Last updated at 09:45, Tuesday, 27 January 2009

Val Morgan sharpens her survival skills on a weeknd in the wild with specialist Cumbrian company Woodsmoke

Woodsmoke, Cockermouth val Morgan in the shelter she helped to build

As I approached through Beatrix
Potter country, I was a little puzzled by the location. Could this gently undulating landscape really be the training ground for a weekend of bushcraft and wilderness survival? I had expected something wilder, more remote.
But as I was about to discover, you don’t have to stray far from the beaten track to appreciate how bushcraft can transform
life outdoors.
Along with a dozen or so others I had signed up to an introductory Trailbreaker course, one of a diverse programme of courses run by Cockermouth-based bushcraft and wilderness survival specialists Woodsmoke.
Bushcraft has been described as one of the world’s oldest outdoor pursuits, born out of necessity and a desire to meet the natural world on its own terms. Refined over generations, the traditional living skills of woodsmen, trackers, hunters, naturalists and explorers can make life in the wild not only possible, but surprisingly comfortable.
After a quick roll call and a warm welcome from the Woodsmoke team, we left behind the twinkling lights of Far Sawrey and hiked by torchlight into the depths of a secluded 2,000-acre estate nestled inconspicuously between Windermere and Esthwaite Water. Amidst this vast swathe of broadleaf coppice and coniferous woodland lay the expedition-style base camp that would be our home for the next two days.
As we squelched into base camp, a fire glowed enticingly from beneath the parachute canopy that was to double as classroom
and mess tent. We pitched our tents and bivvies in the surrounding woodland then returned to the warmth of the fire. An introduction to camp safety and a tour
of the ‘facilities’ equipped us with some essential anti-toppling techniques for tackling the al fresco toilet trench and highlighted the best ways of avoiding tick-borne Lyme Disease and parasitic Giardia, both prevalent in the area. A swift-flowing woodland stream was our main source of water, but the presence of deer and herd animals in the catchment area meant that any water drawn from it had to be filtered then heated on a three-minute rolling boil to keep the Giardia parasite at bay.
Back at base I kept a watchful eye on the minute hand as I helped myself to a steaming mug from the brew pot and shared a nightcap with the others. Eventually the hypnotic flicker of firelight got the better of us, so we slipped away to our tents and drifted off to sleep beneath a wind-tossed tree canopy.
Next morning, as sunlight filtered to the forest floor, we stirred to the sound of the dawn chorus and set out through heavy dew to begin our bushcraft training in earnest. Brew in hand, we gathered round the fire and entered eagerly into the first lesson of the day – cutting tools and how to use them safely.
This was a subject that course leader Matt Upson knew a great deal about. As a
qualified tree surgeon with extensive green woodworking experience, he’d handcrafted most of his own tools. Opening a container that could have been the prop store for House of Flying Daggers he introduced us to an array of axe, saw and knife blades. His practical advice included how to differentiate between a well-crafted bush knife and its inferior cousin the ‘ego knife’. Sported by SAS wannabes the world over, the latter is characterised by an enormous blade and a hollow handle ill-suited to the rigours of bushcraft. By comparison a good bush knife will have a blade of good-quality steel, palm width in length, which extends through the full length of the handle for strength. By mid morning we knew how to choose the best tool for the job, and how to sharpen and use it correctly.
Fire lighting and greenwood carving were next on the agenda, but before we could go scouring the woodland for combustible or carveable material, we needed to learn the basics. Time rewound before our eyes as we delved into the past and learnt how different cultures had created fire throughout
human history.
From primitive friction-based methods like flint-knapping and hand-drilling to more modern chemical methods like the ordinary Swan Vesta match, I discovered that there are innumerable ways to start a fire. Electrical, solar, chemical, friction and compression methods were all demonstrated, one of the most surprising being the volatile reaction between potassium permanganate and glycerine – components of foot powder and toothpaste commonly found in most first aid kits. The display of fire lighting techniques was peppered with practical advice such as the old cowboy trick of impregnating matches with paraffin wax and storing with a needle file in case of soggy box emergencies.

Woodsmoke’s courses are far from spectator sports. Practice followed hot on the heels of theory and, issued with our own bush knives and folding saws, we set off into the woods.
Each journey from base camp became an opportunity to forage for wild foods, dry wood and natural tinder. Birch bark peelings, old nests, thistle down, bog cotton, twiglets of spruce and cedar disappeared into tinder pouches, pockets and knapsacks for later use. As our instructors opened our eyes to nature’s larder I was surprised to find it so well stocked. In a society where most people’s hunter-gatherer skills are confined to Tesco and Sainsbury’s, we have lost a great deal of diversity from our diets. The huge variety of edible seeds, nuts, fruits, berries, roots and fungi in our countryside hasn’t gone away, but our knowledge of how to identify, harvest and prepare these natural ingredients is fading.
I was struck by how time consuming wilderness living could be. Instead of poking around in the freezer for 15 minutes before meal time, we were foraging for food and gathering firewood many hours in advance of the main event. Yet the sense of satisfaction and purpose was immense and I felt this was the true pace at which humans were meant to live. Staying warm, fed, safe and dry were our main priorities in that moment and tomorrow would have to take care of itself.
As the weekend unfolded we delved deeper into topics like water purification, plant lore and backwoods cookery. When it came to shelter building, we were sent out into the woods to build an open-fronted Arctic lean-to. We headed for higher ground and picked a stretch of coniferous woodland free from the telltale ripples left behind by run-off. The ground was littered with felled and fallen branches that would make our job easier, but this was tempered with the realisation that it could also be a hotspot for ‘widow makers’.
This was a term coined by frontiersmen whose companions failed to return home to their wives, after neglecting to check the canopy for dead branches before setting up camp. With this in mind I paid special attention to the knots recommended by our instructor. Just beneath the soil’s surface we found vein-like roots stretching in every direction, so with grubby fingers we teased them out and knotted them like twine.
These were the cords with which we would strap our load-bearing cross beam between two tall trees. Next we leant a 45 degree wall of branches against the cross beam and weather-proofed it with brash, before adding the finishing touch – a surprisingly comfortable raised mattress of similar materials to keep occupants off the ground. I snuck back before dusk with my bivvy bag after the others had returned to base and imagined what it would be like to sleep in that tranquil place with only the earthy scent of forest for company.

Back at base camp, fires were flickering into action and backwoods cookery was in full swing. Freshly caught rainbow trout were filleted, then skewered flat and pinned between the split end of a sharpened stake. While fish baked and sizzled at the outer edge of the fire, root vegetables were nudged into the embers and a mouth-watering aroma wafted through the woods. As daylight faded, we shared one of the tastiest meals I can remember eating outdoors and, over the clinking of mugs, some of the finest company I’d enjoyed in a long while too.
Over that weekend, Woodsmoke’s Trailbreaker course had sharpened more than just my survival skills. Drawing on a wealth of traditional living skills and the best of modern know-how, it had equipped me with life skills that would have a bearing far beyond these woods.
Away from our fast-paced, techno-dependent society, I’d been given the opportunity to reset my internal clock and reconnect with nature. As we made the return hike to civilisation, I realised that my surroundings looked quite different now. Wherever I looked I could see wild food, shelter-building materials, natural tinder and more. For the past two days while the rest of society sped forward, full steam ahead, I felt fortunate to have had the opportunity to stop and smell the woodsmoke.

First published at 12:23, Monday, 26 January 2009
Published by http://www.cumbrialife.co.uk