As I watched the wooded lane through the steam rising from my coffee cup, my thoughts drifted back across the years to much simpler times, the days of the mountain men.
I had made my way to the stand that morning somewhat awkwardly, dressed in multiple layers of merino wool and down and loaded to the hilt with gear. The gear included my rifle, a small propane heater, and a daypack that had burgeoned into more of a “weekpack,” its pockets stuffed to maximum capacity.
Had mountain man John Colter seen me on my walk in, he would have no doubt laughed. However, I intended to be comfortable throughout my hunt on the “25 but feels like 11” degree morning.
I was well-provisioned to say the least, especially when you consider the fact that I was less than a quarter mile from my truck and no more than two miles from home. However, even Jim Bridger didn’t go off into the backcountry ill-prepared.
As I’ve gotten older, my yearning to hunt in the cold has yet to wane, but my ability to tolerate the cold has certainly diminished. That said, I wear enough layers to resemble the Michelin Man, carry along a portable heater, and use more handwarmers than a quarterback at frozen Lambeau Field.
With the help of the coffee, the heater, the clothes, and the handwarmers, I managed to stay quite comfortable throughout the morning hunt apart from my feet. I had worn heavy socks and my most insulated boots. However, by the end of the morning my toes were frozen.
The blind cover on the elevated ladder stand did a good job of trapping the rising heat from the portable heater, but the steel mesh floor did nothing to prevent the freezing air from enveloping my feet. As I sat drinking coffee and watching a group of deer feed down the lane, I thought about the coldest my feet had ever been.
At the top of that list was a duck hunt in the flooded timber of the Noxubee Wildlife Refuge. We had to break ice walking in that morning, and, at some point during the trek, a sharp root or limb punctured the right boot of my waders.
I cringed as the icy water filled the boot, but there was nothing to do but clench my teeth and endure it. I had always heard that wool will keep you warm even when wet and that morning on the refuge tested the theory.
We finished the hunt with a limit of mallards and wood ducks and, after squishing my way down the dam on the walk out, I was glad to get back to the truck, crank the heater, strip out of my waders, and sit thawing my bare foot in the heated air.
Following my morning hunt this week, my frozen toes finally thawed just after lunch as I sat with them propped on the hearth next to the logs of the fireplace at home. They defrosted just in time to gird back up in my Arctic frock and head back into the polar vortex for an afternoon hunt.
Temps had continued to drop throughout the day which meant that I would again be lugging a load to the stand. Before leaving, I decided to empty my pack to see if, by chance, I could lighten the load.
What follows is the list of contents for my daypack (and, again, I use the term “daypack” loosely) in no certain order: Box of 20 6.5 Creedmoor cartridges (apparently, three aren’t enough), two pairs of gloves (fleece and wool), lucky Boston Red Sox beanie, scent bombs (deer lure), fleece face and neck gaiter, binoculars, range finder, hand warmers, SD card reader (forgot I had that), blaze orange hat and vest.
An impressive list, but wait, there’s more: Satsuma (paper towel to wipe sticky hands from peeling satsuma), three Slim Jim snack sticks, rattle bag, grunt call, doe bleat, Buck knife, compass, reflective trail markers (tacks and twist ties), wind checker, headlamp, flashlight, hearing protection, lighter for propane heater, spent .270 cartridge (not sure why) and, rounding out the list, a lucky buckeye.
A couple of items that didn’t make the list as I always add them just before leaving include a water bottle and a book, usually whatever it is that I am reading at the time. I also always carry my phone, wallet, ChapStick, and pocketknife, however, since these items go in my pockets, they don’t make the daypack list.
In comparison, a quick Google search reveals that the typical mountain man carried a rifle, powder horn, bullet pouch, knife, flint and steel, and a hatchet. This doesn’t include the gear carried on his horse (blankets, traps, kettles, etc.). Another source also adds awls, beads, pistols, iron/brass wire, combs and files.
Clearly, my gear list is a bit longer, but since I don’t utilize a beast of burden, I think we can call it even on keeping supplies to a minimum. Unfortunately, since I’m hunting within a three-mile radius of home, returning to a climate-controlled house, and driving my truck to and from (so much for not having a beast of burden), I think the mountain man still holds the edge in terms of keeping it simple in the woods.
Well, we can’t all be Jeremiah Johnson. Until next time, here’s to being out there (comfortably) in our great outdoors.
Email outdoors columnist Brad Dye at braddye@comcast.net.