Friday, February 1, 2019

BEBUT’S TRAIL XX: Foraging in the Rain

I GOT KIDS TO TEACH spoon carving on Saturday, March 17, 2018. I need them to carve the softest bamboo that is still green and thin. Kids have little hands and do not have the strength to slice and whittle bigger and harder bamboos. They will be using blades, you know, and that makes it very dangerous. Self-inflicted injuries cannot be discounted.

Why am I teaching children to use knives when parents forbid it? In my generation, we were also forbidden but we were taught by the elders how to use blades safely and properly. Growing up with blades taught us responsibility and we earned our first blades when it was observed that we have grown to appreciate the value of a knife in our everyday lives.

In a society that is too politically-correct, old values which tend to aid children into better adults are discarded because of unfounded fear brought on by sensationalism and by reckless movies which depict glory in blood and gory. Too bad, nobody teaches blade safety and dexterity to kids anymore except from a lone voice in the wilderness.

This is now my advocacy. In my bushcraft camps, there are no shortcuts to handling a knife without sitting all ears first to the topic about knife care and safety. But those were mostly adults and, despite that, it is still strictly supervised. How much more for children? The best age to introduce the knife to children is 7 years old and above.

Because I place good premium on safety, I would forage these green and soft bamboo poles myself. Although I have requested the host of the event to produce green bamboo poles, it might not be the kind of bamboo I meant. I have to be sure because I also put good premium on quality of instruction. These kids should be taught only the best.

On an unusually cloudy morning of March 13th, I left the comforts of home for Guadalupe. It is a Wednesday. I would just be on a very short hike on the hills where I thought I found a lot of healthy groves of bamboo. There are many species of bamboo that I have come to know of but I am only after one kind that is known by its local name: “buho”. 

When I arrive in Guadalupe, I buy a sachet of instant coffee and five bread. This would be my breakfast which I intend to enjoy somewhere over that hump that I love to call as “heartbreak ridge”. It is actually called Guadalupe Hills and there is a trail that goes over its bare back which ultimately goes into a thick forest of Banika and Baksan.

I am carrying my canvass Lifeguard USA rucksack and inside it is an aluminum Swiss Army wood burner, water in a Nalgene bottle and a repurposed Gatorade bottle, a cup, cords, a cheap laminated plaid-nylon sheet, a Cold Steel Bushman, a William Rodgers Bushlore, a Victorinox Trailmaster, my fire kit, extra t-shirt, my “wildlife kit” and a folding “SOP”.

 
The SOP means “seat of power” and is nothing more than a folding seat. When you are now in your middle ages, seating is way comfortable than squatting on the ground. I found it very comfortable when I am working with a fire to cook food or boil water for coffee. I just bring this in short hikes because it is heavy but I have done it lately on extended hikes.

The wildlife kit is a new addition to my usual dayhike load. It is composed of a journal, a waterproof notebook, a ballpen, a pencil, magnifying glass, a ruler and a tape measure, all placed inside a handbag. This is my tool to find and document animal trails in Cebu, whether it is about farm animals, pets or wildlife. Another project in the making.

The weather is very mild today yet two days before I was complaining to myself that it was unusually warm. It was that time I was guiding people on the Babag Mountain Range which is visible from where I stand now on “heartbreak ridge”. The ground is partially wet since it rained lightly here hours before.

Arriving on the outskirts of the forest, precipitation materializes, dampening the mood of the day. Drops of rain fall on my clothes and shoes, totally getting me wet. I cannot stop just because it is raining. Until I found a good and healthy grove of bamboo. There are many visible from the trail but it is not what I desire.

I transfer to another path which I seldom take and found one in the innermost part of the forest. The rain does not bother too much now under thick foliage and so I set up camp near the bamboo. From my bag, I splay on the ground the cheap sheet and place all my things over it. The SOP is the last item I remove and I sit for a while to stare at the bamboos.

As an advocate of ethical bushcraft, you do not cut wantonly any member of a plant you desire. In this case, a bamboo. I study the poles. There are straight ones that reach to the top of the forest cover and there are a few who bow to the will of gravity. I do not need a thick pole, long and full of strength. What I need is a tender one that is thin and soft.

I found what I was looking for and marked it. Then I turn to the business of boiling water for coffee. Light breakfast first. Although it is raining, we in bushcraft (I taught a lot of people), could make fire under any circumstances. We could find dry firewood and tinder in wet conditions and light it up with a single matchstick or with a gas lighter.

With dry twigs and a sliver of paper, a fire came alive within the confines of the Swiss Army burner. I place the stainless-steel cup with water over the rim of the blazing burner and wait for the tell-tale bubbles on the bottom of the cup to appear. If you want it quick, do away the roiling bubbling moment and save time and fuel. In five minutes I have my coffee.

After finishing the five bread and coffee, I pick up a tool most suited for this kind of work: the saw. The bamboo pole I choose is not thick and it does not need brute force to remove it from the rest. The saw-teeth design of the Victorinox Trailmaster, or any Swiss Army Knife for that matter, is a very efficient cutting tool, better than other makes.

I cut an inch above the culm on the lowest part of the pole I choose and the rest of the pole come crashing down to earth. With the Cold Steel Bushmaster, I cut away the branches, the thick bottom and the topmost part where it is most narrow. Dividing the pole into five parts, I let the Trailmaster do its efficient and neat cutting work.

I now got my five poles at about 2 meters each and I believe it would be enough for my class four days from now. I secured all together with timber hitches on both ends for easy carrying. This bamboo variety is very light and hefting on one shoulder is no big deal, especially on a very slippery downhill trail.

I am much satisfied with my foraging work and, slowly, I stow all my things back to my bag. Thanking the place for accepting my intrusion, to include the disturbance. I keep it tidy as possible. I keep the cut branches mixed in with the foliage above while the rest of the unneeded parts, I place it inside a hollow trunk of a tree.

As expected, the path is slippery for it is smooth limestone. My Jack Wolfskin pair tried its best to grip the ground and it had succeeded because I deem to walk slow. It is still raining and a spray of water just slapped my face after I had taken a selfie. Nevertheless, this foraging work is not finished, not until I reach home.

I always give my best when I am teaching people. That means I make things happen that is beyond the scope of my work. That extra mile, that extra effort, is what people want although they do not know it and, likewise, do justice to the bread that they pay you for a glimpse of unconventional education that they yearn from you.

Document done in LibreOffice 5.3 Writer

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