The-Atlantic-thefemalesurvivalist

My Garcia Bear Canister weighs 2 pounds 11 ounces, and can hold 7 days of food, if done right.

In my new book, I have a list and the method on how to do this. I've used one of these things in Montana. My hiking partner and I called them "the gorilla" because of how heavy they were and how hard to just strap one on to a pack. I ended up using my external frame and placing it inside the pack itself.

This is a photo of me crossing Lyle Creek on the Pacific Crest Trail. It's being used for the book cover. Even E-Books need Covers!
Today the book is being uploaded to Kindle at Amazon.com.
Everything Except Corn Pasta


In the book I've included lots of trail recipes, recipes for making goodies at home, and tricks for making delicious food while backpacking. I use economical ingredients and have a whole chapter on dehydrating everything from fruits to meats and making "leathers".

Also included are tons of trail stories, photos, and how to make your own backpackers cook set.
These and many more tips all come in handy for the survivalist because it builds on skills and knowledge the creative and thrifty person wants to learn.

The ISBN number for this e-book is: 0-9728154-1-4

Nearing the end of 2010, I'm inspired by all the creativity shown on the Internet.
Youtube offers videos on just about anything you can think of, from Review of the 2100 Casio Piano Keyboard, How to Break Down and Reassemble a Shotgun, to music by Rianna, and How to Build a Snow Cave.
You can see gear in use before you buy it, learn techniques on survival hunting, and watch cute animal videos.

Knowledge is power. If you surf awhile, there's no telling what you'll come across. I love the http://walletpop.com website for the boring financial stuff made interesting.

Yes, knowledge is power but without experience, that power will burst like a bubble under stress.
I try nearly everything I can at least once. Not everything works for me, but even failures or less than ideal outcomes are valuable learning tools.

We met a Continental Divide Trail hiker up in East Glacier a couple years back. He'd come into the hostel and my partner and I were trading stories with him. He pulled out a water spotted map and pointed out an alternative route, skirting through a range just north of Enis. It looked interesting, viable. Some of his descriptions, however, seemed nebulous.
I finally asked, "Have you hiked through there?"
"Nope", he replied, "but it looks totally doable".
After he put away his maps and data and went for supper, I told Rainmaker, "I don't think we should be pissing around on someone else's bushwhack"

Rainmaker laughed and agreed. We'd been on enough bushwhacks and alternative routes of our own to know how disappointing they can be.
Water? Campsites? Lost trails? Impassable blowdowns.
Experience ruled out this route suggestion from our new friend, although we filed away its existence in our trail brains.

You just never know when this piece of information might come in handy.

All this talk about sleeping bags brings to mind a couple of stories.

Preparing to hike the Pacific Crest Trail, I bought a Junior, or youth synthetic bag, rated 20 degrees. It fit, a snug fit. I would get in it, bend my knees, zip it up and stretch out. Tight. It fit my newly divorced-budget at the time, and I determined not to let that stop me.

The first season, 825 miles from Sonora Pass to Crater Lake, the bag did wonderful. Wonderful enough to take this bag, weighing just two pounds out in the spring to finish up the Pacific Crest Trail. I would be out for 5 months, and it never occurred to me that it was fairly trashed, and had lost most of its loft already.
While hiking through the desert I didn't notice any issues. But once into the High Sierras, I was freezing every night. This was early June, there was still snow banks at 10,000 feet.
I was using my Packless system, so determined to buy something at the next trail town, Kennedy Meadows, and strap it to the pack.
Within a few days we arrived at Kennedy Meadows, and I bought an old army blanket from the owner of the store there. I cut it down with my razor (5 gram) knife, sewed it into a mummy bag liner and carried it along with the sleeping bag.
The moral of the story? One way or another you will get a good sleeping bag.
My hiking partner sent me my fleece liner so that I could ditch the heavy, over 2 pound army blanket. With this combination, I finished in Canada on September 17th.
You can read my trail journals which are linked on my home page at:
http://www.trailquest.net/BRindex.html

I have all my gear lists for the trails as well, too numerous to list here.

Happy shopping.

I filmed my silnylon tent on fire, burning to the ground. Inside a "dummy" had been placed upon the floor, simulating a sleeping hiker. In this scenario, the hiker had elected to use the soda can stove inside her tiny tent, and while laying down, and had fallen asleep for whatever reason.

The entire video is posted at http://www.youtube.com/user/brawny03

Several questions and many opinions have been offered. I love it. Being ignored is worse than being questioned.

Now why would a person ever cook in or so near their tent or tarp that it could conceivably catch fire? The time has come to deal with this in depth.

Mosquitoes.

Several of us hiking just north of Forester Pass on the Pacific Crest Trail were preparing to camp for the night. It was mid June. We'd forded streams, slid down snow pack, were tired and hot. All soloists, we'd somehow ended up in the same campsite.

The mosquitoes were ferocious. A camp spot was chosen but due to the blood sucking intensity, everyone was looking for a way to deal. Alexa threw down her bivy and crawled inside. She just lay there, safe, hot, but relieved. Her health store insect repellent wasn't worth shit, she told us.

Rambo John made a smudge fire and sat in the smoke. His tarp wouldn't keep mosquitoes off him, and his deet was running low.

I set up my tent and jumped inside with everything I had, including enough water for supper. Cobweb did the same with his tent. He said he was staying inside. He set his little soda can stove just outside in the vestibule and reached out as needed til supper was cooked and ready. Then, he ate inside.

I cooked in my tent, aware that it was incredibly dangerous. Silnylon will burn, you don't even need a flame for the heat to melt the fabric. Mosquitoes in the Sierras in June through first frost will drive one to near insanity.

Mist and Rain

After a long hard day walking in mist and rain, all we wanted was to get the tent up, some place that wasn't flooded, some place relatively flat so we didn't end up in each other's face. We'd trudged 22 miles, over the pass, through the sand, through the overgrowth. As dusk settled in, the trail wound into an old roadbed, very firm, but wide enough for the silnylon tent. Somehow we managed to get the stakes in. Then we climbed in, mud and wet gear left in each vestibule. Tomorrow we would be in town, so tonight we could cook and eat anything we wanted, use as much fuel as we felt like, drink coffee til we could hold no more. Life is good.

Wind Chill Factors

A winter hike and overnight on the Bartram Trail proved colder than anticipated. The sun shone, it was Georgia, but the temps kept dropping. The wind picked up. My car was just ten miles away and it crossed my mind to just continue the trail and not stop for the night . But, the GATC group leader said we would camp at Wilson Gap. That's fine, tomorrow we'd get out early. As everyone set up their shelters, donned their puff jackets and sat in the wind to cook, I realized my best comfort zone lay inside the tent, out of the wind, in the sleeping bag.
It dropped to 17 degrees that night, water froze in the cook pot I left outside the tent. I had dumped my water bottles to prevent loosing carrying capacity next morning. Another hiker slept with his camel back, but now even the hose was frozen. He carried out 2 quarts of ice, and had nothing to drink out or pick up water with. I cooked my oatmeal from the warmth of my bag, in the vestibule of my ultralight tent.

So, bottom line, I'm guessing anyone who doesn't know why a person would ever want to cook in their silnylon tent just hasn't been out enough. Basically its an individual survival decision. Having the right information helps make that decision.

I edited the film for impact and shared it as a courtesy.

It is good to journey towards an end, but in the end it's all about the food.

The original saying is "It is good to journey towards an end, but in the end its all about the journey".

I think the food is more accurate. Hikers get so bored with their food they start doing drastic things.
Some thru hikers on the Pacific Crest Trail told me their last resupply in Stehican, for 89 miles (about 4-5 days) was 50 candy bars and one package of ramen noodles.

I've seen guys ditch the stove and go cold food. This meant hiking out of town with a 3 pound sausage, several pounds of cheese, some bagels, some dried fruit and nuts. Lots of snickers. Very heavy, very bulky.
Then there's the guy that bought 3 cans of chunk pineapple for an evening treat. He didn't care about the weight, it was so worth it.
I've carried out a can of black olives, a birthday treat for my hiking partner. Sodas, a few beers, pressed upon us by trail angels. Then carried the crushed cans to the next town to recycle.
I've cooked my granola, eaten ramen raw like pretzels, added wild onions to the rice. Never get instant rice, or pop tarts without frosting. Just not worth the weight. A trail mix of pretzels, box of raisins and 12 ounce bag of chocolate chips in a gallon zip lock bag wasn't too shabby. When the chocolate chips melted it was more like eating chunks. It worked.

Then there's the hiker-box, trail-mix find. An assortment of unlikely stuff and god knows how many bacteria, it can be eaten while hiking, and has enough distraction for miles of guessing games (was that a dried cranberry??) I've seen gorp bags containing goldfish crackers, captain crunch, dried strawberries, m&ms, dried peas, pretzels, raisins, coconut, Cheerios, jelly beans and even taco chips.
Just throw it all into one bag, it ends up in the same place anyways.

One of my strangest resupplies was the last one the Colorado Trail by Silverton. Assured that the camp store had supplies, we were determined to not go into town, just buy some food and head out.
All they had was snacks.
So, 5 grandma cookies equaled breakfast.
Cashews, candy, chips, jerky, for lunches. A previous hiker had abandoned a drop box, so tortillas and instant black beans from said box were offered by store keeper. That became supper. Memorable.

I've learned the hard way not to have all sweets, or all salty, or all spicy. I make sure to mix it up, especially if its going to be a week before getting to town again for a resupply.

There are hikers who carry a good assortment of spices along. My favorite is cinnamon for oatmeal, garlic for suppers. Salt is not even optional. Unless all your food is already salted, you're going to need and want it. A little salt goes a long ways in making a big difference.

No matter what food you decide to survive on for a week, don't forget the water. All this has to be washed down some way.

I've seen a lot of stoves on the trail.
Some guys would get obsessed with having the fastest stove and boil contests would be held. Each person starts with one pint of cold water. Then, lighting the stove, a stop watch would keep track of how long the stove took to heat the water to boiling. Usually the soda can stoves would be in a class by themselves. Backpackers with canister stoves and whisper lights just had too much power behind the flame to be fair.

We had our sleeping bags all stretched out in the shelter on the AT when a guy starts to light his stove next to my sleeping bag. This is so wrong on many levels. Number one, you shouldn't be cooking in the shelter. Course, most of us did anyways. Number two, you should be more respectful of other's gear. What if your stove leaked, exploded or tipped over (as has happened to long distance hikers one time or another)? You could send someones sleeping bag up in flames, especially a down $265 Marmot, like I had.
I politely moved my bag in spite of protestations that he was being careful.

I've seen the screw from a photon stove go flying past it's owner's eye. Another time the guy poured fuel into the priming pan, lit his stove and caught the floor of the shelter on fire.

I knocked my stove and cook pot full of pasta over when I woke up from an accidental snooze while leaning against the shelter wall.
These things happen.

Just to see what would happen, I lit a soda can stove while it sat inside my old silnylon tent, shut the screen and filmed it. Of course, the heat eventually caught it on fire. I posted this on YouTube
http://www.youtube.com/user/brawny03
The response to the video was mixed. Everything from "what a waste of a good tent" "dumbest video ever" to "thanks for posting, you saved lives"

So, when you play with fire, or stoves, expect stuff to happen and be safe.
A way to put out the fire (snuffer, wet cloth, water) and a way to move the pot when the food is cooked are great ideas. Not cooking too near your flammable gear is smart. Stay awake, even if you have to walk around.