American Bushman

"If you would not be forgotten as soon as you are dead, either write things worth reading or do things worth writing." —Benjamin Franklin

Sunday, November 16, 2008

Flying South

While sitting under a black cherry tree wrapped in a space blanket and watching the fire pop and smoke I heard the rolling, rattling call of the Sandhill Cranes (Grus canadensis) flying South.

The call is distinctive and if you're looking for them you will find them flying very high up so the volume of their call must be quite loud.

It's a cold, windy day with chance for some snow showers (also known as the perfect kind of day to be outside.) It is, however, a good day to wrap up or to build a shelter to keep warm.

The space blanket I'm using is one with the hood and hand "mitts" and, quite frankly, I wish it was a bit wider. Wrapped around me it feels somewhat restricting although it did exactly what it was supposed to do--keep me protected from the wind and warm from reflected body heat.

Often I'll use this space blanket as a lean-to so the width isn't so much of an issue (although my head and/or feet would get wet if I were trying to lay out in a storm) but used as advertised it left me wanting something.

While the space blanket was a bit disappointing today the Fehrman First Strike withstood quite a beating while I was processing seasoned wood for the fire. I was thankful for the rubber liners but still managed to work until my left hand was exhausted.

I'm headed back out in just a minute to continue to work with the space blanket to see if I can't come up with a better solution.

Thanks for reading,



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