Wilderness Rights of Passage

k_estela

k_estela

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A rite of passage is defined as a an event in a person's life that represents a transition or change from one state to another. In the wilderness, an individual can forever be changed the first time he or she performs a certain skill, is taught a lesson by chance or on purpose, is thrust into a situation willingly or by accident or simply by fate.

In my life, I can honestly say I can recall many rites of passage. I'll never forget hiking with my father and being taught the importance of carrying matches and of course, a knife. Ever since then, I've always had them with me. Even though I didn't smoke, I knew how to get a fire going with a lighter or a match. I even had a secret compartment in my bookbag as a kid for some small survival gear. Another rite of passage was the first time I spent a night out in the woods alone. As a preteen/teen sneaking off with my pack I felt the uneasiness of being alone, the sense of independence and the feeling of accomplishment when I saw the sun cresting on the horizon.

These two events changed me as a person and have helped make me the person I am today. I'm just wondering what other rites of passage you guys have experienced and want to share.
 
When I was around 8 or 9 I had a few little folding knives, a Swiss Army knife or two and some others that were given to me from my uncles or friends of my father. I liked them a lot and played around with them all the time. One day I found a rusted folding knife by the side of the road. It was missing one of its scales, but still had two working blades in decent shape. I took it home and cleaned and oiled it and polished the rust off. It still had the rivets on the side where the scale was missing so I decided to make a new scale out of wood. I found a piece of scrap wood in the garage and using a Swiss Army knife saw cut it to roughly the right size and using the awl was able to poke holes in it to fit over the rivets. Pressed in place I then whittled it down to match the other scale and sanded it. Then I glued it in place and put some oil on it. It really came out great. My parents were impressed. But the big moment came when one of my father's friends came to visit. He was the REAL outdoorsman, knew everything there was to know about hunting and fishing. When he saw my knife I could tell he was truly impressed and not just trying to humor a young boy.

He treated me differently from that moment forward, not as an adult, because I was still a child, but as someone who could be trusted to do tasks that required responsibility and thought, such as tie the boat down to the top of the car or net the big Bass he had been fighting for 10 minutes.
 
My brother gave me my first sak (A vic camper) when I was 7 ...He took me out fishing for snapper in our little row boat and presented it to me...I was always into nature but this day the fishing the knife the comradery of my much older brother..ushered in a new path of life for me and started me down the road I'm still on today...My brother is a great guy always has a sak but is not a woodsy guy at all funny how he influenced me to Try to become what he is not...
 
Webbing burns that give value to a decent bergan. Hideous non-breathable fabrics and bivy bags that saturate and cook you all at once, 'till you emerge lookin' like a steamed tofu sausage. Learning that Barbour waterproof is only great if you go out shooting then go home. A few days in the hard going and it sux. Waterproof shells are something you would don to take a spraying with high pressure a hose. If you can't take that, don't show up with it. The days of traveling along like a tinker with bits of kit external to your pack irritating the life out of you. Watching ya fat mate clambering obstacles in an undignified manner with his big old bowie strapped to his thigh,'till such point as a cracks in frustration and ripping the thing away puffs and blows “get this bloody cutlass off me”. The horsefly bite that makes ya hand swell up like an inflated washing up glove. And on...and on.
 
theonew said:
He was the REAL outdoorsman, knew everything there was to know about hunting and fishing. When he saw my knife I could tell he was truly impressed and not just trying to humor a young boy.

He treated me differently from that moment forward, not as an adult, because I was still a child, but as someone who could be trusted to do tasks that required responsibility and thought...
Click to expand...
Praise always means more when it isn't given freely. Great story.:thumbup:
 
my small right of passage was getting a fixed blade. i only had folders and SAK's until i was 13 and then for my birthday in December i scraped up some money and bought myself a KA-BAR. it was a small but real wilderness passage for me because it showed my ever growing passion and respect for the wilderness by getting a better more useful tool for outdoor needs. i have yet to go on a real right of passage but i have always wanted to "run away" for a week or two and live by my self in the wild, unfortunately for me that is kinda unrealistic.
 
On an isolated creek, all alone, in northern Canada, sneaking up on an 18" brook trout, floating a single egg right too it. Then watching it rise, bite and go over my head. Finally landing it.
I could step across the creek. I was 14.
There were bear tracks every where. We made clubs. We were mighty men. At 14.
We were in wilderness. 140 miles to the nearest store.
As a scout master I took my scouts back there. I found a huge resort, There is no repeating our lives. The trick to to always find new "first times". I am 60 and still looking.
Ron Athay
 
I think there are three for me...

First time I fell into the rythm of nature and was one.
Earning my college degree in forestry, which had many rights of passage unto itself.
First friction fire.
 
Many days and nights spent in the desert west of Tucson Az. as a child. Not really knowing what "survival" skills were but doing them nonetheless.

Buying my own first fixed blade from the local hardware store in Yuma AZ - a Mora, man 8$ seemed like a lot back then.

Those kinds of things always stick with a person.

J.
 
First time sneaking up on a herd of deer or elk and watching them for hours. First subsistence hunt. First time you're sick or hurt and have to get through on your own. First time waiting out a blizzard in a thicket with only your day gear.

Getting through the first day back after a month in the bush.
 
Kevin,
Good stuff man. I always liked your subjects and have learned a lot from you. Thanks for responding to my many annoying PMs. Respect!:thumbup:

Mine is simple. Being in the woods with my Grandfather as a kid and throughout my life. Nothing has ever been more important than that or him.
 
A few that come to mind are

Getting my first pocket knife, I was 5
Grandpa giving me my first pellet gun at 8 years old

Taking my first deer, alone with a fresh snow on the ground. Though I had took lots of small game, that morning was special. I was 14 or 15 and I drug the fat doe back the 200-300 yards to the house, hung it dressed it and got it cut up and in the freezer by
my self. Quit a sense of accomplishment, and I found even more respect for nature and wildlife that day.

And I'll agree with Quiet Bear, the first friction fire was a right of passage too. Knowing that with just a knife and a boot lace, I had good chance of building fire.

Good Idea for a thread by the way:thumbup:
 
Digging for worms under the cottonwood tree in Mogote, Co (the tree is still there and still plenty of worms) with my dad when I was about 6 yrs old

Cleaning my 1st trout with a knife

My Crosman 760 bb gun

My Wham-O folding "pocket rocket"/wrist rocket

And finally,
Making a slingshot with a cotton wood stick, and old shoe "tongue", a strip of rubber tire and a pocket knife just like my dad did
(He supervised the project..I still have the slingshot too!!)
 
first time killing an animal ( hand reared , till then it was bunty the goat , then it became bunty the barbeque )

first kill on a hunt , then first kill with each weapon , bow , spear , rifle ... each a mile stone

camping out for more than a month living off what I hunted and harvested

first time using bush medcine because there was no other option

first time my woman accepted me and the bush as part of her life too

kinda standard milestones I spose

there have been a number of offbeat milestones ...

feeling my spirit / letting the land talk to me

first time I felt artifacts call .. spear points , water holes , places , paintings , and felt the history of the place speak

first time I "felt" people coming and knew their intent before they arrived like a day before , while they was still traveling

these are off beat things I blame on me being part native , in town they fade out , in the bush they come back ... weird off beat stuff , maybe Im just nuts :)
 
This is a great topic. I think that modern life affords too few rites of passage for young people. Those that are available all seem to be pretty negative, at least here in Brazil.

Part of the concept behind the course I run several times a year is to provide such an opportunity. For most of the guys I take out it is their first time ever in the bush. The entire experience is full of firsts. Mac
 
1. Walking into the ring in to fight in the golden gloves
2. Getting lost in the woods in the winter
3. Hitchhiking across the US
4. carving a totem pole
5. shooting a deer
6. assisting a martial artist teach a seminar in Mexico
7. completing a meditation retreat in Thailand
8. finishing college
9. first solo hike

making a friction fire is one of my goals.
 
You guys might laugh at this one, but, one of my first rites of passage was my initiation ceremony into the Order of the Arrow as a Scout. A really moving ceremony. (sniff)
Another scouting rite of passage was completing a week-long trek at Philmont Scout Ranch in New Mexico. I remember feeling like I was a "man" after that one.:)
Philmont was so awesome, that I still dream about retiring (soon:thumbup:) somewhere in the Sangre De Christo range.
 
Watching my son come kicking and screaming into this world.
Graduating basic combat training.
getting my CAV sabers
getting my first clinical save in the field
getting my 760 pumpmaster bb gun
Buying my first gun with my own money, that I worked for.

this is a great thread. I really enjoyed reading everyones stories.
 
Crying the first time I shot a deer - I was ten years old and it was an important lesson in the responsibility of taking life.

Stalking a fox close enough I could hit it with a walking stick was a big accomplishment - it took over three hours and even though i had my .22 with me i didn't shoot it. but it was probably the biggest accomplishment i ever felt as a hunter.
 
there are many different rights of passage, that i can think of... the first that comes to mind, was getting my first shotgun when i was in 6th. grade...:D
i remenber my dad used to say, "whatever you catch and whatever you shoot, you clean"..... and "whatever I catch and whatever I shoot, you clean"...:o go figure...
 
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