You are currently viewing all posts in the general category.
I’ve changed my jabber account to pigmonkey@jabber.org. The old account is no longer active.
The jabber.org server doesn’t support transports, so I am no longer reachable through the old ICQ or AIM accounts. All the contacts I actually speak with seem to be on XMPP, so that shouldn’t matter.
This past weekend I took a walk out to the Chuckanuts, visiting the same spot Avagdu, HatterOfMaddnesz, and I visited a couple months prior. The ice had disappeared from the lake by now. I opted to pitch my tarp up at the viewpoint above the lake, which had caught my fancy last time around. The sun was out and not a drop of rain fell from the sky for both days, making for a pleasant contrast with the last few trips I’ve taken. In the evening I could watch the sun set over the San Juan islands in the west, and the following morning watch the sun rise over Mt. Baker to the east.
I set my Kifaru Paratarp up in an elevated manner, opting to rig it to trees with paracord rather than using my trekking poles underneath. This makes for a huge amount of living space underneath.
On the way out, I made a detour to Raptor Ridge, another nearby viewpoint that I had been unable to visit on the outing with Avagdu and Hatterz.
After fixing a small breakfast and soaking in the view, I finished the 12-ish mile hike home, munching on the odd Stinging Nettle leaf plucked from the side of the trail and pondering butterflies.
High carbon steels have a tendency to rust without proper care. This is especially true of knives made from O1 tool steel, such as my BCNW-O1.
A patina is a thin film that develops on some metals due to oxidation. It is a type of rust, but a good one, that protects the blade rather than corroding and eating away at the metal. Over time, most knives will develop a patina, regardless of the material that they’re made from. Many people are attracted to the distinctive and aged look that a patina imparts onto a knife, and will make an effort to force a patina onto their blades. The easiest way to do so is to use the knife to prepare acidic foods: potatoes, onions, tomatoes, pickles, and the like all work well. Some people will soak a rag in vinegar and wrap it around the blade, or coat the blade with mustard and leave it overnight.
I wanted to force a patina onto my BCNW-O1, for both the aged look and the extra protection that it gives. The first step I took was to take a slightly-moldy potato out of my fridge and stab the blade into it, up to the handle. I left this in overnight. In the morning, I took the blade out, rinsed it, and stabbed it into another spot on the potato. I repeated this through-out the day, leaving the blade in one spot for a few hours at a time. This sort of approach adds a multi-layered texture to the patina.
After the blade had been in and out of the potato for about 24 hours, I tossed the potato, cleaned the knife, and used it to slice an orange. After the orange was sliced, I left the knife on the plate with the orange as I ate, so that the juices could soak into the blade a bit. After this, I rinsed and dried the blade again, then sliced another orange the next day.
I figured all of this would probably be good enough, so, after slicing the final orange, I rinsed the blade once more, then gave it a good scrubbing with a soapy sponge to clean off any bacteria that might be growing on it after all the exposure to food. This removed a lot of the rust – more than I thought it would – but, after I dried the knife off, I had a beautiful patina on the blade.
Since the patina is a type of rust, it does eat away the sharp edge of the knife a bit. So, after it was all clean, I gave the knife a session on my 6000 grit japanese water stone, which sharpened it back up again.
Usually after the sharpening the knife, I coat it in camellia oil, which was used in Japan by samurais to protect their blades. It is a non-toxic oil that is often used for skin care, and can even be cooked with, so I have no problem using it on a knife that I will prepare food with and eat with. The main purpose of the oil is to protect the blade from rust so, with the patina applied, it is not strictly as necessary as before. Still, I apply it so that both it and the patina can ward away any bad rust.
Using a fine-grit Japanese water stone with a nagura stone to sharpen the blade creates a slightly abrasive cleaner that can be purposefully rubbed into the blade to clean off the beginnings of a patina, if one so desires. I do not do this on purpose, but I have sharpened my knife multiple times since applying the patina and, as a result, the bevel of the blade is much shinier and less-rusted than the upper part.
You can tell this patina is forced, because it terminates at the handle (I couldn’t stab it into the potato any deeper!) of the BCNW-O1. The exposed part of the tang is shiny clean, like new.
Today was forecast to be 65 degrees Fahrenheit and sunny. Of course, that meant I had to go on a hike. To celebrate the weather, I decided to do the hike in my Nomadic State of Mind JC rope sandals, which I’ve previously mentioned elsewhere.
I was given the sandals a few years ago and always toss them in my pack when traveling in warmer climates. They’re light enough to not weight down the pack, and function as excellent camp shoes at the end of the day. I’ve never done any serious hiking with them though, and I wanted to see how capable they (and I) were.
I ended up doing a 15 mile hike. Towards the end, the balls of both my feet felt a little sore. They feel as if they’re developing a new callus (good thing) rather than a blister (bad thing).
I think it’s a healthy habit to do a hike every now and again with minimal-to-no foot support (such as barefoot, or with sandals similar to these). We all know that shoes are supposed to be bad things. If you’re the type who wears 6” or taller boots everyday, it’s especially important. Combat boots provide so much support for the foot and ankle that the muscles and tendons don’t have to do any work. They waste away. Walking with less supportive footwear will allow your feet to develop to a more healthful level.
For myself, I was surprised to find that the muscles in my lower back seemed to get the greatest workout. I usually have very bad posture, but walking with the sandals, for some reason, forced me to stand straighter than usual.
I decided to bring the Kifaru E&E instead of my normal EDC pack to cut down on weight. Here’s what I carried in it:
...most of my townsmen would fain walk sometimes, as I do, but they cannot. No wealth can buy the requisite leisure, freedom, and independence, which are the capital in this profession. It comes only by the grace of God. It requires a direct dispensation from heaven to become a walker. You must be born into the family of the Walkers. Ambulator nascitur, non fit. Some of my townsmen, it is true, can remember, and have described to me some walks which they took ten years ago, in which they were so blessed as to lose themselves for half an hour in the woods, but I know very well that they have confined themselves to the highway ever since, whatever pretensions they may make to belong to this select class. No doubt, they were elevated for a moment as by the reminiscence of a previous state of existence, when even they were foresters and outlaws. Henry David Thoreau
I have refrained from posting gear lists from my travels here mostly out of laziness, but partly because of a fear that they will be taken as absolute. The gear that I pack varies greatly from trip to trip. The type of travel, duration, terrain, and anticipated weather all factor into what I pack. On top of this, I always experiment with different gear and different configurations, seeking the best of both. Thus, my gear will differ even on nearly identical trips.
I should also note that I pack with an eye towards preparedness. That is to say that, for me, the only difference between 3 days and 30 days is the amount of food, and I’m not going to be carrying 30 days worth of food, anyway.
Still, people have expressed interest in what I pack, and I know that I do appreciate it when others whom I respect post their pack lists. So, here is the list from my last trip. The trip was 7 days long, and included about 85 miles of travel on dirt trails, paved roads, and bushwhacking. The route was never what I would call true wilderness or backcountry, meaning that I was always within one days walk of an urban area – and by urban I mean what is probably rural by most standards. The route also took me directly through small towns, which allowed me to restock on food.
I performed the trip over the last week of March. Days got up to around 45 degrees Fahrenheit, with nights around 35. Days were unusually dry (which meant it misted constantly, but didn’t actually rain). During the night, it did rain, but not terribly hard. On the first night, which was at about 1700 feet, it snowed. (The rest of the hike was through valleys and along the coast, so the elevation was well below 1000 feet.) In all, this pack list is a good representation of what I will choose to carry in Winter, not Spring. In the deep, dark of Winter, I will probably carry a few more layers of clothing and switch out some of the lighter garments for heavier ones, but, other than that, this list represents a more-or-less standard pack list for a one week journey in a Cascadian Winter, below elevation.
I do not have a reliable scale, so I cannot weigh my gear. All in all, I’d estimate the pack to be at about 45 lbs.
I’m compiling this list a few days after returning from the trip. I have already unpacked about half the items, so I may have missed something, but the bulk of the gear is certainly here. If you have any questions, or notice any stark absences, feel free to comment. Ideally, I would create a pack list as I’m packing, before the trip. Maybe next time…
The list is subdivided into two sections: what I wore on my body and what I carried in my pack. In the pack section, I decided to separate out what was carried in the lid (called an XTL), which detaches to become a man-purse and so also functions as a sort of escape and evasion bag (or a bail-out bag for the bail-out bag) and the body of the ZXR itself. Otherwise, I have not distinguished between what is carried in the main compartment, the slot pockets, or mounted on the belt. The clothing consists of three main insulating layers: a light wool shirt, a fleece vest, and a lightweight fleece jacket. These three would, of course, alternate between my body and my pack depending on where I was and what I was doing. During most of the hiking, I wore the wool shirt and packed the other two.
Despite investing a lot of money into my footwear, thrashing them heavily, and depending on them to carry me further, I’ve never spent any effort on cleaning or caring for my boots. A month or so ago, I was in REI and took a gander at the footwear section. They happened to have a pair of Lowa Renegades on the rack. The Renegades remain my primary boots that I wear on a daily basis and for the vast majority of my travel. I was shocked by the contrast of the boots on my feet and those on the rack. The boots are made of nubuk leather with some cordura around the ankle band. New, the leather is of a smooth, dark blue color. The leather on my feet was dry, wrinkly, and of a brownish-green color. This made me think that maybe there was something to that whole boot care thing, after all.
I didn’t know much about leather care, nor what I should look for in a product. My first stop for research like this is the Kifaru Forums. The forums are peopled predominantly by those whom I think of as the modern day longhunters and mountain men. I take their gear advice very seriously in considering all of my purchases. The overwhelming opinion on the forums was for a product called Obenauf’s. Obenauf’s makes three relevant products: White Jaguar Leather Cleaner, Leather Oil, and Heavy Duty Leather Preservative (LP). The LP, in particular, was developed for and by wildland fire firefighters. What with the hiking, the heat, and the smoke, I can’t think of any other profession that demands more out of leather boots. I promptly placed an order for $50 worth of product.
After a week-long trek, my boots were soaked through and caked with mud. I was looking forward to trying out my new Obenauf’s products. The first thing I did was remove the Sole insoles (which I clean separately) and attack the boots with a hose, blasting the mud off the outsides and flooding the inside. After about half a day on a boot dryer, the boots were dry, both inside and out, and had returned to the familiar dry, wrinkly, brownish-green color.
The first product I used was the White Jaguar Leather Cleaner. They claim the cleaner is a water based solution of natural plant ingredients. As such, it is non-toxic and biodegradable. Obenauf’s recommendation is to spray some of the cleaner onto an applicator, such as cloth, sponge, or soft-bristles brush. Then work it into the boot with a soft, circular motion, which lifts the dirt, and finally wipe the dirt off with a clean cloth. They warn against soaking the applicator. I found that this did not work very good at all on the nubuk leather. Instead, I sprayed the cleaner directly onto the boots, soaking them thoroughly but stopping just before the point where the cleaner would begin to run. Having soaked the boots, I worked the leather with a nail brush, making circular motions to lift the dirt off. I then wiped off the dirt with a clean cloth. This worked much better than the recommended method. I repeated the process 4 times on each boot, till the dirt stopped coming off.
I’m not sure if the White Jaguar cleaner is in any way superior to, say, a sudsy bath of Dr. Bronner’s, which is the soap I use on everything else. This would clean the cordura as well, and I can’t imagine it would do much harm to the leather. I will probably try this method next time for comparison.
Regardless of which cleaner is used, the leather will now be very dry and free of all oils, which must be addressed. Obenauf’s says of leather that “it’s a skin, with fibers and pores that requires proper natural lubrication and needs to breathe. Because it no longer has a body to provide proper natural oils, we must.” They claim that other products “soften by weakening or decomposing the fibers and they waterproof by sealing the pores.” Their own product, by contrast, is a combination of natural oils that maintains and preserves the leather’s natural properties.
They recommend applying the oil at a temperature of 75 degrees Fahrenheit or higher. The ambient temperature when I was doing this was around 45 degrees. I decided to hit the boots with a hair-dryer to warm up the leather a bit before the application. Then I applied the oil to the boots, lobbing it on in obscene amounts. One coating per boot, then I went over both of them with the hair-dryer again to encourage the oil to soak in. Obenauf’s recommends two coatings approximately one hour apart. Because my boots took so long to dry after the encounter with the hose, it was rather late after the first oiling, so I left the boots to soak overnight and went to bed. In the morning, I did a second application the same as before, treating the leather to the hair-dryer both before and after. After this, I let the boots set another hour, then lightly wiped off any excess with a cloth.
If you’re a masochist and appreciate ugly, attention-grabbing footwear, you could also use this oil to buff the leather to a shine.
The transformation of the leather was amazing. Save for a few scuff marks here and there, the boots look identical to the brand new pair that caught my eye on the store shelf. They’ve returned to the dark, rich blue color and no longer look so dry and chapped.
The third step, for long term preservation, was the application of the leather preservative. The LP is made of three different natural oils that are suspended in beeswax and propolis. This wax allows the oils to gradually seep into and lubricate the oil over time. Being exposed to flexing or extreme heat, rather than drying the leather out, encourages the wax to release the oils faster, thus preserving the leather.
To apply the LP, I once again heated the leather with the hair-dryer. Then, I turned the hair dryer onto the LP itself. Holding it over the jar for about a minute melted the wax a bit, making it easier the apply. Obenauf’s recommends applying the LP by hand, as your natural body heat will also help to warm the wax and encourage the leather to accept it. So, I dipped in a couple fingers and started spreading the wax all over the leather. After coating the first boot, I went over it with the hair-dryer again to help it penetrate a bit more. Obenauf’s recommends two coatings of the LP, which is what I did. The LP darkened the color of the leather more so than the oil, and also gave them a slightly waxy gloss. The boots actually look a bit too new and fancy for my taste now. I’ll have to rough them up a bit on the next hike.
I’m very happy with all three of the products from Obenauf’s, particularly the oil and the LP, which seemed to have worked magic on my boots. I’d recommend them to anybody who demands heavily on their boots. I plan to work them into a regular care schedule for my own boots, extending the life of my investments.
If anybody with more experience has suggestions for other products or a critique of my method, let me know.
To the multitude, whether city or country bred, the bare idea of faring alone in the wilds for days or weeks at a time is eerie and fantastic: it makes their flesh creep. He who does so is certainly an eccentric, probably a misanthrope, possible a fugitive from justice, or, likely enough, some moonstruck fellow whom the authorities would do well to follow up and watch. But many a seasoned woodsman can avow that some of the most satisfying, if not the happiest, periods of his life have been spent far out of sight and suggestion of his fellow men. ... By yourself you can sit motionless and mutely watchful, but where two are side by side it is neither polite nor endurable to pass an hour without saying a word. Lonesome? Nay indeed. Whoever has an eye for Nature is never less alone than when he is by himself. ...Solitude has its finer side. The saints of old, when seeking to cleanse themselves from taint of worldliness get closer to the source of prophecy, went singly into the desert and bided there alone. So now our lone adventurer, unsaintly as he may have been among men, experiences an exaltation, finds healing and encouragement in wilderness life. When twilight falls, and shadows merge in the darkness, the single-handed camper muses before the fire that comforts his bivouac and listens to the low, sweet voices of the night, which never are heard in full harmony save by those who sit silent and alone. - Horace Kephart, Camping and Woodcraft
Last weekend Avagdu, HatterOfMaddnesz, and I loaded up our packs and went for a jaunt in the Chuckanuts. The hike in was about 6 miles, with an elevation gain of something on the order of 1,600 feet. (In the planning stage, I had told them to expect 7 miles and 500 feet. I suppose next time I should look at the map, rather than relying on memory.)
Avagdu and HatterOfMaddnesz claimed that this was the longest hike that they had done in a while, but they both pulled through. Avagdu used the opportunity to field-test his INCH Bag, which was quite heavy. It gave him a hard time. I think he’ll be shedding some of the redundancy the next time around. Certainly, we all learned something.
We spent two nights at a lake and took a hike up to a ridge that gave views of Mt. Baker to the east and the San Juan Islands to the west. (I took a nap.) My camera battery died soon after setting up camp the first night, so pictures are sparse.
(Avagdu has recently released his video of this event.)