Dirty Little Secrets(106)

“The diet the forest can provide is actually really healthy,” I taught as we stopped and picked up pine cones. “Like the nuts here. They’re full of good fats and proteins, and we can use the cones themselves as fuel for our fire tonight. They make a great fire starter. They burn hot and fast, though, so we can’t use them all night. But a couple of dry cones make a great base for any campfire.”

“It seems like a lot, but also a bit boring,” Robin said as we kept going. I tossed my pine cone aside, knowing there were plenty more as we went along. “This doesn’t seem like it would be very interesting after a while.”

“It can be, but to really get the variety we’d need to start to trap and catch animals too,” I answered. “Once we hit the lake, I’m going to make sure to do some fishing, or see if there are any freshwater mussels.

The walk continued, leaving the small grove and making our way down another rocky patch where Robin used her walking stick. The sun was low in the horizon, and I looked around. “All right, I’d prefer to get to that next crop of trees if we can,” I said, pointing toward an area about a mile away. “The trees will provide better cover than this open ground. We don’t want to be in the wind if we can help it.”

“Then we better pick up the pace,” Robin said, tightening her grip on her walking stick. “It’s just a mile, I can make it.” She surprised me with her determination.

I watched her carefully, but she looked more energized than before, so I led the way, picking up the pace, until the two of us practically gobbled up the mile distance, taking less than thirteen minutes, which is pretty good even for soldiers over open terrain. The ground allowed us to lengthen our stride until the trees approached. I stopped on the edge of the trees, looking around.

“Okay, maybe another fifty meters, but not all the way in. We need to find a relatively clear space. I don’t want to start a forest fire.” I wanted to get deep enough into the trees that any wind that picked up during the night or any snow would be blunted by the overhead branches, but not so deep that I thought we would be disoriented in the morning.

“Yeah, that would be bad,” Robin said, following me in. I quickly found what we wanted, two trees that were about six feet apart, with an open space in front of them. Setting my pack down, I took out the ponchos and cord, making a quick lean-to that stretched back almost eight feet, and was about four feet high. Running cord on the sides, we created sides to the lean-to by leaning fallen branches and other materials, creating wind breaks on three sides. While I finished the lean-to, Robin went around gathering fallen wood, trying to limit it to dry branches and wood that wouldn’t pop and explode. The dim light inside the woods made it difficult, and I heard her stumble twice on her way back to the camp site.

“I was getting worried” I said, when she returned with her double armful. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just got a bit turned around,” Robin replied, laying the wood down. “Now, I hope you’re going to teach this Apache how to make a fire.”

“I will, but I’m not going to be rubbing sticks together,” I said with a chuckle, reaching into my pocket. There is a time for jokes, and there is a time for getting stuff done. Maybe another time I’d teach her how to make a fire without matches. “One of the things that comes in all of those ration packs, besides toilet paper, which you should really hang onto, is a pack of matches.”

While she was gone, I had cleared an area and scraped out a shallow depression in the forest earth using a small gardening trowel, making a fire pit. With Robin’s wood, I carefully laid dry leaves and pine needles in the center, along with a very dry pine cone that kind of acted like the center pole of a circus tent. Making a small mound, I took about half of the match book and put it inside the pile. It was overkill, but I wasn’t going to take any chances. Taking one match, I started the fire, carefully feeding it small twigs until we had a good flame.

“The thing that a lot of people screw up,” I explained, feeding the flames, “is that we rush too much. The use of chemical fire starters and charcoal makes it easy, really. At that point it’s hard not to start a fire, although I’ve seen plenty of people who can even screw that up. With natural materials, we have to go slowly, and give the fuel plenty of air so it can burn. It’s why a lot of people like to blow on the fire, although you can easily blow too hard and blow it out. Eventually, we start adding larger pieces of wood.”

It took me close to fifteen minutes, but by the end, we had a cheery campfire ready, with a large stock of wood laid up nearby. “If you can, spread out the sleeping bags and pads,” I asked as I brushed off my knees. “I’ll go get more wood. We shouldn’t need it, but if we hear any animals, a larger fire will keep them away.”