When you're out collecting
firewood, foraging for wild edibles, or plowing your
fields, you can never be sure that you won't suddenly be
faced with a situation in which your survival will
depend upon your ability to make a shelter, find food
and water, and build a fire. In fact, even if you're
'safely" ensconced in the security of a cabin, a
farmhouse, or a city apartment, any number of natural or
manmade disasters can force you to keep yourself alive
by using only what is available in nature.
However, any person who knows
how to provide his or her necessities, without
having to depend on manufactured commodities, can
endure even if a calamity severs all ties with the rest
of society. And wilderness living abilities are
particularly important assets for the alternative
lifestylist, camper, sportsperson, or other nature
enthusiast who enjoys spending time away from the
trappings of civilization.
But good survival skills include
much more than the capability merely to live
through a disaster. They can also approach a pure art
form, and help men and women enter into a deeper kinship
with all of creation. Consider how rewarding it would be
to be able to build a shelter from natural materials
...to make your own fire ...to gather, prepare, and
preserve wild edible plants for their nutritive and
medicinal value ...to find water where there seems to be
none ...to stalk, hunt, and kill game with a bow and
arrow made by your own hands from the materials around
you, then to use every part of that animal, from the
hoofs and hide to the bones and meat ...in short, to be
able to eliminate your dependence upon civilization and
purchased goods and do without even such basic items as
matches, candles, and rope!
Unfortunately, a lot of people
avoid learning these skills because most survival
schools in this country teach that staying alive in the
wilds is a desperate struggle ...that the survivalist
must always strive to overcome the threats posed by
nature. Indeed, the whole wilderness survival concept
has acquired a macho image!
I believe—and teach—just the
opposite. A person trying to live in the out-of-doors
should experience no need to fight, feel no pain, and
endure no hard work. Indeed, whenever humans try
to conquer the pure and natural, they are always
defeated ...and sometimes killed.
I have a friend who once, as
part of a "learning experience", marched across plains
and mountains—equipped with little more than a blanket,
a knife, and a bag of flour averaging 20 to 30 miles a
day and pushing himself almost beyond the limits of his
personal endurance. The man suffered plenty of cramps
and blisters in the course of doing so, yet he gained
almost no real survival skills.
After spending a week at my
school, though, this same individual discovered that he
had missed the ease and harmony of a true survival
experience. He was astonished to feel the spiritualism
and the communion that can come when one lives close to
the earth ...and even more surprised to realize that
after learning survival skills the right way—he had been
able to spend a comfortable week in the woods, in the
dead of winter, with no "tools" other than the
clothes on his back.
You see, I believe nature can
provide a person with everything he or she needs. In
order to have access to the Earth Mother's gifts, one
must simply acquire enough skills and knowledge to make
his or her time in the wilderness a rewarding and
beautiful experience.
The most important rule, for any
person who is suddenly faced with a survival situation,
is to keep from panicking. The fear that
overtakes someone who has just lived through a major
disaster, or has abruptly realized that he or she is
lost, can be beyond description. Remember, though, that
panic is probably the biggest killer of all in such
emergencies. Therefore, having confidence in one's
skills during those first traumatic moments sometimes
means the difference between life and death.
So when you find yourself faced
with a challenging situation, don't act like the fully
equipped hunters—in those grisly stories that make
headlines every deer season—who panic and then die of
shock and exposure a few yards from a highway. Instead,
follow the example of a nine-year-old boy I heard of,
who confidently weathered a two-day blizzard under a fir
tree because he knew rabbits use firs for shelter and
figured that their technique would work for him as well.
When calamity strikes, sit down and
think things through before taking action. Relax,
and realize that you can stay in the wilderness as long
as you wish ...with the Earth Mother helping you every
step of the way. Instead of giving in to panic, look
upon the event as an opportunity to enjoy an unplanned
vacation!
If you approach a survival
situation with a negative attitude-thinking, "I can't
stand sleeping in a smelly, bug-infested shelter in the
middle of these damp, scary woods"—you will certainly
have nothing but problems. But if you think, "Here I am
all by myself in this magnificent forest, surrounded by
the richest scents of nature, lying in the embrace of
the earth and sleeping in a shelter I made myself"
...your experience can actually be grand and harmonious.
You'll also go a long way toward
increasing your mental comfort by accepting the fact
that you cannot immediately have everything you want,
but can have everything you need. Most
people, when lost, instantly become concerned about what
they're going to eat. Yet of the four necessities for
survival-shelter, water, fire, and food, food is often
the least important requirement. Most Americans
can go well over 30 days without eating.
Fire ranks next to last on the list
because, if you have a good shelter, you don't really
need a fire. Water, of course, is essential (one can
survive only a few days without it), but—as I'll explain
in MOTHER NO. 72—you can easily collect water in almost
any situation.
A person stranded in a harsh
environment, though, may not live through a single night
if he or she doesn't have an adequate shelter.
Therefore, I feel that anyone interested in wilderness
survival should begin his or her education by
learning how to construct a protective
REQUIREMENTS FOR A GOOD SHELTER
[1] A shelter must give you
complete protection from the elements. It should be able
to ward off violent storms, hot sun, high winds, frost,
and dampness.
[2] A shelter must be able to keep
you warm and dry even if you don't have blankets, coats,
sleeping bags, or heavy clothing (people in survival
situations often find themselves equipped with only the
clothes on their backs).
[3] A shelter should provide a
warm, dry work area as well as a sleeping compartment,
so that you can handle important survival chores without
being exposed to the weather.
[4] A shelter should give a sense
of security. It ought to be a sanctuary ...a place where
your cares drop off and you find rest.
WHERE TO PUT IT
The location of your structure is
just as important as the type of shelter you
build. The best-constructed survival hut won't keep you
comfortable, even in mild weather, if it's set up in a
poor site. So, in choosing a suitable location, you'll
want to keep in mind that the natural surroundings
themselves can supply a lot of protection.
When deciding where to erect your
hut, first make sure the spot has adequate drainage and
is a good distance from any large body of water. That
way, you'll avoid the dampness that settles around water
and the danger of having your temporary home
washed away in a violent rain.
The area you choose should also be
well protected—especially on the windward side of the
locality's prevailing weather systems—by such natural
barriers as vine tangles, trees, or rock outcroppings.
Inspect the immediate surroundings for any old snags,
dead limbs, or rock overhangs that could fall through
your wilderness house in a high wind, and make sure
there are no low-hanging boughs over the spot where you
might want to build a fire.
Finally, it's a good idea to find a
location that can be easily seen, so that searchers will
have a good chance of spotting your position. Since
natural shelters are hard to detect even if they're
placed in the open, you should do whatever you can to
mark the structure clearly, as well.
POSITIONING THE DOOR AND FIREPLACE
Whenever it's possible, the
entrance to your shelter should face east. Aligning
one's home in this direction has deep spiritual meaning
to many native Americans ...and is also very effective
as a survival practice. For one thing, an east—facing
entrance will admit the first warming rays of the rising
sun after a chilly night. In addition, since most
weather systems travel from west to east, the wind will
normally strike the back of such a shelter.
Your fireplace should be set in
front of the hut's entrance, allowing you to sit in your
home's doorway protected from the wind in back and
warmed by the flames out front. This setup will also
enable you to toss additional fuel on the fire without
climbing out of your nest. (After all, no one enjoys
getting up in a bad storm to add wood to a waning
blaze.)
Be careful not to build your fire
too close to the shelter, though. Since most survival
huts are made of highly flammable materials, your
wilderness heat source should be located a good six to
ten feet away from your door. (You can increase the
amount of warmth directed toward your home by backing
the fireplace with a horseshoe-shaped reflector made of
stones.)
NATURAL SHELTERS
Natural shelters include any
wilderness spots in which a survivalist can find
temporary refuge from a storm or some other disaster.
Such places usually make meager dwellings at best,
though, thus they should be used only in dire
emergencies. When you must seek a natural
shelter, simply do as the animals teach us to do: Find
protection in shallow caves ...beneath fallen logs,
overhangs, or brush tangles ...or next to the trunks of
fir or spruce trees.
THE LEAF HUT
There are many types of man-made
emergency shelters, but I believe that the leaf (or
debris) hut offers the longest-lasting and
best-insulated protection of any, and is certainly one
of the easiest survival homes to construct. I first
learned about leaf shelters just after my eleventh
birthday, when Stalking Wolf — my grandfather and Indian
mentor took me out in the forest for my initial survival
experience.
I was young and slightly anxious as
to how we were going to weather the cold night ahead, so
after a long day in the woods, I finally inquired,
"Grandfather, where are we going to sleep?" He replied,
"Go and ask the squirrels." And ask I did. I watched the
small animals stuff their homes with grass and other
debris until they'd created bulky, well-insulated nests.
After an hour of intent
observation, I went to work myself. I made a huge pile
of material that included pine needles, grasses, dried
ferns, tree bark, and soft brush. Finishing just after
nightfall, I crawled into the heap and slept warm and
snug ...despite the night's drizzle and
barely—above-freezing temperature. My brush pile did
have some disadvantages, though. I couldn't move around
very much without destroying part of the shelter, and
the nest had no dry work area. So, after watching my
wild teachers again, absorbing more lessons from my
grandfather, and experimenting with various shelter
designs, I created a simple leaf hut that eliminated
both of my first effort's shortcomings.
Basically, the debris structure is
nothing more than a huge domed pile of leaves, with the
foliage supported by a frame that completely surrounds
the work and sleeping area. In a way, the leaf hut
functions like a sleeping bag, but the shelter is
stuffed with leaves instead of down or synthetic fibers.
What's more, unlike a bedroll, the hut is
waterproof and will keep a survivalist dry in almost any
downpour: The dome shape forces the rain to run off the
structure's sides, and the leaf walls actually wick
ground moisture up and away from the nest's interior.
HOW TO DO IT
To build a leaf hut, first select a
proper site and find some object—such as a stump, rising
ground, the fork of a tree, a log, or a large rock—that
can support a sturdy ridgepole. (If necessary, you can
build a wooden tripod as a prop.) Then place one end of
the ridgepole on the support and rest the other end on
the ground. Next, gather sticks and lay them against the
sides of this triangle ...so that the branches lean, at
a 45° angle, against the ridgepole. Leave a gap in the
eastern side of the framework—toward the hut's high
end—for your doorway.
Now, collect brush and add that to
the structure's skeleton until the entire frame is
covered by a huge wooden web thick enough to prevent
leaves and other debris from falling through. At this
point, your domicile should look like a small,
half-erect pup tent.
Next, gather up leaves, grasses,
ferns, pine needles, green boughs, or whatever is
available. Pile the material—to a thickness of at least
2-1/2 feet-on the sides and top of the structure's
frame. (A leaf hut with 2-1/2-foot-thick walls will keep
you warm and dry in temperatures just below 0°F. In
severely cold weather, make the structure's sides at
least four feet thick.) Finally, complete the
outside of the hut by laying more brush, sticks, and
poles over your wilderness home ...to hold its covering
in place and keep the walls secure even in a high wind.
The sleeping area of the hut is
completed by stuffing the lower end of the nest with
leaves or other soft debris. Place only a light carpet
of foliage on the floor of the remainder of the hut,
though, so that you'll have a usable work area and a
place to store dry kindling, food, and so forth.
From start to finish, it shouldn't
take an adult much more than an hour to construct a good
leaf hut ...and while gathering the nest's materials,
you can collect a supply of firewood as well. To lie
down in the shelter's sleeping area, work your way feet
first into the packed bedding so that your head
protrudes slightly into the work area.
Because a leaf hut contains plenty
of air spaces, the shelter will remain warm even when
it's wet. So if you find yourself caught in a rainstorm,
don't be afraid to use drenched materials to build a
hut. Your nest will be damp if you do so, but you'll
still be warm and alive.
If you have to spend the night
without a fire, stack a pile of leaves near the hut's
doorway. When you turn in for the night, you can pull
this foliage inward to block the entrance. Remember,
though, that you'll need an opening in the door to let
in some fresh air. Otherwise, you might build up an
unhealthful oxygen deficit during the night. (The old
pioneer malady cabin fever—which sometimes led to
vomiting, headaches, and dizziness—was often caused by a
lack of oxygen in the settlers' tightly sealed winter
cabins.)
All things considered, I think the
leaf hut is the best form of survival shelter. (In fact,
I often have my students sleep naked in such structures
during the winter months, to convince them that the
little dwellings are snore than adequate.) When
you build one, try to make it a miniature Taj Mahal ...a
work of art as well as a good, warm home. Careful
crafting will improve your survival potential and
display respect for the objects you had to use. As you
may know, many native Americans pray whenever they take
something from the land ...not only to show
appreciation, but also to acknowledge their close
connection to the earth. And I encourage my survival
students to practice this same form of respect
...whether they're using a fish, herb, branch, or rock.
A leaf hut is so sturdy that it
might well remain standing for months or years after you
vacate it. I recommend pulling down the shelter when you
leave, though, so that the structure won't detract from
the landscape or hamper small animal travel.
By the way, many of the natural
shelters mentioned earlier can also be used in
conjunction with leaf hut construction methods. Cave
entrances, rock outcroppings, and root networks can be
blockaded with the basic dome-of-debris structure.
Indeed, the resourceful survivalist will adapt the leaf
hut to satisfy his or her particular needs.
SNOW SHELTER
A modified leaf hut can even serve
you well in deep snow. In fact, I don't recommend
(as many survival publications do) that a person caught
in a severe blizzard simply tunnel into a snowdrift
...because only the extreme northern states and high
mountain passes stay cold enough to assure that such a
cave won't collapse. Besides, snow tunnels are very
chilly and damp even when they do hold up.
An effective wintertime
shelter can be constructed by
simply building a leaf dome over a depression in the
snow. Evergreen boughs will substitute ably for the
normal debris insulation, but if you can't find such
limbs, just pack snow over the shelter's wooden frame. A
snow-sided home may not be as comfortable as would a
leaf— or evergreen-lined one, but at least it won't
collapse on you.
TRY IT
Finally, let me stress that the
best time to learn how to build a leaf hut is not during
a survival situation ...when a beginner's mistakes can
be costly. Instead, simply leave your tent at home the
next time you go camping, and make your own shelter.
When you do so, please show respect for our Earth
Mother, and don't break off any limbs or gather any
woodland material that you don't need. You'll probably
be able to find plenty of sticks, debris, and leaves
simply lying on the ground.
And the job can be both easy and
fun if you let your whole family join in on the
shelter-building project. That way, you'll all have a
chance to discover how comfortable wilderness survival
can
be! |