Morning, Day 6
I woke up inspired. I've already been out of camp. I jogged down to the brook. It was exhilarating. While down there, I grabbed a berry breakfast. Along with tools, I need to consider some sort of case, a bag or sachet, to carry stuff I collect back to camp. Anyhow, I feel great this morning. The jog was uneventful. However, I did feel like I was being watched. I've seen no signs of human life around here, so it's a bit unsettling to feel as if there is someone else here.
What I did find odd today was the wildlife. I saw a flock of mallards, male and female. They are so pleasant to sit wand watch, such communicable animals. Just for kicks, I peeled some birch bark and tossed i in their direction. What a scramble, just to fuss around with it. Off in the distance a ways was a gaggle of Canada Geese. There may have been some snow geese mixed in, too. It was hard to tell at the distance. Either way, they were beautiful birds. I saw no newborns with either group of birds, so my assumption is that it's either early spring or sometime in the fall. It doesn't really feel like either. Oh, that interesting duck I'd seen a few times previously showed up. I'm starting to thing that I've heard about his species before. I can't quite put my finger on it, though. He came around while I was picking on the mallards. He seemed to be scoping me out. He'd watch for a while, then waddle in a few steps. If I saw him moving, he'd scuttle around and retreat almost nonchalantly. He reminded me of a child trying to sneak a cookie before dinner.
No dreams to speak of last night. That could be why I was so energized this morning. Anyway, I've been eyeing my lumber stash while I've been righting, considering how to use what I have to make life easier. It'll be a challenge, but I think I have a piece of slate that, with a little work, can be sharpened into a blade to use for an axe. If I can get it wedged tightly into a piece of pine, I should have a nice tool. A shovel would be nice, but I think it will be trickier. I've got one piece of slate that is pentagonal, but I'm not sure if I could fasten it for a shovel. I'm going to have to see what I can do. Another useful thing to have would be rope, or a rope substitute I won't need that right away, but after I have shelter, I'll be looking into that.
When I finish with tool building today, I'm going to see how I'm going to see how I am at trap building. I can't expect to have animals throwing themselves into my hands like the chipmunk did yesterday. And, with no weaponry besides my pocket knife, I'm going to have to be resourceful. I've got an idea or two for capturing small game, and for now, I need only catch what I'll eat in one meal. I'll work my way up in size, but I have no way to store anything. Anyhow, the day is no longer new, and I should get to work before it's time to reignite the fire.
Sunday, March 9, 2014
Day Five
Morning, Day 5
Again, I slept well. I'm getting comfortable here. I awoke with the feeling that I'll be here a while. Although, when it's time to go, I feel that it won't seem very long at all. Anyhow, I've made plans to collect material for the shelter today. If I don't protect myself from the elements, who knows how long I'll make it. I'm envisioning a lean-to about six feet by nine feet, standing no less than seven feet high. Being in the woods, I should have no problem finding sizable lumber. My first chore this morning will be to construct some sort of axe from the stone I collected yesterday.
Being here alone, it may be of use to document my dreams as well as my actions. They say that cabin fever can drive a man insane. I cannot afford to lose it out here by myself. Last night, I dreamt about this place. I'm more thoroughly convinced now that there is a mountain to the north, and that the river originates at the summit. In my dream, I traveled north from the brook I visited yesterday. The river widened. About a mile upstream, the river was no less than twenty feet across, and moving rapidly. The fish were plentiful, and the wildlife abundant. The duck was there. Oddly, it was the only one of its kind. I can't identify it, but it's not a common loon or mallard. This bird was brown, with few markings on his head, notably the black mohawk. He almost looked like a Canada Goose, without the extensive neck. The water was clear, the floor rocky. I'm certain of crustaceous life on the rocky bottom. Every so often, I'd get a whiff of salty breeze, as if I were near the ocean. But which one? Will my subconscious force (or enable?) me to smell it while awake? I bathed in the river. It was refreshing. I was strong, as if I'd dedicated my life to my physique. I had a sculpted chest, and abs like Michelangelo's David. When I finished bathing, I made my way back to camp, pulling limbs off of birch, pine, cedar, and oak. I was strong, confident, determined. When I returned, I erected my shelter rather quickly, and with tremendous ease. I used the oak for the corner posts, and the birch for the framing. I filled in the walls using the pine, and the cedar branches, I used for the roof. I'd worked some of the barks into a braided rope which I used to tie the branches together. I had some left over that I was able to hang a hammock with. Then the shelter was finished, I awoke. I believe that this plan, latched in my subconscious, will guide me in constructing my shelter in reality. Ideally, I will collect the lumber I need in one day, with preparation of the branches consuming most of the next. I fully anticipate this filling my waking hours for the next five to ten days.
Evening, Day 5
Whew! What an exhausting day. I wasn't sure where to go to find the needed lumber for a shelter. I started out on my usual route along the northeast path. As I approached the first bend in the path, I saw four ten foot tall oaks with a solid twelve inch core. These were identical to the oak support beams I saw in my dream. As I found my way past the oak quartet, I found some birch, perfect for the framework of my recently envisioned living quarters. I snapped as much of those trees as I could, using whatever brute force I had in me. I broke off ten to twenty foot portions of six birch trees. That was very satisfying. I looked around, almost expecting to see a multitude of pine branches, ready for my plucking. What I saw was merely a newly cleaned trail back to my main causeway. I spent the next hour or two dragging the birch logs back to camp. When I finished with that transport, I was noting my fortune that I was only a five minute walk away from camp. At this point, it's pretty near the middle of the afternoon. With a few hours of daylight left, I decided to start the campfire. I'm getting increasingly better at starting the fire with only the few pieces of wood. Good thing, considering that's all that I have available. Knowing that I only have an hour or two of solid daylight left, I head back out in search of more lumber. I'm about to walk by the mighty foursome, when I see a chipmunk run straight through. For whatever reason, I follow him. During my pursuit, I realize that he'd be the first meat I'd eaten since I got here. That made my decision easy. I considered my options, do I find a good size rock and give it a good crack on the head? Do I hunt it down and throw a well placed rock? What's the most guilt-free, painless way to kill my first meal of substance? Then, he does something incredible. He runs four feet up a pine tree, looks at me, and jumps. Straight towards my hands. Instinctively, I catch the little guy. Then the survival instinct settles in, and with one swift motion, I snapped his neck. Quick, painless, and is should keep the meat intact. I made a pocket in my shirt tails, and put him in for transport. It's at this point I realize that he ascended a pine tree. Using the only tool I had, I sawed off as many branches as I could carry. Not nearly enough to seal tin the size shelter I am hoping to build, but enough to convey the illusion of a successful day in the woods.
When I returned to camp, I dressed off the chipmunk who made the sacrifice to be my meal, which I handled very instinctively. I'm really starting to wonder who I am. I made the initial incision at his genitalia, slicing toward his neck. I carefully peeled the pelt off, preserving it as best I could. I can never know when this might come in handy. I used a nearby stick to skewer the chipmunk, after I gutted it. The heart, liver, kidneys, and eyeballs were consumed after each were stone grilled over my mighty campfire. I don't think the eyes should have been cooked. The organs were tasty, and filling. I'm eating the meat now. Kind of meager portions, even for a chipmunk. They claim everything tastes like chicken. I disagree, chipmunk tastes like a saltless pork. It's safe to say that chipmunks are not safe in these parts, because I will eat them again if need be. It has certainly been a long day, and successful, too. The pile of timber proves that. I think, though, that tomorrow, I need to do something about my tool situation. I'm thinking at least an axe and shovel, which I may be able to construct. Maybe it will come to me.
Again, I slept well. I'm getting comfortable here. I awoke with the feeling that I'll be here a while. Although, when it's time to go, I feel that it won't seem very long at all. Anyhow, I've made plans to collect material for the shelter today. If I don't protect myself from the elements, who knows how long I'll make it. I'm envisioning a lean-to about six feet by nine feet, standing no less than seven feet high. Being in the woods, I should have no problem finding sizable lumber. My first chore this morning will be to construct some sort of axe from the stone I collected yesterday.
Being here alone, it may be of use to document my dreams as well as my actions. They say that cabin fever can drive a man insane. I cannot afford to lose it out here by myself. Last night, I dreamt about this place. I'm more thoroughly convinced now that there is a mountain to the north, and that the river originates at the summit. In my dream, I traveled north from the brook I visited yesterday. The river widened. About a mile upstream, the river was no less than twenty feet across, and moving rapidly. The fish were plentiful, and the wildlife abundant. The duck was there. Oddly, it was the only one of its kind. I can't identify it, but it's not a common loon or mallard. This bird was brown, with few markings on his head, notably the black mohawk. He almost looked like a Canada Goose, without the extensive neck. The water was clear, the floor rocky. I'm certain of crustaceous life on the rocky bottom. Every so often, I'd get a whiff of salty breeze, as if I were near the ocean. But which one? Will my subconscious force (or enable?) me to smell it while awake? I bathed in the river. It was refreshing. I was strong, as if I'd dedicated my life to my physique. I had a sculpted chest, and abs like Michelangelo's David. When I finished bathing, I made my way back to camp, pulling limbs off of birch, pine, cedar, and oak. I was strong, confident, determined. When I returned, I erected my shelter rather quickly, and with tremendous ease. I used the oak for the corner posts, and the birch for the framing. I filled in the walls using the pine, and the cedar branches, I used for the roof. I'd worked some of the barks into a braided rope which I used to tie the branches together. I had some left over that I was able to hang a hammock with. Then the shelter was finished, I awoke. I believe that this plan, latched in my subconscious, will guide me in constructing my shelter in reality. Ideally, I will collect the lumber I need in one day, with preparation of the branches consuming most of the next. I fully anticipate this filling my waking hours for the next five to ten days.
Evening, Day 5
Whew! What an exhausting day. I wasn't sure where to go to find the needed lumber for a shelter. I started out on my usual route along the northeast path. As I approached the first bend in the path, I saw four ten foot tall oaks with a solid twelve inch core. These were identical to the oak support beams I saw in my dream. As I found my way past the oak quartet, I found some birch, perfect for the framework of my recently envisioned living quarters. I snapped as much of those trees as I could, using whatever brute force I had in me. I broke off ten to twenty foot portions of six birch trees. That was very satisfying. I looked around, almost expecting to see a multitude of pine branches, ready for my plucking. What I saw was merely a newly cleaned trail back to my main causeway. I spent the next hour or two dragging the birch logs back to camp. When I finished with that transport, I was noting my fortune that I was only a five minute walk away from camp. At this point, it's pretty near the middle of the afternoon. With a few hours of daylight left, I decided to start the campfire. I'm getting increasingly better at starting the fire with only the few pieces of wood. Good thing, considering that's all that I have available. Knowing that I only have an hour or two of solid daylight left, I head back out in search of more lumber. I'm about to walk by the mighty foursome, when I see a chipmunk run straight through. For whatever reason, I follow him. During my pursuit, I realize that he'd be the first meat I'd eaten since I got here. That made my decision easy. I considered my options, do I find a good size rock and give it a good crack on the head? Do I hunt it down and throw a well placed rock? What's the most guilt-free, painless way to kill my first meal of substance? Then, he does something incredible. He runs four feet up a pine tree, looks at me, and jumps. Straight towards my hands. Instinctively, I catch the little guy. Then the survival instinct settles in, and with one swift motion, I snapped his neck. Quick, painless, and is should keep the meat intact. I made a pocket in my shirt tails, and put him in for transport. It's at this point I realize that he ascended a pine tree. Using the only tool I had, I sawed off as many branches as I could carry. Not nearly enough to seal tin the size shelter I am hoping to build, but enough to convey the illusion of a successful day in the woods.
When I returned to camp, I dressed off the chipmunk who made the sacrifice to be my meal, which I handled very instinctively. I'm really starting to wonder who I am. I made the initial incision at his genitalia, slicing toward his neck. I carefully peeled the pelt off, preserving it as best I could. I can never know when this might come in handy. I used a nearby stick to skewer the chipmunk, after I gutted it. The heart, liver, kidneys, and eyeballs were consumed after each were stone grilled over my mighty campfire. I don't think the eyes should have been cooked. The organs were tasty, and filling. I'm eating the meat now. Kind of meager portions, even for a chipmunk. They claim everything tastes like chicken. I disagree, chipmunk tastes like a saltless pork. It's safe to say that chipmunks are not safe in these parts, because I will eat them again if need be. It has certainly been a long day, and successful, too. The pile of timber proves that. I think, though, that tomorrow, I need to do something about my tool situation. I'm thinking at least an axe and shovel, which I may be able to construct. Maybe it will come to me.
Friday, March 7, 2014
Day Four
I woke up here four days ago. I'm not sure where I am, but I'm comfortable. It's isolated here, lots of animals, no people. I don't remember how I got here, or where I was before I did. It's strange, almost like a fresh start. It doesn't feel like punishment, just isolation. The weather's been perfect. I spent the first day trying to remember where I was. Nothing came to me. I'm pretty sure I forgot to eat, not that I have any food - or shelter for that matter. It seems that all I have is a pocked knife - and, of course, this journal and pen. The pocket knife makes sense, guys carry them. But, I'm in the middle of nowhere, and I have a pen and journal. I considered the possibility that I was a writer. But then, I don't remember what my interests are, or anywhere I've ever been. I'm pretty sure I passed out the first day.
On the second day, I awoke confused. Still, I didn't know where, or who, I was. But, I knew that I needed to eat. I spotted a path in the clearing. I'm in the woods, maybe near a mountain. I hear a brook or stream nearby. The path is to the northeast of the clearing that I find myself in. I have no tools still, but I am confident enough to follow the sun. Anyway, the path led through the woods. I found some berry bushes - raspberries, I think. At this point, I'm certain that I'm not a horticulturist. I also found some mushrooms. When I get back to the clearing, I gathered wood and made camp. I figured that I should, at least, build a fire. To my surprise, I was able to start the fire with two sticks! The berries were great, the mushrooms - not so. But, it was food, and I needed some.
I woke yesterday not remembering when, or how, I fell asleep the night before. I remember worrying about the mushrooms. Yesterday, day three, I explored. I took the path for a while, after starting a campfire, for what seemed like a mile and a half. I didn't get too far. By the time I returned, I was drained. I don't feel itt, but I'm sure not right. How does a man not know where he is, not have any injuries, and not even know who he is? At this point, I'm feeling pretty useless. But, I want to get control of my situation, so I assemble a bed out of moss and leaves. Odd, how I feel so at ease with nature, almost habitual. Maybe that's who I am, but it doesn't feel right. After another meal of berries and various non-fungal plants, I retire in my new bed.
Clearly, I feel much better today. I can think straight. I can remember where I was yesterday. I can remember how I went to sleep last night. I've got big plans today. I'm going to build a shelter. It's apt to rain sometime. I want to be ready. I'm in the woods, so materials shouldn't be a problem. Big question - how long will I be here, and what weather do I need to prepare for? Whoa! That was weird! I swore I just heard someone else talking. I'm going to go check it out, maybe get some answers. I may nor need to build that shelter after all.
Evening of Day 4
I've been thinking today. Why do I have this journal? It seems rather out of place, considering my surroundings. When I heard the voices this morning, I thought I might be able to find some answers. I started after the voices, out on the path I hiked yesterday. There is some water. I'm pretty sure it comes from a mountain nearby. Where it empties, I don't know. It was pretty mellow at the point I found. I followed the path to the south. I think, for about two hours. When I found the brook, I stopped. When I got out there walking, I forgot about the voices I thought I heard. The brook was about four feet in breadth, and only inches deep. There was evidence that it had been much deeper at some point. I've got a feeling that the water is quite deep somewhere along the way. That'll be good if I'm here long. I'll need the protein source from whatever fish I can find. I spent some time, two or three hours, down at the water. It was nice. There was an abundantly large raspberry bush nearby, and I used that as a food source. I also at some fern. It was quite good, although not too filling. I brought some back with me, figured I'd try to grille it over the fire. While at the brook, I realized that I'd need something to hunt with. I found a newly broken oak branch that made for a good start of a spear. While taking in the incredible scenery, I peeled away the bark and formed the spear. It took more work than I'd thought it would to straighten. When I got to sharpening the tip, I realized that some precisely shaped stones would be useful to my survival in this forest. When I scoured the area, I found one rock that kind of looked like a pear. With some careful craftsmanship, I should be able to turn it into a spearhead. The chiseled end of the shaft that I have now will work for a bit. I found a few nice pieces of slate that should be useful. I'm thinking I can use some of the small ones for arrowheads - if I can figure out how to make a bow. I found some larger ones, eight to twelve inches across, that I can probably use to cook on. The really nice one I found was about eighteen inches wide by about thirty inches long. I hope to be able to use that as a work surface.
I returned back at camp with my hands full, and the realization that I hadn't started on shelter. And, it was nearly dark. I've decided that any work on shelter, or even the fire, would have to wait for morning. As I'm writing this, I'm noticing a duck taking flight. I think this is the same one I'd seen at the brook earlier in the day. In fact, I think he visited me the other day, as well. I'll have to take note next time I see him. As far as I can remember, he's the only wildlife I've actually seen. I've seen, and heard, evidence of other wildlife, but I can't say I've seen any others.
The solidarity is nice. It seems that most people would love the comforts of a community, or at least a companion. but, I rather enjoy the quiet. I don't remember who I was five days ago, but for now, I'm all by myself. Sure, I could love, and I could enjoy someone else's company. But, for now, in my position, I'm happy. I just hope that there isn't someone, somewhere missing me, and that anyone that cares about me knows where I am, and what I'm doing.
On the second day, I awoke confused. Still, I didn't know where, or who, I was. But, I knew that I needed to eat. I spotted a path in the clearing. I'm in the woods, maybe near a mountain. I hear a brook or stream nearby. The path is to the northeast of the clearing that I find myself in. I have no tools still, but I am confident enough to follow the sun. Anyway, the path led through the woods. I found some berry bushes - raspberries, I think. At this point, I'm certain that I'm not a horticulturist. I also found some mushrooms. When I get back to the clearing, I gathered wood and made camp. I figured that I should, at least, build a fire. To my surprise, I was able to start the fire with two sticks! The berries were great, the mushrooms - not so. But, it was food, and I needed some.
I woke yesterday not remembering when, or how, I fell asleep the night before. I remember worrying about the mushrooms. Yesterday, day three, I explored. I took the path for a while, after starting a campfire, for what seemed like a mile and a half. I didn't get too far. By the time I returned, I was drained. I don't feel itt, but I'm sure not right. How does a man not know where he is, not have any injuries, and not even know who he is? At this point, I'm feeling pretty useless. But, I want to get control of my situation, so I assemble a bed out of moss and leaves. Odd, how I feel so at ease with nature, almost habitual. Maybe that's who I am, but it doesn't feel right. After another meal of berries and various non-fungal plants, I retire in my new bed.
Clearly, I feel much better today. I can think straight. I can remember where I was yesterday. I can remember how I went to sleep last night. I've got big plans today. I'm going to build a shelter. It's apt to rain sometime. I want to be ready. I'm in the woods, so materials shouldn't be a problem. Big question - how long will I be here, and what weather do I need to prepare for? Whoa! That was weird! I swore I just heard someone else talking. I'm going to go check it out, maybe get some answers. I may nor need to build that shelter after all.
Evening of Day 4
I've been thinking today. Why do I have this journal? It seems rather out of place, considering my surroundings. When I heard the voices this morning, I thought I might be able to find some answers. I started after the voices, out on the path I hiked yesterday. There is some water. I'm pretty sure it comes from a mountain nearby. Where it empties, I don't know. It was pretty mellow at the point I found. I followed the path to the south. I think, for about two hours. When I found the brook, I stopped. When I got out there walking, I forgot about the voices I thought I heard. The brook was about four feet in breadth, and only inches deep. There was evidence that it had been much deeper at some point. I've got a feeling that the water is quite deep somewhere along the way. That'll be good if I'm here long. I'll need the protein source from whatever fish I can find. I spent some time, two or three hours, down at the water. It was nice. There was an abundantly large raspberry bush nearby, and I used that as a food source. I also at some fern. It was quite good, although not too filling. I brought some back with me, figured I'd try to grille it over the fire. While at the brook, I realized that I'd need something to hunt with. I found a newly broken oak branch that made for a good start of a spear. While taking in the incredible scenery, I peeled away the bark and formed the spear. It took more work than I'd thought it would to straighten. When I got to sharpening the tip, I realized that some precisely shaped stones would be useful to my survival in this forest. When I scoured the area, I found one rock that kind of looked like a pear. With some careful craftsmanship, I should be able to turn it into a spearhead. The chiseled end of the shaft that I have now will work for a bit. I found a few nice pieces of slate that should be useful. I'm thinking I can use some of the small ones for arrowheads - if I can figure out how to make a bow. I found some larger ones, eight to twelve inches across, that I can probably use to cook on. The really nice one I found was about eighteen inches wide by about thirty inches long. I hope to be able to use that as a work surface.
I returned back at camp with my hands full, and the realization that I hadn't started on shelter. And, it was nearly dark. I've decided that any work on shelter, or even the fire, would have to wait for morning. As I'm writing this, I'm noticing a duck taking flight. I think this is the same one I'd seen at the brook earlier in the day. In fact, I think he visited me the other day, as well. I'll have to take note next time I see him. As far as I can remember, he's the only wildlife I've actually seen. I've seen, and heard, evidence of other wildlife, but I can't say I've seen any others.
The solidarity is nice. It seems that most people would love the comforts of a community, or at least a companion. but, I rather enjoy the quiet. I don't remember who I was five days ago, but for now, I'm all by myself. Sure, I could love, and I could enjoy someone else's company. But, for now, in my position, I'm happy. I just hope that there isn't someone, somewhere missing me, and that anyone that cares about me knows where I am, and what I'm doing.
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