When a storm approaches, most people head in to shelter. I’ve been known to head out in the storm. After all, how will you know what you can accomplish in a storm without the storm? For the record, I don’t advocate seeking danger for danger’s sake, however, I do believe in taking calculated risks. When I train with Special Operations Teams, we generally try to train out of our comfort zones to see how we operate out of our comfort zones. Take away food, sleep, water, time etc. and stress levels rise quickly. You’ll learn quite a bit about yourself, while others will learn a lot about you, and you, in turn, will learn a lot about them. But what happens when you push the envelope too far, and others have to suffer for your poor choices? My oldest daughter Carley has a few stories to tell about her dear old Daddy’s choices…
So there I was… Record low temps for Butts County Georgia. It was late deer season and bringing home a trophy seemed more important than the safety of the others with me apparently. Hunters tend to get “tunnel vision” and are always happiest chasing a tail they can’t quite catch. I am no exception. The way I see it, when the going gets tough outside, my chances for success go up. The other weekend warriors head in, and I head out. With less “pressure” from the presence of humans, the game relaxes and moves about, while I move in for the kill. Right place, right time equals tenderloin biscuits by the fire. This is a very rewarding experience for those that have been there. However, tenderloin biscuits were not in order this trip. Keeping my daughter from freezing to death was.
A good temperature gauge in the woods is a Bic lighter. The freezing point of butane is -1 degree Centigrade or 30.2 degrees Fahrenheit. For those that don’t enjoy science, here’s what that means in short order. If your Bic lighter won’t light, (and it’s full of fuel you silly rabbit) it’s below freezing. The lighter contains butane in a liquid state. When you press the switch, the liquid that was under pressure, escapes in gas form through the nozzle. Add the spark, and you have a flame. When the temperature is below freezing though, no flame will occur. You will hear the hissing of the gas escaping, along with your patience. A little trick is to place the lighter someplace on your body that is warm, for minutes that seem like hours, give it a shake (to increase the pressure), and pray to the fire gods. When there is still no flame, you can be assured your buddies that wear shorts in the winter will be cold too. Take for example, my buddy Kevin. He had on shorts, pants and extra everything that he brought was layered on, to ensure his successful trip to the other side in his Egyptian mummy bag…
Carley and Kevin weren’t the only ones there that night. My other friend Brian was there as well. He too was stuffed in his bag, but his bag was shaking violently in a desperate attempt to create heat energy. As I surveyed the camp, I determined it was time to take action. The fire had gone out and we needed fire yesterday AND today! My first course of action was to place Carley inside of my military modular sleep system (MMS). She was about 9 at the time. Mind you, she was already in an arctic sleeping bag good for subzero temps. It was at this time I wondered what the exact subzero temp it was good for. I covered her up and that’s when I began to realize just how cold it really was. I had moved way past the pain of your hands freezing and the hippy-hippy shakes. All I could notice was that I seemingly couldn’t move very well and it wasn’t even that cold anymore…
Hypothermia. We all know what that means. I was in trouble, and so were the others. It’s hard to concentrate and poor choices typically follow. This is exactly why I preach good habits in class so strongly. I firmly believe that because of good habits that day, we all lived to tell the tale. I owe those good habits to my grandfather David Levi Andrews. Even though he had passed when I was 16, he was still there to guide me on his old tree farm that night. I spent a good portion of my life there, working and hunting on the farm. I learned some extremely valuable lessons down there as well. Old Frogmen from WWII have a unique proficiency in cussing, and violence does solve problems as they say and do. I literally got my ass whooped into shape. Men like this just throw you in the fire. You don’t ask questions. Your job is to listen and learn and to only speak when spoken to, sometimes. The rest of the time you were supposed to be outta sight, outta mind. These rules were not spoken, they were learned.
Looking back, I thank God for this kind of upbringing. “Spare the rod, spoil the child.” I see how this works now that I’m a father. “Oh, you’re tired of sawing?... Take a break and grab an axe D@%%!T!!!” he would say quite often amongst other pearls thrown before swine like, “…Oh, you’re cold?... Work on that kindling pile after you stack firewood… BOY!!! I bet you’re hungry too huh?!?! Well round here we WORK up appetites son… I don’t see how y’all are gonna make it in this world… D@^^ kids these days! Don’t know the value in anything… SPOILED!!! UNGRATEFUL!!! WHINNING little………….” Which leads to “You want something to cry about?!?!” Of course men like this also know that tearing you down is followed by bringing you back up. Glorious portions of hoop cheese, Vienna sausages, saltines, mustard and Swiss Cake Rolls await a finished job. If you were really good, a stick of Wrigley’s spearmint gum would be offered. You were never told you did “good”, you just knew without a doubt when you hadn’t…
I knew I hadn’t “done good” bringing people I loved with me on this trip. The Pop I’d remembered, reminded me of this as I struggled to get my fire lay together. Because of him, I had learned how to make fire with less than ideal resources, environments and circumstances. Earlier that day, I had bucked the log, stacked and covered the split firewood with my Vietnam poncho, processed my kindling, made my fire feathers and as we scouted I had gathered a vacant bird’s nest, some fatwood and pine pitch. I also had a mag- bar and a larger match -stick with me as well. Construction of the fire was to take seconds, rather than minutes, but when you can’t control your hands and fingers, minutes seem like hours and your less-than-proficient mind doesn’t help either. I pulled out all the tricks I had that day including the Chapstick. I didn’t have time to warm up a Bic lighter. I went straight for it with the back of a saw blade to the ferro rod. Or, at least, my mind had. My clumsy movements proved otherwise…
There exists a moment, when you feel hope leave and the choice to dwell on the negative aspects creep up. Be it however brief a moment, your choice to let those feelings take over will inevitably lead to your doom. I seemingly could not let that very real thought take hold. I tried again and again, to no avail. I had hurriedly made piss-poor decisions during the construction, having too much faith in my most excellent resources. Did I mention I couldn’t control my Cabbage Patch Doll Hands?? Making shavings come of the mag-bar was like climbing Everest while striking the match stick was like climbing K-2. My hands were trembling and I had absolutely no control or feeling in my fingers. I would continue failing, over and over again. I would finally get a good strike, but promptly smother it with my glove. I dropped the shavings all over the place, more like scattered them in the wind with my violent shakes. I looked at my lay and justified its un-picture worthy construction to, “Fire loves climbing and chaos” theory. Fail.
The fire triangle requires three things- heat (ignition), fuel (wood) and oxygen (air). In other words fire’s gotta breathe between bites in order to stay alive. I had two out of three but, I needed three out of three to win at this game. I paused for a bit, to rethink my approach, and eventually my efforts were good enough to get the fire lit. I think all four of us let out the air we held onto out at the same time. Before this, not a word was uttered, only reassuring silence that was deafening. I knew to get a fire going, I needed softwoods like pine and cedar, tinder, and lots of kindling. Fire extenders were desperately needed as well. I knew once I got enough heat from the coals, I could maintain that fire with hardwoods like hickory and oak. I had all of that thanks to Pop. Instant Massive Dopamine Hit!!! I was quickly brought down again when my daughter’s first words were instructions to put on my clothes. In my defense, I had on two socks, one moccasin and my gloves, draped with my grandfather’s military wool blanket over one shoulder. Thank God I had made the habit of sleeping in my underwear too… Hey, it’s actually warmer- do the research.
What FUELS my FIRE is what follows. There exists another moment, when you’ve PREVAILED, and you feel that boost to your confidence and you notice it overflow into others. When you see the smiles and hear the light laughter, this is when you literally feel and experience true joy and fulfillment with others. Of course, nature is all about balance and promptly reminds you of that with a stinging pain in your extremities as you warm up. As your faculties recover, you are then reminded of how big of an imbecile you are. Pretty soon the jokes start, but I remind myself that I have standards- real superheroes don’t wear spandex. Bruce Willis got caught without his shoes in Die Hard. I, at least, had one shoe. Ok. So I mighta sorta forgot to put my clothes in the bag with me and if I had donned them, I shoulda coulda woulda gone into shock for sure, if I put them on. My fire retardant wool cape was well suited for the task, had I been able to put it on all the way, and plastic spandex uniforms melt into your skin with exposure to fire. I was a real superhero who just got caught without his pants on… Missing a shoe too… But I had BOTH gloves on though, no spandex and a wool cape- that’s gotta count for something when you add in the single moccasin…
This was back in the day where there weren’t cell phone towers all over the place. Cell phone service service was sketchy, to say the least. I had no less than a voice mail box full of “How stupid can you be???” messages waiting for me. Apparently I was the village idiot who cared about nobody and was, in fact, in the running for the “worst father ever” award. Strangely, I was unbothered by the messages later. My grandfather was proud of me. That was all that mattered then. Carley, Kevin, Brian and I all felt empowered as a result. It wasn’t long before we were all laughing about it, snuggled up in our sleeping bags, as close to the fire as possible. Carley makes an excellent camp cook to boot. I kill ‘em, she cooks ‘em. (I firmly believe this is why she pursued Culinary Arts in college. Proud Beaming Father Smile.) We had a good breakfast and after filling our bellies, decided to break camp and go hunting late. When we hit a clearing on the power lines, the messages poured in and we were still listening to them on our way home on the highway, and I-75 is a lonnnnng highway. I think we considered just staying away for a bit. After all, we could make fire. Surely, THEY wouldn’t understand. THEY DIDN’T AND THEY STILL DON’T…
So in conclusion, hit the woods with the ones you love. Be responsible. Practice good habits. Have a “next fire” and “opossum mentality.” Remember that 2 is 1 and 1 is none. Do a lot with a little. Improvise, adapt and overcome. Seek knowledge and earn the skill. Remember the “Golden Rule”. Share your victories and failures. Plan for the worst. Hope for the best. When you fail, try, try again. Don’t ever give up. Stay positive. Pre-plan your trips. Dress for the weather. Without defeat, we can’t appreciate victory. Push yourself and take calculated risks. Let someone know where you’re going. Get out of your comfort zone. Get familiar with your first aid kit. Stay humble. Stop, Think, Observe and Plan. If you don’t get help from us, remember us when you get help somewhere. Build your confidence. Be grateful. Enjoy the moment. Survive and thrive. Live, Laugh and Love. Read more, write more. Explore. Be prepared. FUEL the FIRE. Don’t “rough it, smooth it!” BUSHCRAFT. FIELDCRAFT. SARCRAFT. PREVAIL.
“Next to knowing how to dress well, fire is one of the most important bush skills there are, because it is one of the few means available to make up most great deficiencies.”
-Mors Kochanski
