Pablo’s Woodlife

11 Feb

I’ve put the date on these posts as I’ve had no internet connection for 6 weeks. I’m publishing these posts all at once. Feel free to read this and the previous two which should bring you up to date.

I started my walk with the (now) usual creeping about in West wood looking out for the deer or the foxes. No luck today, so I turned my attention to tracking as the ground was quite wet.

I walked through to East wood, where I spotted some fur on the ground. It was quite obviously rabbit fur but low and behold I noticed what I’m sure was a badger print. There are definite claw marks, but I can’t tell whether they are hind or front paws.

Again I was quite pleased with the finding. In the small wood, there seems to be deer, foxes and badger that frequent the woods. All I have to do now is find the sett or dens.

Although the temperature was about 5 C, the easterly wind was very cold…too cold to sit around and enjoy the view or partake in any bushcraft skills. The rest of the country is covered in snow as a cold spell hits the UK, but nothing this far east, apart from a few flurries. At least we’ve had some much needed rain the last couple days.

I’m still experimenting with how much kit to take a what to carry (and what to carry it in). At the moment, I’m using a small daysack (about 15 litres capacity) from Eurohike. I’m carrying a few basic tools in that (axe and folding saw) and some extra cold weather kit. I’m also using a small lightweight camera case containing binos, camera and journal (and a litre of water). I couldn’t resist buying a 55 litre backpack (again by Eurohike) from Millets at a bargain price of £23. I’ll try this out next time after I receive my tarp and Swedish Army Cookset I recently ordered.

I decided to try and find the badger sett. I knew it couldn’t be too far away because of the tracks I found a couple of weeks ago. I walked out of the woods and across the tarmac track and into a fielded area. The area has a few earth banks but apart from that it’s very open. The first thing that drew me to a certain bank was the obvious meandering tracks leading from a path to a certain earth bank. A sure sign of a badger track. All I had to do was notice where the track finished on the base of the bank. Low and behold, a whole load of fresh straw bedding on the side of the earth bank. On further exploration on the side of the bank, I found a good 7 entrances and the normal latrine pits nearby. These contained fresh spoor and confirmed that the sett was still active. The area is quite accessible and I should be able to watch the badgers in April and May.

On the way back I spotted the male fox (pretty sure it was the same one as a couple of weeks ago – very dark coat). He ran off to the east and simply disappeared from view. I found this quite strange as there was a wire fence surrounding the area. I searched the area to see where the hole in the fence was, but couldn’t find it. It was only then I realised that he must have gone to ground. Again, after a couple of minutes searching (must be my lucky day) I found a vertical hole in the ground, large enough for a fox. On closer inspection, I saw a paw print at the bottom of the hole. I set up my camera a few yards away and downwind to see if he would emerge. After 30 mins or so I gave up and started home. There was no sign.

Even though there was no bushcraft today, I was pleased with the sett and fox earth I’d discovered. This should set me up for some good mammal watching in spring.

Even though there have been a few downpours, the temperature has remained in the 20c’s and when the sun does come out, it is really warm. It’s not surprising that there are still quite a few butterflies and dragonflies about. The large red has followed me around since late June, and they are still flying about usually in tandem. The damp ground provides ideal conditions for tracking and the last couple of weekends but especially this weekend I’ve spent some time with my nose in the dirt (or ‘dirt time’ as trackers put it).

I made a tracking stick at the bushmoot and it’s been drying out nicely. Recently, I cut notches in it to make measuring easy and to save taking a ruler or tape measure with me. I think I’ve already said that although certainly not an expert, I consider tracking a skill that I haven’t lost over the years. I used to practice regularly enjoying the challenge of identifying prints, following and identifying trails and examining feeding and kill sites. I even achieved minor local celebrity status when I assisted in searching and finding a ‘missing’ child.

My old house backed onto acres of National Trust woodland in Surrey. A neighbour’s kid decided to go walkabouts and the report stated that he was lost. As dusk approached, I helped organise the police search (as I knew the area like the back of my hand). I managed to pick up a small footmark and making a number of assumptions based on ‘if I were a kid’ we caught up with the youngster. I guessed that he was on his way home which made the track easier. My assumption was right. He actually wasn’t lost at all, appeared to know exactly where he was and was indeed on his way home. He’d just lost track of time as they do.

I didn’t know about tracking sticks then and it might well have assisted. The idea behind the stick is simple. There MUST be a print (however faint) somewhere on the ground once you’ve measured and marked the length of the stride on the stick (by moving the elastic bands). Put that mark on the last easily visible print and the stick will show you where the next print is. All you have to do is find it. A better desciption is here if you want to know more. There’s also a link to animal tracking on my links to the right.

It helps to know what your track feeds on, its habits and usual paths a trails. I can see how some trackers like get into the mind of the subject. This is the more spiritual side of tracking and it comes back to the “If I were a …what would I do.” There are several books on tracking. Apparently some of the best are by Tom Brown, but I’ve not read any as yet. The one I’m using at the moment is Animal Tracks and Signs by Preben Bang.

The prints around the area I were I was tracking today came down to Muntjac and rabbits, although I’ve previously seen badger and fox tracks. Once the track leads into the wood, it’s extremely difficult to follow with leaf litter and ground debris. Spiritual tracking takes over here with the help of runs, trails and feeding signs. I rarely have any luck following a track to its conclusion in other words actually spotting the animal. It’s fun trying though.

I finished my outing today by setting up my tarp and bivvi bag. It looked like rain so I set up the tarp close to the ground. After lunch (back to using the SA Trangia) I couldn’t resist climbing into the bivvi bag and having a snooze. The Thermarest is so comfortable; I didn’t feel any lumps or bumps underneath the bivvi bag at all. A definite A1 purchase. No wonder I fell straight to sleep.

If I tell you that normally nothing can get in my woods that’s larger than a fox, you will just have to take my word for it. I’ll leave you to work out some hypothesis as to why this is. There are in fact badgers, foxes and mutjac, but they have been there for a considerable number of years. Imagine my surprise when over the holidays I saw these tracks (photo above). Larger than a muntjac, possibly a Roe deer and probably a Fallow deer. Strangely enough, I didn’t think too much about it at the time. I thought that I had just made a mistake. It’s the kind of mind set you get into when you just know that there can’t be any of these animals in these woods. Other local woods, yes. These woods, no. Your mind just won’t accept it. This, I would suggest, is not a good attitude to have when nature is at her most confusing. But the more I thought about it, the more I knew that these weren’t just normal mutjac tracks. Today I was going to find out.

Armed with my tracking stick, day pack, cheese and small flask of tea I set out in the pouring rain to find out exactly whether I had a newcomer in the woods or not. I quickly found the original tracks and measured them. These have got to be Roe or Fallow deer. And there were lots! The tracks were quickly filling up with water from the rain, so I followed the tracks, which were quite easy to spot in the mud. They were in fact so easy to see that I didn’t really need the tracking stick. I left it stuck in an easy to find spot and extracted the camera from my shoulder bag. I had swapped the beige canvass shoulder bag for the more waterproof German army gas mask bag. I’m please I did otherwise the camera would have been ruined.

The tracks led into the wood, but I felt compelled for some reason to follow the mud path along the outskirts of the wood. I had read about browse lines, so I thought I would keep to the outskirts for now. This decision turned out to be a good one. 50 yards ahead and to the right, a head popped out of the small bushes. I froze… it froze, then there was a flurry of movement. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 Fallow deer leapt out of the bushes and into the wood. 5 Fallow deer! It all happened so quickly, I couldn’t tell male from female or distinguish any sizes, except for one. Amazingly, she ran back across the track and back to where she came and finally walked back out nonchalantly to face me on the path. I was almost shaking as I slowly brought the camera up to the aim. Gotcha! (albeit a very damp and blurry looking photo). We stared at each other for a good minute until the other 4 came bounding (and I mean prancing) back out of the woods and into the bushes whence they came and out of sight.

It was now my mission to track them. However (and to cut a long story short) despite an hour tracking getting wetter and wetter and colder and colder, I completely lost them. I’m pretty sure they ran completely out of the woods and across the nearest field. I was still elated to have seen them and to have proved my theory that there was indeed something in the woods.

It was time for a bit of lunch. I hadn’t brought the tarp and it was still raining hard. I had brought a poncho, but hadn’t worn it because of the noise it makes while walking. I rigged it up as a quick shelter and sat down to a cup of tea and some cheese. It wasn’t long before I realised I had made a fundamental error. The hood from the poncho hadn’t been tied and I hadn’t angled the poncho to let the rain run off. The result? A full soaking despite the excellent water-resistance of the Tilley T3. Now I was very wet and it wasn’t long before I was getting very cold. The van was just a minutes walk away, but I decided to make this a little test of what I would do if I was really stuck in this situation.

You can read about what I did (and what I didn’t) mid week. Thanks for the visit.

Pablo

It was when I was searching for the deer last Saturday that I found this (photo). I was following the deer tracks on the north west side of the wood.

Between the north edge of the woods and a single tree line of willow, there is a long, narrow track. Lying on the side of this track, I found the leg. My first thoughts were that of a fox. There isn’t a fox earth in the woods, but I had seen many foxes in the area. Significantly (or not as the case may be) some appear to have a limp (see last Jan post).

I searched the vicinity, but couldn’t find any evidence as to how this came about. There was no blood, no other fur, no other parts, and more importantly no other tracks that might have given me a clue of what happened. I certainly haven’t seen any traps in the area either.

I’m not an expert by any means, but it appears the leg had not been severed cleanly. There are no teeth marks on what’s left either. As to how it arrived at this particular spot I can only guess at it being dropped by a carrion eating bird. I looked up at the nearby rookery and wondered if the rooks could in fact manage to carry what might be (for them) quite a weight in their beaks. How far would they have carried it? I have seen a couple of Buzzards in the area, but I’ve never seen them land in the area.

There were too many questions. I have to get some assistance on this one, so I’ve posed the conundrum to the folks on BCUK. I’ll post an update on their theories next week sometime. One thing I have since realised is that the leg of a fox is very dark, almost black. This leg doesn’t look that dark, so it could possible be a small dog. Intriguing; gruesome, but intriguing.

Pablo.

I returned from Shadowhawk’s tracking course at Canonteigne on Monday mentally and physically tired, wet, but elated. It’s easy to over-enthuse about a course when you’ve just finished it, so before I tell you more about it, I’ll just let it all sink in. But the first impressions are that it was an amazing, eye-opening course that exceeded all my expectations. Before I went on the course, I jotted down the following ramblings but never got round to posting it. I have to post it now, because it seems so relevant to the last few days.

I sometimes feel guilty when I go to the woods and do nothing. One of my favourite pastimes is just to lie back in the hammock and do nothing but listen to the sounds of the wood or sit and watch. I’ve recently reflected that my excuse for this apparent idleness is that I consider it a kind of spiritual Bushcraft.

People who have gone on tracking courses have realised that getting psychologically deep into your surroundings can indeed increase your awareness. I’ve always been an advocate of keeping still and quiet and letting the wildlife come to you instead of tramping noisily through the wood in attempt to spot it. I also believe that we aren’t just visitors to the woods. At some stage in the distant past before we cleared the ancient woods and cleared land for agriculture we were actually part of its makeup. It provided for us. We hunted, foraged and in some cases lived in it. We utilised its resources and we were part of it. Why should that native status be revoked now?

I’ve been trying to develop this further and explore what I describe as a ‘Oneness’ with the wood. Is it really possible to ‘re-learn’ lost abilities such as increasing one’s peripheral vision and improving hearing? Is it also possible to notice micro signs of life, see tracks and trails never seen before, spot minor disturbances in the landscape and make educated guesses at what the quarry was doing or where it was going?

I have certainly realised that by sitting still on the ground, the less shy incumbents of the wood very quickly become used to you. First the insects return followed by the bird life. Many come particularly close and often Wrens, Robins and Squirrels are not much further than an arm reach away. Sounds are enhanced you fall into a kind of meditative state and you drift down and down into near sleep mode. The slightest movement attracts your attention, but you learn not to spin round suddenly, but use your peripheral vision that undoubtedly picked up the movement in the first place. Smooth, small and slow movements replace the sudden erratic jerky ones of our modern day living. Even smells become enhanced as you pick up a scent on the breeze (albeit a strong scent of a group of certain wild flowers or the pungent smell of a fox) but a scent nevertheless. I’ve yet to see the woods open up into a veritable narrative of woodland activity, but perhaps this is the first stage of developing a greater awareness of my surroundings.
How right I was and how much more there is. I’ll post part 2 later.

Right. Back to reality. My kit is now clean, dried and ready to be packed for the Bushmoot. (It’s all go isn’t it?) There’s quite a few adjustments for the moot. There will be more kit to take solely because it will be good to “show and tell” and compare different pieces of kit with others at the moot. The archery kit will be coming along as well as the bow drill and other odds and ends (and perhaps a few cans of beer). I’ll take the DD camping hammock (which worked really well for me at Canonteigne) and I’ll be trying out the travel hammock (with mossy net) as well. For a bit more comfort I’ll also take along the folding camping chair. Unlike last year where I considered the Bushmoot a minimal kit excursion, this year I’ll take a more relaxed approach.

My main aims for the moot are to crack the hand drill, learn some more knots, improve my knife sharpening and improve tree ID. Anything else will be a bonus.

See you when I get back. Thanks for the visit.

Pablo.

I’ve now had time to reflect on Shadowhawk’s foundation and intermediate tracking course in Devon. A previous post shared my thoughts before I went on the course. I knew what it was about, but not 100% sure what to expect. What I can say without over-enthusing is that it was undoubtedly an eye-opener and exceeded all my expectations. I’ve completed more courses than I care to mention, both in the military and within law-enforcement circles and I can honestly say this has been one of the tops.

I’m a bit of a sceptic. I don’t take many things at face value and I like to see solid evidence. Not only that, I only truly believe things are possible to mere mortals when I can do them; a sort of self-skepticism I suppose. It’s only when you understand this that you start to realise how amazing this course was for me personally. I’ve never said, “I can’t do that”, without giving it a go, but I really thought, “I couldn’t possibly do that”, after hearing what we would be expected to achieve.

But I did achieve it, as did all the other participants I talked to. This made the course accessible to all ages, genders, skill levels and backgrounds. I gained increased awareness and visualisation not to mention the beginnings of the more technical aspects of tracking. I say “the beginnings” because, of course, it will be an evolving process to enhance this art and refine newly acquired skills. You can’t return for an advanced course until you’ve got some “dirt-time” in.

I was pleased to have already defined a few aspects such as this increased awareness and a “one-ness” with the woods – terms that were used on the course; but to actually know what and why you’re doing it is a definite bonus. ‘Zoning-in’, as described in Ian ‘Max’ Maxwell’s book is the foundation or anvil for everything to do with increased awareness and subsequent successful tracking. From then on, it’s like “… turning up the brightness on a light bulb”. The course took this to another level that I personally (and a few other course members I talked to) described as having “felt” (as in a feeling). Perhaps this was the amalgamation of all the senses working as one or a “one-sense”. Some would say sixth-sense. This was a very ethereal feeling and it’s not surprising that in some countries tracking is described as a spiritual gift – a myth firmly and rightly dispelled by Shadowhawk.

By the 3rd day we’d learned the basics of track identification, gaits, action indicators and a host of other terms. We looked at tracks at night; we were tracking at speed (on the run), tracking in teams and tracking on pine needles. More than a little ‘scenes of crime’ and detective work was evident (something that I perhaps appreciated more than others) as this and tracking can be pretty much synonymous. Shadowhawk also run Lost Person procedures and Search and Rescue to Law Enforcement agencies.

By the 4th day, we were peeling back layers to identify the age of a track. Even though I didn’t see everything that everyone saw (and I know I saw things others didn’t) I started to believe. I also believed everything Max Maxwell told me in his “switch on intense; switch on light-hearted” way. He said some people became quite emotional when they had either seen or felt something at close quarters in the woods. I believed it when I did exactly that.

The theory side of the instruction was pretty standard (I talk from a perhaps an over-critical point of view having been a trainer and a trainer of trainers for many years in a previous role). The board work wasn’t great, although this is quite difficult to achieve this effectively in the field, and in a mock ceremony Max handed over to me the last green pen to be used on a Shadowhawk course (hopefully!) Green light great for tracking – green pen not great for teaching. On a positive note, the theory sessions were relative to the subject. They were short, unpretentious and thankfully not too anecdotal but enough to make you think that these were reasons why you wanted to learn how to track.

The practical elements were very much in a style that I have used, allowing the students to discover things for themselves and merely assist or facilitate the learning. “You’ve got an interesting bit there,” said Max. “Lot’s going on”, as I stared disbelievingly at an empty piece of ground measuring 1 square foot. After half an hour, with a bit of encouragement, I was not only able to describe what was going on (although I couldn’t interpret it) but I also did actually find it interesting! The exercises were realistic, enlightening and fun but not childish or demeaning in any way and certainly emphasised or introduced learning points. It was pleasing to see debriefs of every practical activity although a full debriefing model wasn’t quite apparent, thereby missing opportunities to really highlight or reinforce developmental points.

Most of us cooked our self-catering meals around a communal fire and the tree-dwellers (including me) hammocked on quite a steep slope. Ground dwellers found it difficult to find flat ground. Water was imported in by vehicle but there was always plenty of it. Tea and coffee were the only things supplied – but there was always hot water on the go for brews. Shovel patrol was the order of the day for conveniences. Gents to the left – ladies to the right. An absent spade meant the ‘facility’ was occupied.

What down-time there was was a relaxed affair. Some went to their hammocks; some partook in the inevitable kit discussions. (“Any one got a knife?”) Most listened to Max. Not far away were impressive views of Canonoteigne valley and the waterfalls and we had a few hours to ourselves to explore or track where we wanted. Most of the time however we were immersed in dirt and foliage which would be our interest for the duration of the four days. The other participants flung themselves (as I did) into getting the most out of the experience, which was a bonus. We worked late, had little sleep and sometimes worked through a mealtime. It was tiring, but we just couldn’t stop tracking.

The other instructors and mentors (most of which had just completed a 3-day advanced course and stayed on to help) were extremely patient and helpful. Awkward moments involving stressed participants were dealt with effectively and with empathy. Max ‘The Boss’ himself was obviously the key central point and he was quite brilliant in my opinion not only for his obvious tracking skills but also for his people skills and sharp humour, neither of which came across in the recent documentary “Big Cat Track” He never tired of circulating and approaching each member of the course with a beaming smile, chatting to them and making them feel like old friends.

It would be vastly unfair on the instructors and future students if I were to go into any more detail about the course. At the end of it, Max said we were trackers. In fact, he said, we have always been trackers – and I believe him.

Pablo.

Before you say anything, yes, I know the pictures aren’t good but you might understand why when you read on. Are you sitting comfortably? Then I’ll begin.

The following night, I sat in the same spot, but there was no sign. A hare came pretty close but Reynard was nowhere to be seen.

I froze. I was now in an awkward position, half turned and straining to look over my left shoulder. My neck and shoulder muscles started to ache, but I knew if I moved my body, they would be off. They were no more than 15 meters away. I didn’t realise Fallows were quite so big. I could actually hear one of them snuffling or breathing loudly. Suddenly, the doe’s head shot up. I hadn’t moved (I’m sure I hadn’t moved). She looked directly at me and skitted sideways, but then stopped. I suddenly realised that I was looking directly at her. The predatory stare. This may have spooked her. I looked down and although she was still looking at me, she allowed the youngsters to browse on. I risked a couple of slow glances up. The doe was still looking but not moving and the fawns were still browsing. All of a sudden a huge bark came from her. I was quite shocked not only at the suddenness of it, but its depth and power. I felt the vibrations straight through my body. Instead of providing the reaction she probably hoped for, I remained still and calm. The whole wood seemed to freeze. And then it was all too much probably for both of us. I twitched, she darted, barked again and off they went into the field to the south of the wood. An amazing close encounter that had lasted a good five minutes.

The long weekend (and an added day’s leave) saw me more in the woods than out. It was a weekend of peaks and troughs, which I’ll summarise here and expand on some aspects later.

On Friday afternoon I excitedly leapt into Doris the Land Rover Discovery with a 30 litre sack and enough provisions for 24 hours and hit Broaks Wood. I wanted to do some tracking in those woods and then move into Outfield Woods for the overnighter.

The tracking started well although I got a little side-tracked (!) into following an interesting pair of human boot marks. I followed those tracks for a good 500 yards on varying terrain before I completely lost them. I suddenly remembered why I was there and started to concentrate on the wildlife tracks. I knew there were Badgers in the area and I was hoping to ID and study their tracks. I wasn’t disappointed and found some prints near a small bridge. I was busy photographing and looking at the tracks when I spotted a Fallow doe (or rather she spotted me). The alarm bark went up and off she went. I left the Badger print and tried to follow the doe with absolutely no luck at all. It was from here everything started to go downhill.

I had purchased a belt rig (bum bag, fanny bag, call it what you will) with the sole intent of wearing it when tracking to dispense with the shoulder bag. I was surprised when I received it because of the wide back pad. I’ve worn belt rigs before and have found them cumbersome but this, although made out of soft material, was unbelievably uncomfortable. The width of the back pad meant if I wore it on or below the hips it kept slipping down and if I wore it above the hips, the thing came up to my chest! To top it all, when I tried to stow the tracking stick when I went after the doe the tip of the stick went straight through the thin material in the back pad. Hopeless.

As the afternoon wore on I realised that not only was the belt rig getting increasingly annoying but the rucksack was starting to bother me. I eventually put this down to too much weight in such a small bag. The rucksack wasn’t distributing the weight properly. This was me trying to be too clever I suppose. This, with the added problem of the belt rig (obviously I couldn’t use the rucksack’s hip belt) and I was starting to feel a little annoyed. I decided to call it a day at Broaks and move on to my overnight site.

At Outfield woods, I gratefully ditched the belt rig and wandered into the wood. Time was getting on and I was getting hungry. No sooner had I unpacked my food when I heard gunshots. And it was close. This was all I wanted. To top it all, the farmer on the north side of the wood decided to cut the field. What with the tractors and gunshots, I decided to bug out. This was not turning out to be such a good trip. Fearing “friendly fire” I found the only piece of orange kit I had on me, the Thermarest stuff sack, and tied it to the back of the rucksack and stepped boldly out of the wood.

Determined to salvage something out of the day, I moved into my local wood. Here I knew I wouldn’t be disturbed. At least I arrived without any further incidents although I was hot and bothered. I set up the tarp and hammock, again extracted my food and settled down to an uneventful night.

Saturday morning brought the usual cacophony of the Rooks with the added pleasure of them crapping all over my tarp. I wisely stayed under cover until they disappeared into the surrounding fields. I seriously debated going home, but the morning brought beautiful sunshine, so I moved into a sunnier part of the wood.

I decided to carve another spoon to try and relax. On this occasion I spent some time on it instead of my usual rush job. Two hours later and certainly more relaxed, I discovered that I had made probably the best spoon so far.

I’ll post events of the next 3 days on Wednesday.

See you then.

Pablo.

PS I’ve posted video about Nettles and cordage on Pablo’s Video page.

When I was following some deer at the weekend, I reflected on whether there were any differences between bushcraft and tracking philosophies. It might appear on the surface that tracking and bushcraft go hand in hand. They both involve closeness with the natural environment and an element of wilderness living. Well they do go hand in hand but only to a certain extent. This isn’t the law according to Pablo and it’s not even a law per se, but I’ve kind of deduced there are some fundamental differences in philosophies when comparing the two (apart from the obvious activity of looking at tracks.)

The average bushcrafter (and I appreciate that there are those that fall outside the norm) will carry enough kit to be comfortable. That’s what bushcraft is about – being comfortable in the natural environment. Generally a large tarp is carried; a hammock or tent, sleeping bag and perhaps a folding chair. Lamps, bright torches and cooksets are not out of place. I’ve seen more and more tipis being used and also larger camp fire utilities (cast iron Dutch ovens, fire boxes) and provisions that would feed an army not to mention liquid refreshment of the alcoholic nature in quantities that Nelson would be proud of. I would probably say that all this results in the appearance of a semi-permanent if not permanent camp. Nothing wrong with that of course, but you can imagine all that’s missing is the quick erection of a log-cabin and you have a Kephart hunting lodge.

Trackers would probably go much lighter. Of course there may be a base camp, but when actively tracking it’s a different matter. After all, modern tracking is descended from the most ancient of skills – hunting; and hunters tend to go light. Also you couldn’t just stop tracking and set up your 6 foot high tipi and slice up your side of venison on the dot of 6 pm when you’re in the middle of tracking an animal. Nor could you carry about a 60 pound Bergen for mile after mile while being out-sensed, out-manoeuvred and out-witted by deer. You rest when you can, sleep when you can (which is very little it seems) forage on the move and only when it’s convenient to the animal you’re tracking – not you. You would also only completely stop when you’ve achieved your aim. Just how this works in practice, I really haven’t got a clue, but it will be an interesting exercise to find out. There’s no doubt that all the bushcraft skills that I’ve learnt (and many more I’ve yet still to learn) will come right to the fore.

I’ve also thought there might be a number of differences in kit. A Tracker’s kit may appear to be more technical. This may well be to do with weight and space saving and definitely “function over form” instead of vice versa. Craft products, possibly an integral part of bushcraft, appears a little out of place, while the tracker might use all modern equipment at their disposal.

There are a number things I have to do if I am to look at tracking more seriously:

Firstly, I have to cut down on kit. Like everyone else (it appears) I aspire to travel as lightly as possible but this will now be a necessity. Next, I will have to learn to sleep and rest even closer to the environment than I have done previously. This will avoid detection (I guess) and increase awareness. It will probably mean a return to ground dwelling or at least dispense with all the elaborate trappings of a normal Bushcraft setup. It will also probably mean improving skills at natural shelter building and possibly back to digging scrapes and holes (Oh what joy!). I will also have to learn how to keep on the move and how to forage while keeping on the move with no more than a quick stop.

Is this a daunting prospect? You bet your a**e, but an exciting one!

Pablo.