Good news, forecast now has no rain and temps up to low 60's !

Firestarting still will be tough given the recent rains on all the tinder and fuel sources, but should be much more pleasant than doing it in the rain. Mud will be a constant companion however.

I expect more awareness sessions, blindfold exercises, and various bushcraft stuff. Probably build a debris hut. A more complete report when I get back.

You have anything comparable scheduled?

Nothing that spectacular but a 5 night in the rental home on Tahoe lake may provide some opportunities to test my snow/cold surviving skills/gear.

Not sure how much snow they've got so far, but I plan to build a larger igloo than I did last time and try to spend some time inside with my gear.

Where are you guys doing this in the bay or in the mountains?

Napa hills near Angwin.

I'd love to join you there, the program you're attending seems very interesting. Not to mention you get a lot of quality time outdoors.

Keep on reporting, Dweste, I love to read that.

Just back. Tired, minor piles of clothes that need the sweat and mud cleaned from them, minor aches, no pains, and plenty to think about.

It did rain much of Sunday after all. More after my recovery is further along!

Stupid tired still on Monday. Returned to my buddy Richard's to shake water off, wash mud off, and hang up to dry on the canoe in his garage, tent gear. I think Richard said he used a leaf blower to also aid in the drying process.

The weekend left me feeling like my mind is full to overflowing with experiences, concepts, and the new ideas they are stimulating. It is like I am stuffed after eating too much and do not want to move or do much until some digesting time goes by.

Lots of primitive skill lectures and hands-on training but unified by a coherent message of concern that we learn better to match our behavior to the sustainable needs of the planet and all peoples. Read the Tom Brown. Jr. books for detail on this [I am pretty sure they are for sale on Amazon].

After I have time to "unpack" the experience a bit more, I will share more. Be advised we have been asked, and I will honor, the request that specific instructional and conceptual language developed, demonstration examples used, and personal experiences related by, instructors be left for you to discover when you take the course.

I am not going to share details of the Friday through Sunday agenda because it is likely to vary from course to course and because surrendering control to the unknown is probably part of the learning available. I will say the days are very long and very full of lectures, demonstrations, and hands-on experiences.

My take was that the instructors are very careful how and what they communicate. Eager, curious, and energetic learning was rewarded, but you should try to be fully present and participating in your own learning. Detecting hints and carefully listening to suggestions seemed important to me.

Adjustments for physical condition and outdoor skill background seemed to happen easily and any challenges in that regard seemed to be welcomed as an opportunity for the instructors to stretch their creativity. I felt a lot of respect, understanding, and compassion being exercised.

The Rule of Threes and the familiar survival priorities of shelter, water, fire, and food were part of the teaching. Skills and knowledge that you would expect to secure shelter, water, fire, and food were part of the instruction.

I am still thinking about what was offered and what I took away from the course. Right now I suspect that the most valuable experiences were challenges to my "normal" expectations of myself and the world around me.

The Ugly Little Fire

All I had to do was gather wood, create a tepee-style fire layout, breathe a coal into flame in a tinder bundle, and use the flaming tinder to light the fire. I had seen examples of already laid out tepee fires, and an explanatory diagram.

I found a nearly ideal source of wood: a large fallen madrone. Much of it was up off the ground and therefor dry despite the recent rains. Its parts included everything from the thinnest twigs up to wrist thick wood.

My first step was to gather a double handful of the thinnest twigs with which to form the innermost tepee. I wanted twigs at least 8 inches long but they kept breaking into 3- or 4- inch long pieces. How was I going to have enough room to insert the hopefully-flaming tinder bundle under such a tiny “tepee”?

I kept going and harvested thin chopstick-size twigs, then pencil-size twigs, and finally thumb-sized twigs as the next three layers for my tepee. Going back to the shallow fire “pit” with my treasures, I found others hard at work. Their tepees looked great.

My thinnest twigs would not create a very big tepee no matter what I tried. Finally I just piled then up and tried to massage the pile into sort of a cup on its side. It did not look good.

The rest of the layers made a respectable-looking tepee. But I kept looking inside at the ugly, massaged pile of the thinnest stuff.

To put off thinking about what was going to happen if and when I tried to start my fire, I returned to my wood source and found a little more stuff to add on as a “door”, after the fire was lit and burning, over the gap into which the tinder bundle would be thrust.

When I got back I saw a couple of instructors helping some kids build great looking tepees. I also realized that out of politeness to the person nearest to me, I had not placed my “doorway” upwind to let the wind carry the starter flames into the tepee wood. And my fire layout still looked ugly and not at all what it was supposed to be.

I was pretty sure it would not work and I did not want to even try to get it going. An instructor saw my unhappiness and hesitation, and listened to my story. She told me I had to find belief and confidence that my fire would work; she said it looked fine to her. I told her I had to take a brief walk to see if I could find what I needed inside myself.

This is silly, I though to myself. Big deal if the fire does not work. Just give it a shot and whatever happens, happens. It's just a class. Don't be a wuss.

So I started trying to figure out why was I upset and reluctant to just try my best and not worry about the outcome. [Okay, now this may get a bit weird for you.] I realized that I was thinking about the wood. The course encouraged me to consider everything that had gone into making the wood: the soil and water and the years of sunlight. The classes suggested I think about what harvesting wood meant to the forest: removal of nutrients that insects and fungi and other plants would be using in the future. The idea was that respectful use of wood was fine, but wasting the wood dishonored the user and insulted the forest [my words not those of the course].

So, I apparently did not want to let the wood down by failing to make a successful fire. Yeah, having those thoughts surprised me, too. So I emulated sort-of what I had heard the instructors do, I silently asked for help to make a fire that burned and burned well so that its harvest was honorable. I was not ready to ask a Creator, or God, so I asked the wood. itself as the least creepy thing. It was still creepy and uncomfortable, but somehow I convinced myself that I now had an ally.

I got a tinder bundle, shaped it into a cup, and secured a small coal. I walked slowly back to the ugly little fire, breathing more and more life into the tinder. I knelt down. breathed the tinder into flame, and put the flaming bundle onto the messed up pile of thinnest twigs.

It was a struggle. I had to massage my wood around to get it downwind where the little flame could get to it. I had to keep breathing into the base of the baby fire to get it the extra oxygen it need for life. The flame died out several times but had created enough small coals that flame easily sprang up when I blew on them.

I fed in the stuff I had gathered for a “door” and just massaged wood around to close the “doorway.” My tepee began to look like a haystack. I was blowing, massaging, poking sticks in here and there, and just generally going for it.

And then the slightly larger wood started to ignite here and there. The flame had enough downwind fuel to start to take off. Flames got taller and began licking out the top.

It was not the quick, put-the-flaming-tinder-in-and-stand-back fire I had wanted. It never was pretty. But it burned.

I looked around. To my surprise several of the picture perfect fires had not started and people were getting their second tinder bundles to try again. Instructors were helping some start all over. How about that?

One of my neighbor asked me to help her get some more wood! Several instructors and others in the course congratulated me on a good job!

I remembered something one of the instructors had said, sometimes fires start for people when it makes no sense, as if they had help somehow. Maybe that's what happened for me, I do not know. But I silently thanked the wood.

Nice job on the fire. I think you learned as I did that pre-building a textbook-perfect tepee is conterproductive, especially for the beginner.

Gather your wood and sort it into piles by size (diameter). Have your smallest twigs ready in a random pile. Get your tinder flaming, lift the pile and tuck it under there. Now start adding the next size larger sticks, one or two at a time in a random criss-cross pattern. Keep working your way up in size, fast enough that the underlying wood doesn't burn out before the larger wood catches, slow enough that you don't crush and smother the fire.

If the fire starts to get smaller instead of bigger, go back to adding smaller wood. As my #2 son stated it: "When the fire is small, add small sticks. When the fire is big, add big sticks."

Thanks. I usually build what I was told are hunter fires: start with two fairly big sticks a few inches apart and build your fire in between them bit by bit, much as you suggest. The preset tepee thing was new.

Each morning those who rose early enough in response to the “drum” would be given the opportunity to wander into the forest to find a “sit spot.” There were specific suggestions about how to find, and recognize you found, your sit spot. There were specific suggestions about how to use your time at your sit spot.

Saturday morning I was surprised to experience recognizing my sit spot. I had wandered up a hill into the forest with a cup of hot tea. I followed my impulse to pour a little tea on the ground as sort of an offering; it felt a little silly.

Then I had the dilemma of what to do with the empty cup. I did not want to see anything manmade, so I put the cup behind me. Then I wondered if putting an empty cup in my sit spot was somehow bad form or insulting.

As soon as the question formed in my mind, I had the strong sense of getting an answer in the form of an inaudible but definite chuckle – something or someone was amused. Did I think because the tea was gone that the cup was empty? Did I think I controlled things so much that I created a place where there was nothing? No, the cup was as full of what is with and without tea.

Then I noticed a patch of small mushrooms. I have been learning that mushrooms are like the flowers of a much larger underground plant body that links all the mushrooms. I understood a suggestion to consider whether people, including me, were like mushrooms in that regard – all linked by something unseen.

When asked, I shared this with the group Saturday morning.

Sunday morning I found myself going to a different spot, again poured out a little tea and waited. I did not expect anything. I was just enjoying the cool, quiet morning. I was again drawn to look at all the mushrooms, I know they are part of the re-cycle squad cleaning up the dead plant material and helping turn it into soil so new life can grow.

I was very tired after long days on Friday and Saturday. I had been given a lot to think about in the various course activities. My life had been challenging of late. I write all this to delay and maybe explain somewhat.

Again I was surprised by two very strong, clear, and absolutely confident thoughts that did not seem to be mine. The first was, “Death is okay.” The second was, “Sitting any longer would be greedy.”

A bit shaken, and questioning my mental health, I got up, retrieved my cup, and went down to join everyone at the morning fire.

When asked Sunday morning, I chose to not share my second day's sit spot experience with the group.

I share this now in the interests of being honest about my experience, despite my concern that this all is strange, unbelievable, and calls my mind into question. All I can say is that it happened.

Be kind with your thoughts, or not!

Blindfold Through the Woods

I have positional vertigo and expect to lose my sense of balance and to fall once in a while. I minimize this by trying to keep my head steady, looking at a horizon, and watching where I put my feet. None of this works when walking blindfold through the woods.

Walking blindfold with your hand on someone's shoulder gives you lots of clues. Walking blindfold along a string gives you a route to follow but fewer clues. Walking blindfold on your own trying to get to a distant, intermittent sound offers a direction once in a while and no other clues.

I have now done each of these things twice. Once in a prior class and once as part of the PS1 class. I have technically succeeded but have a long way to go to feel comfortable doing these things.

Walking blindfold behind someone is relatively easy. I just listen and trust. Not too bad.

Walking blindfold along a string is tougher. I have fallen at least once each time. My feet slip on something, I cannot see to safely recover, and so sometimes I fall. Nothing too bad, no injuries, but not how I want to do it. Not how I think I am supposed to do it.

Walking blindfold toward a distant, intermittent sound is very challenging. I have gotten thoroughly turned around every time. Last time I was able to detect my direction errors more quickly and correct them, so I finished the exercise and got to the goal. I have fallen, or at least slipped down on my rear, each time. I think I am getting better at detecting obstacles, taking the time to understand the obstacles I encounter, and making more effective choices about going around, under, or through them.

But I have not been calm or confident during any of these exercises. My mind is concerned about falling and taking too much time.

As a result, I probably am trying too hard and going too fast. Too fast into trouble instead of around it. Too fast to always keep my feet.

Of course, they did not teach us how to walk through the woods until the day after these exercises!

Next time I will know how to walk more effectively, though it seems like it will be much slower. I cannot wait to see how it affects my experience of the blindfold exercises. I wonder if I can get through without falling?

My biggest hope is that I can calm down and enjoy letting the experience unfold. I would like to let go of my sense that I am fighting the forest.

A Quiet, Confident Walk Through The Wild

My hurried sidewalk pace does not work in the woods. It is noisy and does not cope with obstacles well. As a result, I am often feeling out of place.

In addition, because of positional vertigo I can lose my sense of balance on uneven ground fairly easily. I occasionally lurch even walking on level ground as if I encountered an obstacle. Growing up I just figured I was a klutz and it was a bit of relief to get the medical diagnosis in my early thirties. Again this adds to my sense of discomfort with walking through the woods.

I am beginning to learn a different way to walk that is better suited to the wild. Actually, I am beginning to learn about several better ways to go through the woods. Some of them promise the ability to get much closer to wildlife.

However, I have learned that I need to increase my overall fitness and strength, and particularly my balance, to be able to effectively use most of these new ways. For now I must make do by taking much smaller steps and going much slower.

One of the great advantages of one these new ways is that it allows you to walk without looking constantly down to see where your feet are going next. Instead, you learn how to place your feet so that during placement you get feedback on what is under your feet before committing to the step.

This means you can continue to look around you while walking. It also means that if you are blindfold or in the dark, you can step quietly and confidently!

This is quite different from my usual way of going along and will take practice. But the goal of a quiet, confident walk through the wild is very powerful.

Now if my thighs would stop aching!

Also experienced:

good to great food
primitive cooking styles
edible plants with samples to eat
debris hut building
harvesting water from dew with bandanas
grass-sand-charcoal-sand-grass filter for dew water
spoon and bowl burning
building and using a bow-drill fire starting set
cordage making
survey of cordage plants
stalking, including movement, scent, and appearance
camoflague
hiding in plain sight
how to see
how to hear
how to smell
how to feel
tasting
barefoot in the cold and damp
choosing awareness
staying up past my bedtime

Wow, that is really something! Thank you for sharing.

I have my own personal philosphy on the subject of falling - it may not be appropriate for you, so use or discard with caution: Falling is not failure. Falling is fun and part of the process of challenging your balance. Challenging your balance is good for you in a whole lot of ways. Learning to fall with grace - how to meet the ground without hurting yourself, and without the assumption that "this is going to hurt" makes skiing, dancing and playing so much more fun.

Actually, learning proper falling technique is in itself a perfectly good reason to attend some martial arts training. Falling on flat ground is not dangerous, at least should not be.

But then again, I'm a skier. Can't do skiing without falling. At least not FUN skiing...

(Hey, dweste, just keep posting. This is grand stuff. Will add comments later. dougwa_)

My next organized skill adventure will be 1-9-10; the disorganized ones happen all the time!

I am working on a new habit: look up!

I read this as win-loss-tie, and thought, "wow, he should be doing better than that!". Good luck and have fun, and glad you're still in the running for a bowl game.

Good one!

I'm trying to get used to 2010.

Pope Valley Dream

Friday night I was too tired to dream, but Saturday night I had a doozy.

Over the valley lay a great dark cat.

My impression was it was black but it was just vast and dark, and as I think about it maybe it could be any color it wanted, or none at all.

It was so powerful in my prejudice I thought of it as male, but now I realize it could have been any sex or no sex at all.

I could not really see how what it lay on, or if it really was on anything and didn't just sort of penetrate the hills and trees without needing their support in any way.

I never saw its eyes but somehow got the impression they were green, glowing when they wanted to be. And could be red or any color if that served some purpose.

The cat was not there because of any of us humans and barely noticed us most of the time. Why it was there I do not know and felt I never would know and that it was better for me to not know.

But the cat knew without thought everything about every creature in the valley, where they were and what they were doing and more. I got the idea that we could annoy it and find ourselves a momentary plaything, but that it would take us doing something monumentally right or wrong. And no, I couldn't even think of anything that would fill that bill.

My sense was that it could do just about anything for us or to us, but it was not there for that. It had other business, or maybe no business at all that we would recognize.

It had no particular feelings for us, not favorable or unfavorable. It saw us as part of what is and that was not remarkable. Its attention was on something so far beyond that we could not even have a frame of reference.

It was other and beyond us. I got the impression that it was unusual for me to even imagine its presence, much less detect it even in dream. I think it might have been a little amused.

At the time I was in awe and a little scared. Something tells me I was right to be both.