Stepping Through the Time-Hole

I remember stumbling across someone’s recommendation of the little book by Nessmuk … George W. Sears ... Woodcraft and Camping. I can’t tell you how many years ago that was. It was a good many more than several. We ordered it. I read it. And I’ve reread it several times since.

Getting out there in the woods as a minimalist was not only inviting. It was challenging. It made me rethink and assess a lot of my modern camping notions. A few other old timers and their books were added to the shelf. Angier. Whelen. Kephardt. Fairly familiar names in the modern world of bushcraft – woodcraft - wildcraft - survivalcraft or whatevercraft you choose to call it.

The bulk of what is going on in the community represented by the aforementioned labels has to do primarily with getting out there somewhere.

I do not diminish the need to be able to get along out there. I am, in fact, an advocate and get out there every opportunity that comes along. Things can, and do, turn bad out there and surviving a difficult situation scenario out there involves a lot more than owning all the latest tools and gadgets promoted by the popular and trending tool reviewers.

Making a go of it out there in the woods in a difficult situation is one thing.

The truth of the matter is that I do not live the bulk of my life out there. The vast majority of us do not and never will. Shirli and I will, like the vast majority, always have a home base of one sort or another. Our own home base, our own homestead, happens to be transitioning to something much simpler and a lot closer to out there than most modernites would begin to consider.

Making a go of it around the homestead in a difficult situation scenario is altogether another thing.

Short-term and long-term. Especially, though, in long-term situations.

The necessary mindset and skills, in both situations, intersect.

The necessary tools to accomplish as comfortable a positive outcome vary a bit. Mostly, though, where the size and weight of the tools are concerned.

Cast iron cookware, while impractical in a backpack, is … in my opinion … a homestead necessity. It is also … again my opinion … the ideal cookware for camping provided there is a means to easily transport it. It was, after all, designed for open fire cooking.

Open fire cooking may not be practical for urban apartment and condominium dwellers when electrical power is down. Subdivisions with Home Owner’s Associations often have clauses that prohibit open fires. Municipalities may have ordinances prohibiting open fires. Those are scenarios that I’m glad Shirli and I don’t have to worry about. I can’t, other than in those prohibitive environments, think of a reason why folks wouldn’t consider having an outdoor wood fired kitchen set up.

It doesn’t take a huge outlay of cash to set up a wood burning outdoor kitchen. It can be as simple as a refrigerator grate sitting on a couple of concrete blocks, or an elaborate collection of hand forged works, or anything you put together that fits somewhere between the two ends. It’s not the style of kitchen that does the cooking over the open fire. It’s the cook.

There is a bit of a learning curve where cooking with cast iron over an open fire is concerned. There are, after all, no heat adjusting knobs to turn. It’s not a hard curve to get onto. It just takes doing it enough to get a feel for it. That’s the way it is, though, with any skill. Practice always improves efficiency.

There is another side to this. That other side. Not the side that has to do with getting along in a difficult situation scenario.

It has to do with relaxing and enjoying the simple pleasures of building a fire, tending a fire, and cooking over an open fire. This side of it is like stepping through a time-hole and reconnecting with our forebears in those former times when fire and cast iron were the norm rather than the exception. The journey through the time-hole is one that I can talk about but folks have to experience it for themselves to understand it. Once we’ve made the journey through it, there is a part of us that will always remain on that side of it. My experience with the time-hole is that I leave more of myself on the other side every time I pass through.

When we manage to cross over to this other side we discover an affection that more than outweighs the weight of Skillet, Dutch Oven, and Kettle.