Pablo’s Woodlife: Wildlife, Tracking and Bushcraft

How’s about this…

“Get some bushcraft kit together. Pack up a box of food (don’t forget to include beer and some brandy) and a Ray Bushmears DVD. Take your notebook, drawing kit, bligging thing (laptop to do blogs) and drive a couple hours to a log cabin in the middle of a wood on the edge of the Lincolnshire Wolds and stay there for a week. Oh and don’t forget your swimwear.”

Uh??

This was what I was presented with by Mrs P last week. What a great gift! A week of intense wildlife, bushcraft, tracking and chilling out on my own; all in the 5 star comfort of a fully appointed lodge complete with the use of hotel facilities half a mile down the road. Not quite wilderness living - more like 5 star bushcraft! But a great opportunity to do some serious wildlife watching and exploration from a permanent base.

I actually think it’s a cunning plan to get me away from my Grandson for a week and stop me mithering after him. Everybody truly believes I’m going to kidnap him and take him for his first excursion to the woods. As if! (Thank you all for your kind comments by the way.)

I’ve no idea what the area provides wildlife wise, nor what the woods are like. Looking at the map there’s a couple of nature reserves and three main, large wooded areas connected by narrow strips of woodland. On the OS map there appears to be several small lakes and a few streams. To the east a road leads to the coast about 10 miles away where there’s a large sand dune system which harbours a coastal nature reserve.

When do I go? Tomorrow. Not sure what Internet facilities there are so I’ll probably see you this time next week hopefully with a notebook full of adventures.

Now… Where’s that beer?

Pablo.

Meet Lewis Oliver… with old Grandpa Pablo.

At two days old, Lewis is probably the world’s youngest bushcrafter…

You can probably see the Swiss Army Knife he’s clutching. It’s the Escort SAK.

He said he’ll do a review when he’s a bit older.

Remember Mr J? I visited him in September being the owner of some woods quite close to where I live. At the time the pheasant shooting season was just about to start. The eccentrically wonderful and quintessentially English Mr J asked me to return in February.
 
His daughter directed me to an old potting shed at the back of the country house over looking a sumptuous lake. The slightly stooping figure of Mr J appeared in full gardening regalia, complete with mustard waistcoat, tie, green wellies, fingerless gloves and a dripping nose.

Pablo: Hello Mr J, I don’t suppose you remember me?

Mr J: Yes of course! Well done, well done. Of course I remember you! Wildlife wasn’t it? Yes, well done! Well done for coming back.

Pablo: You said I should pop in after the pheasant season to see if I could use your woods.

Mr J: Yes, exactly. Wonderful. Okay then, I will give you the number of my man. He looks after the woods.

We walked into the house and into Mr J’s office/study.

Mr J: Sit down now. Sit down.

I sat down on a rickety looking chair which nearly toppled over. A quick look around and I saw signs of a seemingly disorganised, old-fashioned working farm office.

Mr J: Pigeons.

Pablo: Pardon me?

Mr J: They might still be shooting pigeons, but they generally pack up mid March.

Pablo: I’ll give him a ring to let him know when I’m going in. I wouldn’t want to disturb any shooting.

Mr J: Exactly. I’ll speak to him on Monday and let him know.

Mr J disappeared for a good 5 minutes and eventually returned carrying a short and well eaten pencil. We swopped phone numbers on the back of an old envelope torn in half.

Mr J: Exactly, exactly. What is it you do again?

Pablo: I like to study the wildlife and I do a bit of tracking. I might stay in the woods at night sometimes if that’s okay. Lots to see at night.

Mr J: Yes exactly. (Chuckles.) Well done. We like all that. We don’t like people who just wander in. People think they have a right you know.

Pablo: Exactly. That’s why I ask permission. (This sounds familiar…) Do you know Mr T. by any chance? (I remember Mr T, another landowner, providing a long discourse why people shouldn’t have the right to roam.)

Mr J: Yes, I know him.

In the pause that followed, I expected a bit of information about Mr T or at least a little more on the right to roam, but nothing more was forthcoming.

Pablo: Well, thank you again. Of course I will keep an eye out for you.

Mr J: Yes do that. Well done, well done…

…and with that, he was off to his potting shed - leaving me sitting in the chair.

This seems to be a great step forward. Access to a fine piece of mixed woodland.

Pablo.

…or should I say, I got Doris stuck!

The conservation group had decided to deter the rabbits nibbling at the orchids and so we had collected some orange plastic fencing to put around an area to the south side of the woods. Having the only off-road vehicle I was tasked to deliver the fencing to the edge of the wood via the field.

We successfully erected the fencing and I waved goodbye drooling at the prospect of a Sunday roast wating for me at home. My last shout through the open window was, “I love these 4×4’s.” The kiss of death! From then on, it all went downhill. Instead of following the muddy ruts as I should have, I tried to turn and go across them. I think somebody shouted something which caused me to stop. Mistake number two. The back wheels settled into a deep rut at an angle of 90 degrees. From there on I think I did things right, but to no avail. I rocked Doris forward and backwards; I waggled the steering wheel; I spun the wheels a little to try to get some mud off; I tried all the gears. Nothing. She was stuck …and stuck.
 

Nothing to do but ashamedly call the farmer and have a cup of tea.

After 20 minutes the farmer came out complete with his tractor and we tried to tow poor old Doris out. I had a sinking feeling as I watched the the tractor’s wheels spin round and round. This wasn’t normal mud. It was a clay based, sticky, horrible mire. “She ain’t goin’ nowhere.” I’ll wait for the summer then. Should be dry enough to drive out by then!

How’s about a tandem tow? The farmer agreed and went off to get another 4×4 and his son; meanwhile I collected some dead branches to act as traction and started to dig with my trusty folding shovel. I always keep a shovel in the back of the 4×4. At least I got something right!

Another twenty minutes later, and we were ready. The farmer had changed the tractor for his own 4×4 and his son brought his. You must imagine a quite proposterous sight of a Land Rover towing a Land Rover towing a Land Rover. Needless to say I had no time to take pretty pictures after the original one above.

At last, Doris started to move and out of the rut she came. We didn’t stop until we found some relatively hard ground. That will definately cost me a crate of beer but apart from that and my pride, nothing was harmed. Hence I now issue Pablo’s off road driving tips for mud:

Follow ruts; don’t go against them.
Keep moving - don’t stop for nowt.
Spin the wheels to get rid of mud; but only do this when moving.
If you do come to a halt, rock the vehicle backwards and forwards.
If you stop, turn the steering wheel alternatively left and right about an eighth of a turn each way.
Let the tyres down so there’s more traction.
Always carry a spade.
Use branches, clothes or anything else under the wheels to act traction.
2nd gear and low diff is good, but try other gears as well.
If all else fails - have a nice cup of tea and await rescue.
Be prepared to relinquish beer.
Wash off all mud from underneath the vehicle as soon as possible. Dried mud will get into the moving parts and possibly damage the vehicle.

Pablo.