Members experiences with their winter Camps
Jean Heinbach
Winter Camp. 2004
Thought it might be interesting to our members to hear about one woman’s winter camp experience. I live far from other members, so decided to go for it on my own. Here’s how it went direct from my journal.
Here it is, another moon—popping trees, maybe.I finally packed my outfit and headed out for some time away from the main camp. Ronzo snowshoed out with me to show some shortcuts he knows back to where I wanted to look for a camp site. He couldn’t stay out tho, as someone needed to tend our main winter camp and feed the stock and keep the fires burning. So, it’s just me on my lonesome, sipping tea and simmering a pot of beans, corn, and wild rice with powdered stinging nettles. [Have to have my greens!]. Want to write the events of the day as I relax and it is fresh.
Got off in good order in the morning. I picked now to make my sojourn as there is no snow in the trees and hence, no dripping. This can be a major problem in this part of the country. Also, we had a mid winter thaw to settle the snowpack and it has been cold two nights so the snow is great for snowshoeing. The cold also means snow instead of rain, should the clouds lower. Also there is a good moon so some light at nite. As good as it gets for a winter camp in North Idaho.
Snowshoed two miles and found a perfect camp under a big fir tree with bare ground underneath. Better than I expected. I had planned to go to a small cove on Sleight Mountain a half mile further on, but this was too nice to pass up. After dropping my pack, Ronzo and I Snowshoed on to the cove, to check it out, as it was still early in the day. Its so pretty up there, but no big firs there without snow, so I made a good camp choice. There is a creek flowing 30’ from camp and a lot of dead lower limbs from this grandmother fir for my fire. There are more dead alders along the creek for wood too.
After we returned to my campsite, Ronzo bid farewell, and returned to the main camp. I spent the remainder of the day, setting a nice camp. First, I cut a number of fir boughs for my bed and to scatter on the ground where I would sit and walk, and then I spent lots of time making fire wood. Brewed some tea and ate some jerky after getting together a small wood pile, as I felt in need of a recharge. Then it was back to putting up wood. Coyotes serenaded and ravens checked out the scene. Lots of moose and elk sign and even some deer. I would have thought the deer would be out of here by now. Too dark to write more now.
Since I am out on my own, I will give some account of my gear……
CLOTHES: 1 cotton shirt, 1 wool shirt, 1 wool serape, leather skirt, leather long leggings, winter mocs with blanket liners, 3 pair woolsocks, summer mocs[for in bed], leather gloves, blanket mittens, blanket capote, and wool Canadian cap.
FOOD: Buffalo meat, buffalo jerky, dried chokecherry patties, dried wild apples, handful each dried beans, corn, wild rice, maple sugar, brick tea, corn meal mixed with buff fat for cornballs, salt, pepper, nutmeg, hot peppers and powder dried stinging nettles.
BED: 1 brain tanned buffalo robe, 1 light 4 point wool blanket, small canvas tarp about 5 ’by
6'.
COOK GEAR: 1 small brass billy pot, 1 tin cup, small carved stirring stick, rough carved eating spoon, wood noggin bowl, rawhide bags for dry food, bladder and rawhide bags for meat, and a copper
canteen.
CAMP GEAR: 1 large knife, 1 small knife, small hand axe, very small saw, blanket gun and possible bag, pack
basket,strike-a-lite bag and leather bag with cedar bark, birch bark and pitch wood slivers.
Snowshoes and a walking stick.
The weather cleared in the night and it got brisk out. I stayed reasonably comfortable. That buff robe we tanned last August is warmer than most I have used in the past. Mostly because I never use neatsfoot oil in the solution nor apply it to the finished hide. I do add a bit of buff marrow grease or bear grease to the brains [ only a tablespoon tho]. There is no real greasy feel in the end, and we all know greased braintan is colder than hides left ungreased. This was a two year old cow so it was big enough for my bed, but just barely.
Big surprise at breakfast. I thought I had packed chokecherry patties, but they turned out to be service berry instead. I had shaped the two differently, but forgot. Thought they looked funny when I packed them. It was a rush pack since I decided on the camp at the last moment to take advantage of the weather window. It was evening in a cabin off the grid. What can I say. Anyway. Serviceberry and wild apple soup with boiled corn balls and roasted buffalo meat made a fine breakfast. And the sun is up and warming things.
Made a short scout of the surrounding area looking for grouse—the reason I brought the gun.No luck. Not much sign even. Only two sets of tracks. Back at the main camp, we were seeing lots of them this winter. They seem to especially enjoy chowing aspen buds in the winter and there are not too many near my camp.
Headed back to camp and decided to pack up camp and start for home. I had about used up the fun of being out by myself. I have spent months alone out in the hills and know and understand the value of having a friend along to share the experience. Camaraderie is one of the highlights of winter camping. Maybe sometime in the future, I will sojourn to other places and have that experience too.
I decided to back trail and see if I could trail us through the hard snow in the woods. These N. Idaho woods are very confusing and Ronzo had taken me on a shortcut I had never traveled [ and we got turned around a bit on the way out to boot] . I lost the tracks in icy places twice, but located them by circling a little. Then, of all things, I missed a turn off the 50 yards of road between me and home and went on down the road another 50 yards to some thinner timber over a hill. And this was supposed to be country I know. Anyway, hiked over the hill and cut our back trail about a quarter mile further on.
It was nice to be out and nice to get back to Ronzo too. He said it had been about 19 degrees that night, so that was about perfect. The good spirits looked out for me on this trip.
I was one night short of completing my winter camp requirement on this trip, but it sure was great to get out on the ground and have such perfect weather and conditions. On later trips I fulfilled the requirement, but this camp remains in my mind, as the quintessential winter camp. The woods were lovely dark and deep, but I had promises to keep…….
Thought it might be interesting to our members to hear about one woman’s winter camp experience. I live far from other members, so decided to go for it on my own. Here’s how it went direct from my journal.
Here it is, another moon—popping trees, maybe.I finally packed my outfit and headed out for some time away from the main camp. Ronzo snowshoed out with me to show some shortcuts he knows back to where I wanted to look for a camp site. He couldn’t stay out tho, as someone needed to tend our main winter camp and feed the stock and keep the fires burning. So, it’s just me on my lonesome, sipping tea and simmering a pot of beans, corn, and wild rice with powdered stinging nettles. [Have to have my greens!]. Want to write the events of the day as I relax and it is fresh.
Got off in good order in the morning. I picked now to make my sojourn as there is no snow in the trees and hence, no dripping. This can be a major problem in this part of the country. Also, we had a mid winter thaw to settle the snowpack and it has been cold two nights so the snow is great for snowshoeing. The cold also means snow instead of rain, should the clouds lower. Also there is a good moon so some light at nite. As good as it gets for a winter camp in North Idaho.
Snowshoed two miles and found a perfect camp under a big fir tree with bare ground underneath. Better than I expected. I had planned to go to a small cove on Sleight Mountain a half mile further on, but this was too nice to pass up. After dropping my pack, Ronzo and I Snowshoed on to the cove, to check it out, as it was still early in the day. Its so pretty up there, but no big firs there without snow, so I made a good camp choice. There is a creek flowing 30’ from camp and a lot of dead lower limbs from this grandmother fir for my fire. There are more dead alders along the creek for wood too.
After we returned to my campsite, Ronzo bid farewell, and returned to the main camp. I spent the remainder of the day, setting a nice camp. First, I cut a number of fir boughs for my bed and to scatter on the ground where I would sit and walk, and then I spent lots of time making fire wood. Brewed some tea and ate some jerky after getting together a small wood pile, as I felt in need of a recharge. Then it was back to putting up wood. Coyotes serenaded and ravens checked out the scene. Lots of moose and elk sign and even some deer. I would have thought the deer would be out of here by now. Too dark to write more now.
Since I am out on my own, I will give some account of my gear……
CLOTHES: 1 cotton shirt, 1 wool shirt, 1 wool serape, leather skirt, leather long leggings, winter mocs with blanket liners, 3 pair woolsocks, summer mocs[for in bed], leather gloves, blanket mittens, blanket capote, and wool Canadian cap.
FOOD: Buffalo meat, buffalo jerky, dried chokecherry patties, dried wild apples, handful each dried beans, corn, wild rice, maple sugar, brick tea, corn meal mixed with buff fat for cornballs, salt, pepper, nutmeg, hot peppers and powder dried stinging nettles.
BED: 1 brain tanned buffalo robe, 1 light 4 point wool blanket, small canvas tarp about 5 ’by
6'.
COOK GEAR: 1 small brass billy pot, 1 tin cup, small carved stirring stick, rough carved eating spoon, wood noggin bowl, rawhide bags for dry food, bladder and rawhide bags for meat, and a copper
canteen.
CAMP GEAR: 1 large knife, 1 small knife, small hand axe, very small saw, blanket gun and possible bag, pack
basket,strike-a-lite bag and leather bag with cedar bark, birch bark and pitch wood slivers.
Snowshoes and a walking stick.
The weather cleared in the night and it got brisk out. I stayed reasonably comfortable. That buff robe we tanned last August is warmer than most I have used in the past. Mostly because I never use neatsfoot oil in the solution nor apply it to the finished hide. I do add a bit of buff marrow grease or bear grease to the brains [ only a tablespoon tho]. There is no real greasy feel in the end, and we all know greased braintan is colder than hides left ungreased. This was a two year old cow so it was big enough for my bed, but just barely.
Big surprise at breakfast. I thought I had packed chokecherry patties, but they turned out to be service berry instead. I had shaped the two differently, but forgot. Thought they looked funny when I packed them. It was a rush pack since I decided on the camp at the last moment to take advantage of the weather window. It was evening in a cabin off the grid. What can I say. Anyway. Serviceberry and wild apple soup with boiled corn balls and roasted buffalo meat made a fine breakfast. And the sun is up and warming things.
Made a short scout of the surrounding area looking for grouse—the reason I brought the gun.No luck. Not much sign even. Only two sets of tracks. Back at the main camp, we were seeing lots of them this winter. They seem to especially enjoy chowing aspen buds in the winter and there are not too many near my camp.
Headed back to camp and decided to pack up camp and start for home. I had about used up the fun of being out by myself. I have spent months alone out in the hills and know and understand the value of having a friend along to share the experience. Camaraderie is one of the highlights of winter camping. Maybe sometime in the future, I will sojourn to other places and have that experience too.
I decided to back trail and see if I could trail us through the hard snow in the woods. These N. Idaho woods are very confusing and Ronzo had taken me on a shortcut I had never traveled [ and we got turned around a bit on the way out to boot] . I lost the tracks in icy places twice, but located them by circling a little. Then, of all things, I missed a turn off the 50 yards of road between me and home and went on down the road another 50 yards to some thinner timber over a hill. And this was supposed to be country I know. Anyway, hiked over the hill and cut our back trail about a quarter mile further on.
It was nice to be out and nice to get back to Ronzo too. He said it had been about 19 degrees that night, so that was about perfect. The good spirits looked out for me on this trip.
I was one night short of completing my winter camp requirement on this trip, but it sure was great to get out on the ground and have such perfect weather and conditions. On later trips I fulfilled the requirement, but this camp remains in my mind, as the quintessential winter camp. The woods were lovely dark and deep, but I had promises to keep…….
Jean Heinbuch suggested I write up my solo winter camp experience for WMS website to be included with her own. Here it is. You should know I am a probationary member working through my requirements. Though experienced with the local outdoors and some old-time skills, the fur trade era and its technologies are new to me. Here are some excerpts from my journal and some time-delayed photos/selfies.
It’s March 18th and I have yet to cut the hem fringe on my two-hide dress. I also plan hem patches and some quilling. But with no time remaining before spring, I set off in hopes of completing a primitive winter camp requirement in period clothing and accoutrements. The only person I know who might have joined me, my sponsor Denise, has moved to Texas. I’m in the Rogue River-Siskiyou National Forest at 2,500 ft. elevation in Southern Oregon. There are clouds overhead with showers predicted. Snow that has fallen is almost completely melted. More is predicted later this week.
I carry my 10x10 hand-sewn oillcloth diamond fly. Bedding and clothing are rolled inside. I make a second trip for food tins and bags, and a few other items packed in my burden basket. I carry it with a tumpline on my forehead. I’ve learned to carry loads this way without discomfort. The stream crossing is a challenge as this method of carrying requires an upright posture. As I stoop to steady myself on rocks the basket rolls on my back throwing me off balance. I steady it with one hand and readjust it so the tumpline is on my shoulders. One hand on the tumpline and the other holding my digging stick/staff, I make my way across cautiously. I note that someone who uses this method on a daily basis would not forget to adjust it when making a stream crossing.
I clear two eight-foot poles of branches. The poles are roped together. They suspend the diamond fly between them from the loop in the center patch. Three corners are staked down with hastily made chokecherry stakes. The fourth is elevated and serves as a doorway. Later I will lower the entrance to conserve heat. The weather warms to the low fifties with intermittent clouds. I set off to gather wood. My water needs boiling. There is plenty of wood to gather. Dead wood dangles from the maples. The wood gathered from up off the ground is dryer. I drop it over my shoulder into the basket. I prepare fatwood feather-sticks, tinder nest, and graded kindling. As the clouds begin to clear, I set wood to dry in the sun.
With my unimpressive strength, pine pitch is critical to my success with hand-spindle friction-fire. I look for pine pitch but there are very few pines. The Douglas fir seem to be barren of pitch. Then I spot what looks like an icy waterfall weeping from a fire-damaged fir.
Jean Heinbuch suggested I write up my solo winter camp experience for WMS website to be included with her own. Here it is. You should know I am a probationary member working through my requirements. Though experienced with the local outdoors and some old-time skills, the fur trade era and its technologies are new to me. Here are some excerpts from my journal and some time-delayed photos/selfies.
It’s March 18th and I have yet to cut the hem fringe on my two-hide dress. I also plan hem patches and some quilling. But with no time remaining before spring, I set off in hopes of completing a primitive winter camp requirement in period clothing and accoutrements. The only person I know who might have joined me, my sponsor Denise, has moved to Texas. I’m in the Rogue River-Siskiyou National Forest at 2,500 ft. elevation in Southern Oregon. There are clouds overhead with showers predicted. Snow that has fallen is almost completely melted. More is predicted later this week.
I carry my 10x10 hand-sewn oillcloth diamond fly. Bedding and clothing are rolled inside. I make a second trip for food tins and bags, and a few other items packed in my burden basket. I carry it with a tumpline on my forehead. I’ve learned to carry loads this way without discomfort. The stream crossing is a challenge as this method of carrying requires an upright posture. As I stoop to steady myself on rocks the basket rolls on my back throwing me off balance. I steady it with one hand and readjust it so the tumpline is on my shoulders. One hand on the tumpline and the other holding my digging stick/staff, I make my way across cautiously. I note that someone who uses this method on a daily basis would not forget to adjust it when making a stream crossing.
I clear two eight-foot poles of branches. The poles are roped together. They suspend the diamond fly between them from the loop in the center patch. Three corners are staked down with hastily made chokecherry stakes. The fourth is elevated and serves as a doorway. Later I will lower the entrance to conserve heat. The weather warms to the low fifties with intermittent clouds. I set off to gather wood. My water needs boiling. There is plenty of wood to gather. Dead wood dangles from the maples. The wood gathered from up off the ground is dryer. I drop it over my shoulder into the basket. I prepare fatwood feather-sticks, tinder nest, and graded kindling. As the clouds begin to clear, I set wood to dry in the sun.
With my unimpressive strength, pine pitch is critical to my success with hand-spindle friction-fire. I look for pine pitch but there are very few pines. The Douglas fir seem to be barren of pitch. Then I spot what looks like an icy waterfall weeping from a fire-damaged fir.
The temperature drops as clouds move back in. I walk to the meadow where plants with shredding stalks are growing. Sure enough, there are milkweed plants, well-retted fiber material for tomorrow’s tinder nest.
I rehydrate home-made dried chili and make a fir needle tea. The remainder of the afternoon is consumed with fire, fuel, and water.
I’ve made little mention of the dog. This trip would have been livelier with human company, but she provides good companionship, makes me laugh, is a night-time heat source and an early warning system to be valued when travelling alone. I am in bed at dusk, snuggled in with hair-on hides, woven rabbit-skin cape, two wool blankets, and a warm pup.
In the morning there is blue sky and frost. Without a trail to travel or friends to greet I am slow to rise. When the sun hits the fly and a nearby raven makes guttural calls, I exit the diamond fly. My hands are cold and dampness rules so this fire is more difficult. It requires four attempts to produce an ember, but I’m pleased that yesterday’s tinder material works well in the tinder nest. Soon a fire is going, but it is clear it’s not a lively summer fire. Moisture in the wood makes it cranky and demanding. I boil more water for the day as I sip the remaining fir tea.
Breakfast is ash cakes. My dough is made by adding water to a well in the flour of my buckskin flour sack. A pinch of white ash is kneaded in.
They are surprisingly good.
I go to the meadow. The sun is shining. I just sit and listen for a while before I write in my journal.
I work with the dogbane sticks I brought… Scraping, stripping fiber, cleaning fiber. I thigh-roll it into two-ply cordage. Doubling it over and reverse wrapping makes it four-ply, a collar/lead for the dog.
By 12:00 there are mackerel clouds. By 3:30 cloud cover is low. I return to camp to enjoy cold chili. I begin to break camp. I’ve enjoyed my time in the woods. I look forward to Spring Camp with WMS sisters.
I rehydrate home-made dried chili and make a fir needle tea. The remainder of the afternoon is consumed with fire, fuel, and water.
I’ve made little mention of the dog. This trip would have been livelier with human company, but she provides good companionship, makes me laugh, is a night-time heat source and an early warning system to be valued when travelling alone. I am in bed at dusk, snuggled in with hair-on hides, woven rabbit-skin cape, two wool blankets, and a warm pup.
In the morning there is blue sky and frost. Without a trail to travel or friends to greet I am slow to rise. When the sun hits the fly and a nearby raven makes guttural calls, I exit the diamond fly. My hands are cold and dampness rules so this fire is more difficult. It requires four attempts to produce an ember, but I’m pleased that yesterday’s tinder material works well in the tinder nest. Soon a fire is going, but it is clear it’s not a lively summer fire. Moisture in the wood makes it cranky and demanding. I boil more water for the day as I sip the remaining fir tea.
Breakfast is ash cakes. My dough is made by adding water to a well in the flour of my buckskin flour sack. A pinch of white ash is kneaded in.
They are surprisingly good.
I go to the meadow. The sun is shining. I just sit and listen for a while before I write in my journal.
I work with the dogbane sticks I brought… Scraping, stripping fiber, cleaning fiber. I thigh-roll it into two-ply cordage. Doubling it over and reverse wrapping makes it four-ply, a collar/lead for the dog.
By 12:00 there are mackerel clouds. By 3:30 cloud cover is low. I return to camp to enjoy cold chili. I begin to break camp. I’ve enjoyed my time in the woods. I look forward to Spring Camp with WMS sisters.