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- Sep 23, 2008
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The second to last weekend in November I took a little trip into the mountains (don't worry, pics are coming as soon as my high-speed 'net connection is back up and running...how do you guys with dial-up do it?!). I learned something new on that trip that answered a question posed here, and on another forum I'm a member of, some time ago. The question was: "Shelter or Fire?"
We must have gone on for pages about technicalities: reflectivity, microclimates, etc... this weekend I answered the question (at least for ME--not that I didn't have an answer for myself to begin with).
I started out that morning around 0830 EST. It was cold, frosty and there was ice in some places. I hiked for better than 4 hours before I got far enough away that I couldn't hear traffic. All told my hike was almost 4 miles of inclines, climbing, tree-to-tree negotiation, in-and-out of gulleys, and 15 degree inclines with a few flats in between.
I won't bore you with the details of water, etc...I'll save that for the pictures.
My spot ended up being a Western facing slope that had been in the sun all morning, with a patch of pines (which means it was a pretty good elevation. Pines don't grow low here, unless somebody plants them). When I got there (another hour of hiking, as I had to horseshoe my course, doubling back a ridge above the way I'd come). When I got to the place I had picked, legs burning from the terrain, I was happy to see all the possible places to sleep. Lots of big, flat rocks to kick heat back at me at night. Little covies (that might or might not be full of copperheads gone to nest for the year). It was home for a day or so. It was also a LOT warmer than the valley, where the water was. I hung a small thermometer, compass, whistle, magnifying glass keychain thing just to see the temps: It got up to 60 degrees on the ridge I was on. In the valley you could still see your breath and needed a sweater.
After putting up my a-frame (more on that from the pictures) and filling it with leaves and debris and leaf-filled garbage bags I set about making a place for a reflector/cooking fire.
Remember, it's fall, so the ground was absolutely covered with dry leaves. It took me another hour just to clear enough leaves away from the area and drop the fire hazard.
I finished and watched as the sun went down, listening to a hoot owl across the mountain.
Just before dark I lit my fire. A small fire. A controllable fire, easily extinguished with what water I had with me. But, thanks to the big rocks, it threw back plenty of heat. I felt safe, I had planned on making myself some hot Pine needle tea for later when it got really cold.
Ten minutes after I started that fire, God thought it would be funny to kick the wind up. The wind caused sparks to fly out of my fire heavily. So guess what I had to do...put it out. I killed my friend, like Big R says.
I didn't feel very safe anymore. No easy warmth, no firelight to keep the Boogies at bay. No hot Pine Needle tea while listening to the owls hoot. I was alone. It was dark. And it started getting cold...QUICK.
So I crawled into my a-frame. Huddled under an emergency blanket on my garbage bags full of leaves, lying atop my mountain of debris. It didn't take long to get warm and cozy. I fell asleep a few minutes later...and awoke to the sounds of three does blowing a few feet from Casa de Lynyrd.
The lesson I learned that night was a big one about the rule of threes. Three hours without shelter. That night the temps dropped to 45 on the ridge and probably about 30 or 35 in the valley. Plenty enough to kill a man if he doesn't know what he's doing.
If I'd have foregone shelter for just a fire, I might not be here right now.
So the next time you go out woodsbumming and think: "Tonight I'll just use a fire. I don't need a shelter." Rethink your plan. Fire isn't shelter. Fire is fire. You never know what might happen to cause you to have to put that fire out. And what started as a "fun one-nighter", turns into a bad situation; and, as we all know, it doesn't take long for a bad situation to turn into a total shitstorm.
We must have gone on for pages about technicalities: reflectivity, microclimates, etc... this weekend I answered the question (at least for ME--not that I didn't have an answer for myself to begin with).
I started out that morning around 0830 EST. It was cold, frosty and there was ice in some places. I hiked for better than 4 hours before I got far enough away that I couldn't hear traffic. All told my hike was almost 4 miles of inclines, climbing, tree-to-tree negotiation, in-and-out of gulleys, and 15 degree inclines with a few flats in between.
I won't bore you with the details of water, etc...I'll save that for the pictures.
My spot ended up being a Western facing slope that had been in the sun all morning, with a patch of pines (which means it was a pretty good elevation. Pines don't grow low here, unless somebody plants them). When I got there (another hour of hiking, as I had to horseshoe my course, doubling back a ridge above the way I'd come). When I got to the place I had picked, legs burning from the terrain, I was happy to see all the possible places to sleep. Lots of big, flat rocks to kick heat back at me at night. Little covies (that might or might not be full of copperheads gone to nest for the year). It was home for a day or so. It was also a LOT warmer than the valley, where the water was. I hung a small thermometer, compass, whistle, magnifying glass keychain thing just to see the temps: It got up to 60 degrees on the ridge I was on. In the valley you could still see your breath and needed a sweater.
After putting up my a-frame (more on that from the pictures) and filling it with leaves and debris and leaf-filled garbage bags I set about making a place for a reflector/cooking fire.
Remember, it's fall, so the ground was absolutely covered with dry leaves. It took me another hour just to clear enough leaves away from the area and drop the fire hazard.
I finished and watched as the sun went down, listening to a hoot owl across the mountain.
Just before dark I lit my fire. A small fire. A controllable fire, easily extinguished with what water I had with me. But, thanks to the big rocks, it threw back plenty of heat. I felt safe, I had planned on making myself some hot Pine needle tea for later when it got really cold.
Ten minutes after I started that fire, God thought it would be funny to kick the wind up. The wind caused sparks to fly out of my fire heavily. So guess what I had to do...put it out. I killed my friend, like Big R says.
I didn't feel very safe anymore. No easy warmth, no firelight to keep the Boogies at bay. No hot Pine Needle tea while listening to the owls hoot. I was alone. It was dark. And it started getting cold...QUICK.
So I crawled into my a-frame. Huddled under an emergency blanket on my garbage bags full of leaves, lying atop my mountain of debris. It didn't take long to get warm and cozy. I fell asleep a few minutes later...and awoke to the sounds of three does blowing a few feet from Casa de Lynyrd.
The lesson I learned that night was a big one about the rule of threes. Three hours without shelter. That night the temps dropped to 45 on the ridge and probably about 30 or 35 in the valley. Plenty enough to kill a man if he doesn't know what he's doing.
If I'd have foregone shelter for just a fire, I might not be here right now.
So the next time you go out woodsbumming and think: "Tonight I'll just use a fire. I don't need a shelter." Rethink your plan. Fire isn't shelter. Fire is fire. You never know what might happen to cause you to have to put that fire out. And what started as a "fun one-nighter", turns into a bad situation; and, as we all know, it doesn't take long for a bad situation to turn into a total shitstorm.
