I spied a bunch of water cress growing in a small stream feeding into the Hondo.

I drew my old Green River knife from its raw hide neck sheath and carefully cut several bunches of cress. This combined with the burdock root,dandelion crowns, and curly dock I had collected earlier would make the base for a decent stew. Placing the cress into my net bag along with my crayfish ,I waded back into the stream to look for more. After about 15 minutes more searching I ended up with a total of 5 Crayfish for my stew. It was a good haul.

Wading back down stream to where my pack was stashed, I Picked up my gear and looked about for a decent place to camp. I spotted a good looking area with some rocks behind and a small cosp of aspens to the front, I decided to pitch my tent there.

It took me about 10 minutes to set up my tent and tarp and to change out of my wet high top sneakers and back into my hiking boots. Grabbing my fishing line I headed back to the stream to try my luck , I was surprised to catch 2 decent sized trout, one right after the other.

A sprinkle of rain had began, so I cleaned my fish at the stream and headed back to my camp to gathered some fire wood and tinder. I wanted to get a fire going and cook my fish and wild veggies.

I chopped up the fish and veggies and threw that, along with the crayfish into my small blue enameled cooking pot. I added some salt,and let it cook until the fish fell apart. After the stew had cooked I added some crushed chillies, olive oil,and a dash of vinegar for flavoring. I had a few beat up corn tortillas in my pack so I heated those on the coals and made a canteen cup of coffee.

All in all it was a tasty meal, I rounded it off with a few handfulls of home made trail mix and raw oatmeal. Sitting there by my fire looking around, I noticed that the river bluffs reminded me of sleeping mountain lions, I listened to the sound of the aspen leaves as they danced on the wind, and in the gathering twilight I could see bats and nightjars swoop and dive at the insects along the river. It was a good way to spend a summer evening. You dont see Riparian animals too much in my neck of the Arizona Mountains.

It was refreshing to be there along the Hondo.I hung out for a few days along the river and the Bull of the woods area, it was beautiful there, and I did some hiking near Wheeler peak , which is the highest point in New Mexico.

After about a week of hiking around and hitching rides into Taos for supplies, I packed up and headed north to Raton to stop off and see my friend Alan and check on my favorite Mule Arlene. I managed to get to Raton with 3 rides, one was from a game warden....It marks the first time I was ever given a ride by law enforcement while Hitchhiking. Alan was out and About when I arrived so I dropped my pack in the Tack room and walked out in the pasture to see if his Remuda was around. but, no, they were not there except for Chief and another horse I didnt recognize. The rest of the remuda must be up in the hills above Raton, grazing on fresh grass.

I went back to the tack room and raided one of the Kayak boxes for some mountain house meals, I got down a stove, then heated some water for javva and to rehydrate the meals. I was 1/2 way through my 2nd freeze dried meal when Alan showed up. Ha had to run a few errands and as luck would have it, getting ready to head up to the NM/Colorado state line to set up a camp for a horse pack trip. We hopped on the quad runner and went out to wrangle the rest of the stock. Followed by a pack of dogs and a cloud of dust.

The area where the Remuda was at, is one of my favorite environments, it is where the mountains meet the prairie, so you find plants and trees from both areas there. It is a very rich environment. With lots of great Elk, deer, and Bear hunting in the Fall. We drove the quad up the fire break and the dogs were out ahead of us - they knew the deal and so did the horses and mules. With a lot of barking, some shouting and a bit of whistling, we got the equines headed down hill. I was actually able to rope tequila - one of my favorite horses, and hopped up on him for the ride back down the mountain. I dont know why, but for me, the scenery seems to be prettier if you are forked up on a good horse or mule.

Anyway, we drove stock down to the corrall, and would come fetch them up in the morning, we threw out a few bales of hay , then went back to the barn and loaded into a 10 horse trailer, all of the needed saddles, tentage, ropes and food for an over night trip.We were taking along Chief, Tequila, Arlene, Jake, Janet, Josie, and a couple others I didnt know. But all of Alans stock are good stout bastards and trail savvy, not to mention well trained. In my 7 years as a hunting guide, working around Mules, I found that there are 2 things they dont like - dogs and strangers..and, they can spot a rookie pretty quick. Though Im far from a rookie about working with Equines, I didnt know some of the newer Animals in Alans remuda so, I was going to work with Arlene as my mount, then josie and janet as pack animals.

We made all things ready for an early morning departure, then Al broke out some elk steaks and a gallon of cheap red wine....What a great way to spend a summer evening! sitting around outside, sipping wine, grilling bush meat, and swapping yarns with an old friend....I always liked that part of New Mexico as well, it is one of my favorite places.

Wayyy too early the next AM,we made guides coffee, then hopped in the truck and drove the trailer down to get the Horses and Mules, we caught them up, tied them off to the trailer, then groomed and saddled each animal, hooking the bridle and bit to the horn of our riding mounts saddles. After loading up, we drove to the sugarite state park on the NM/Colorado state line, parked the trailer and truck, unloaded the animals, packed our mules, with tents to set up for the upcoming guests, our food, water, a stove and some fuel, along with an axe, and a cross cut saw. Then we bitted our riding mounts, saddled up and lit out down the trail.

It was cool in the forest, there was a slight chill in the air, but it was refreshing to be out. Mounted on a good savvy trail Mule has always been a pleasure to me, it is one of the things I have always enjoyed. We climbed higher into the mountains , parts of the trail were pretty steep but Arlene had no trouble hauling me. Alans little black pack Mule, Jake was being a bit of a problem though, by fighting the others, and constantly trying to pull the lead rope away from Al.

I heard my friend say "Jake, you little Bastard" about 1000 times on that ride. There is something about black mules, they are - in my experience - always causing problems. Compared to red mules, which I have found are easier to work with. In fact, one Guide outfit I worked at in Montana would not mix red and black mules together in the same string. It was either all red mules or black mules. Never mixing horses into the pack string either. Horses are a pain in the ass on the trail, and compared to a good tough mule are delicate. Needing grain, special care, always tearing up a pack string etc. I have found that even the dumbest mule is still 10 times smarter then the smartest horse.

It took a few hours to get up to the first camp site area. We set up a picket line, then unsaddled all but our riding mounts and 2 pack animals. Taking the Axe and crosscut saw we went out and cut dead standing trees to make a tent frame for the sheep herder tent we brought along for the future guests. We set up the tent, then saddled up and went to the next location to do the same thing. We returned to the 1st camp site, unsaddled the rest of the stock, watered them, and broke out the grain and alfalfa.

There was no fire danger as of yet so we kindled a flame in the true Guides fashion with Ohio blue tip matches and coleman fuel. I cooked up a big pot of spaghetti,on the coleman stove, made coffee, and Alan dug a mostly full bottle of crown royal whiskey out of his war bag. We polished off dinner with a few apples and gave the cores to the pack stock. We also fed the dogs from the bag of dried food we brought along.

We sat around sipping coffee fortified with crown royal, swapped some lies and war stories about past hunts, and the people and Animals we have known. Alan, like most mountain man/cowboy types is very well read, and has a college education, it is always a pleasure to talk to him. He can intelligently talk about or discuss most any topic, with the exception of sports - same with me. I have never had an interest in sports, and find it silly, that most city types spend their lives worrying about what team is going to the toilet bowl or what ever it is called. To each his or her own I guess.

It was a good time up there in the woods with my friend Al and some of my favorite Animals. We eventually grew quiet, there were longer pauses in the conversation. I could see that my friend was deep in thought about something besides being here in the moment. I soon fell to sleep there by the fire, and awoke to throw a saddle pad over me and under me, to help ward off the night time chill. In the morning we packed up, saddled up, and hit the trail back to Raton. It was a good trip, but I was bound for another adventure.

Simon on the island of Reunion

Day 1:
I was leaving Saint-Denis heading straight to the south on some broad but pretty steep hiking path.
Quickly gaining higher ground I got a beautiful view over the city and the coastline, until finally the forest got thicker.
Passing the village of Le Brûle, where the local youth was having some kind of party, I reached the area of Camp Marmode in the late afternoon and set up sheler for the night.
Marmode is a leisure area on the border of the national park, which provides some wells and also prepared fireplaces.
I had a meal of rice & bread and went to sleep in my hammock.

Day 2:
The night was uncomfortable cold, and I realized thaht the jungle sleeping bag is on it's limits up here in the hills.
I made a strong black coffee to heat up myself and got ready to move on. At least the last-minute homemade alcohol stove is working great.
The terrain got even steeper today, with a lot of ups and downs. Finally, the decent into the valley of the Galets river began.

Day 3:
Getting to the bottom of the alley took me until nightfall yesterday, and my camp for the night was just the hammock between two trees on the edge of the river,
quickly thrown together in the darkness. Nevertheless, sleep was good this time, and today was a nice and easy hike following the river into the basin of Mafate,
which is still without a connection to the road network of the island and supplied fully by helicopters and people carrying their stuff over the mountains I crossed the last two days.
Passing the villages of Cayenne and Ilet de Beos, where I bought a bottle of ice cold Coca Cola from a little grocery shop located in a reed thatched hut by road. I found a nice spot for the night in a little pine forest.
Setting up hammock and mosquito net gest some kind of routine by now, and since the weather was good and no rain in sight I didn't setted up the tarp most nights.
A meal of lentils and sausages was prepared quickly and I later fell asleep to the sounds of drums and singing from the nearby village.

Day 4:
Today I went through the swampy rainforest in the Grand Sables area, realized the expected shelter place is no good and pushed on to the town o Hell Bourg.
I hitchhiked the last kilometers once I got out of the jungle into a more rural area and even got a neat and cheap accomodation in one of the typical creol wooden cabons. A hot shower and a hot meal served by the owner completed the day.
What I realized today is that the influence of the french goverment does not reach into the backcountry of the island, and fortunately also the french attitude is gone here. This is africa, and somehow I don't think that has to be bad.

Day 5:
I stocked up my supplys in Hell Bourg, mainly fresh fruits and cans of thuna. I also made the decision to bypass the Piton des Neiges (highest mountain on the island), because I'm doing already enough meters up and down every day.
(On a note, I returned two weeks later to the center of the island just to get on top of that mountain.)
For almost the whole day I followed a dirtroad that was created timber workers. I reached Camp Bebour, an old sugar cane farm that is abandoned now. A thick fog covered everything and the humidity condensated on the walls and clothing.
I assembled a makeshift bed in one of the empty buildings using parts of old üalettes and a loose door. I expected rain for the night so it was good to be indoors.

Day 6:
The weather was clear again the next morning. I hiked further south, and the rainforest opened up to a steppe-terrain with a few cattle farms in the wide open. On the horizon I can now see the vulcanious ridges of the Piton Fournaise.
While forcing myself up that ridge that seperates the vulcanious desert from the steppe, at arround 2000m above sea (consider the whole trip started at the coast)it got really sunny, and I realized that I left the clouds below me.
Seeing some of the huge peaks in the slowly setting sun above the ocean of clouds was an amazing view. I also marks how the area arround the vulcan got more and more sureal.
I started to run out of water when I reached the high point of the ridge, so I decided to continue the decent on the other side, into the desert, by night. I would sweat less and I knew the next cottage is not even a days march away.
After reaching the desert flat at arround 4 in the morning, I placed myself under some crippled small trees, rolled my sleeping bag out and napped for a few hours. The sky up here was amazing, it was a almost full moon and the stars
were so different from my home on the northern hemisphere. Thankfully, the lava sand was still warm from the heat it absorbed during the day. While gazing at the stars, I realized a strange red shine on the south-eastern horizon.

Day 7:
I was back on the trail by 7, crossing the desert towards the east and heading straight for the cottage. My waterbottles were all empty, and I now and then ate some pieces of the orange I had bought in Hell Bourg.
I reached the cottage by noon, gladly refilled my waterbbottles at the tap, andgot me a cup of coffee at the little tourists shop. There were a lot of tourists, and as i figured out, the red shine I saw last night was an ongoing eruption
of the vulcan. Which is an absolutely amazing sight. Seriously, it makes you feel small and hubmle. It is beautiful, yet intimidating.
There was a bushfire due to the eruption, and I decided to move to a safe shelter until the way to the southern coast was safe. Two hours to the north of the vulcan was a little hut next to a cattle farm, were I was away from the tourists,
had a steady supply on water through the waterhole on the farm, and the hut provided shelter.

Day 8:
It was stormy today, so I spend most of the time inside. Did some repairs on my gear, cooked 2 hot meals and finished "The Heart Of Darkness". I decided to dump my long trouser, because it was ripped beyond any chance of stiching it up.
Still had a short one and it will only get warmer the more I get towards the coast. I harvested all buttons for my swing kit though.

Day 9:
Time to move again. I'm getting bored and my supplies low. Not the rice and lentils, but the tasty stuff. I once again passed the vulcan and went back into the desert. The air was a thick mix of fog and cold smoke, and the view less than 100m.
I followed little rock piles that marked the way through the black vulcanic desert. From time to time I passed burnt down trees, and as the view got better I could see the black cones of smaller, long gone cold vulcans.
I spent almost the whole day crossing this surreal wasteland, and when I setted up the hamock for my last night in the outdoors, it was almost dark. I was back in the rainforest again, and the night was filled with the sound of unknown birds
and insects.

Day 10:
It started to rain last night and I had a mouse that chewed on my backpack. With the first daylight that got through the dense treetops I packed up my stuff and got back on the trail. It was only going downhill and on a few occassions, I could see the ocean again.
The jungle reaches almost to the shore, and once it opened I had the black cliffs of Cap Merchant straight in front of me. I walked out to the edge, stood there in the salty breeze, heard the thunder of the rolling waves and knew I have made it.
I crossed the island of Reunion.