Please read The Trapper Part 1 first.
The trapper looked at the horizon. It was difficult to tell the sun’s exact position but he estimated that he only had a few hours of sunlight lleft. He was already feeling the effects of being naked in the wet snow of the Southern Appalachian winter. Unable to find a stone hard enough to strike a spark from the hatchet he’d need to try an older technique to build his fire. He looked around but the only thing suitable for spinning fire was the small stems of the Goldenrod he’d collected for tinder.
One of the larger stems would have to serve as a fireboarb and scrapping it flat with the blade of the hatchet would be simple enough in normal circumstances but right now his blood was beginning to leave his extremities and his muscles were starting to seize up. His hands ached and he shivered uncontrollably as he worked. Carving the all important notch took a lot of effort to get right but he found that sitting on a pile of evergreen boughs and holding his hatchet between feet allowed him to use both hands on the stem and gave him just enough control to make the notch on his third attempt. Struggling against the stiffness in his body he held the second stem between the heels of his hands and held his newly created fireboarb in place with one foot. He began to spin the second stem back and forth while gently pressing downward to create friction. He had to pace himself because if he exerted too much it would only make the hypothermia worse. After a few minutes of work he began to smell smell smoke which brought back memories of his grandmother’s kitchen. She’d preferred to use a pump drill for starting her cooking fires once he’d asked her why she never used the strike-a-light hanging on the wall of the tiny one room cabin and her only reply was that this was the way she’d always done it. The memories continued to flood in which helped him to not think about the torment of his body as it ached from the cold. Before he knew it he had generated a tiny coal in the notch. A precious glowing ember that was the seed of his life giving fire. The fluffy seedhead of the Goldenrod didn’t need much preparation to receive the ember but his teeth chattered as he carefully breathed life into the flame. As the fire grew the trapper huddled close to get warm and nearly singed his long red beard. Eventually he moved his buckskins closer to dry out. But the thick fur and leather had absorbed a lot of water. It would take time. He manged to find enough green boughs to create a mat for sleeping on as well as enough dry branches to stoke his campfire. Between the windbreak of the evergreen thicket and the warmth of his fire he felt almost normal as the sun disappeared behind the mountains. Exhausted from his ordeal he stretched out as long as his campfire and fell asleep.
Good night friends and be blessed throughout your days.
I am adding additional social media to my network. Eventually, I’ll be leaving Facebook behind for a multitude of reasons. Even though the Lloyd’s Lens Photography page is strictly non-political I have been restricted from interacting with followers with no explanation for why. But it’s not just that. For years now Facebook has throttled content providers in general. They encourage us to grow our audience and then want to sell us back the access to them. In addition, they collect and sell the data from our interaction. So Facebook has become an entanglement of thorns. In response I have created the Lloyd’s Lens Photography Discussion Group on MeWe. We can still interact directly on the blog but starting today I’ll be looking for more platforms that respect the privacy of my followers and don’t limit who gets to see the post.
I want you to join my group on MeWe: https://mewe.com/join/lloydslensphotographydiscussiongroup
Hey Friends! Just a quick reminder that Lloyds Lens Photography is available for portraits!