Pablo’s Woodlife: Wildlife, Tracking and Bushcraft

…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.

I’d just like pay tribute to a good friend who will be retiring shortly. Stan has been a constant companion on my Bushcraft excursions. He’s carried my kit, provided me shelter on occasions and has endured everything I’ve thrown at him. He assisted me on the first tentative steps into the Bushcraft world, and although we consider each other wordly-wise, (we’ve both been around a bit and both done a few miles – round the clock as they say) we stepped off together into the unknown world of Bushcraft. But he’s not getting any younger. In fact he’s falling apart. After a number of operations it’s no longer viable to keep him going.

Yes… Stan the van is retiring to the great Ford Transit care home in the sky. But who will be my new companion? Can I introduce to you - Doris. Doris the Land Rover Discovery. At a youthful 90,000 miles, Doris will now take Stan’s place and our adventures will continue to new reaches were Stan would never dare to tread. Doris’ Four-wheel drive and HI-Lo gear capability will surely surpass Stan’s slipping clutch. Her superb all round vision will far exceed Stan’s damp and dark interior and her rear collapsible in-built side seats will exude luxury compared to Stan’s folding camp chair.

But it gets better. No longer will my colleagues snigger at the sight of me driving a 19 year old rusty van. No longer will they have to cover their ears way before I drive into view. No longer will they make detrimental comments and refer to travelling folk and gentlemen who drive white vans (all this to the back of their hands I hasten to add).

“Ah!” I hear you cry. “What about your kit? You know the stuff that you don’t bring in the house and store within Stan’s capacious interior.” Well, yes it’s true that I use Stan as a kind of kit storage container. The bulky stuff I don’t need day-to-day. The additional Trangia stove, the odd extendable bivvi pole, the folding chairs, the folding table, the larger meths container, the walking stick collection, the bow, the folding shovel, the spare water container, the odd ration pack, the collasible fire bowl and other stuff for a more permanent camp.

Yes, this could be a problem. I’ve managed to put most of the stuff in a plastic container and the folding chair and bow is stuffed behind this. There’ just enough room for a rucksack and dirty walking boots. Extended excursions will require the rear seats folding forward. Then we’re talking space.

So how does she perform? Obviously I’ve not done too much so far. I’ve taken her around the edge of the local field and over a couple of pretty steep and muddy embankment. No problem. Didn’t even break into a sweat. The Disco that is… I did.

Naturally this weekend, it’s been a matter of local ’safaris’ and little bushcrafting. But hey. What would you do? Doris the Discovery. The ultimate bushcraft toy! Still, spare a thought for Stan.

See you soon.

Pablo.