April 13, 2014
I had been looking forward to my first wild camp of the 2014.
I had hoped for a camp in January and February, fantasising about waking up in a silent-morning wood with frost, or better still, snow on the ground. But alas we were denied a winter and instead were given an angry, wet Autumn that never quite seemed to end.
And then suddenly a break in the sodden season, a warm, dry spell develops in March and I take the opportunity offered.
Badger Wood (my name) lies between two medium-sized towns in Hertfordshire.
I arrived late in the afternoon and set-about looking for a suitable place to pitch-up.
I chose an spot on a flat piece of ground near to the edge of the wood, I decide to set the shelter (half of a Polish army lavvu tippi) facing the east so I could catch the sun rising in the morning.
I walked back to the public footpath that cuts through the wood and looked back at my camp, it was almost impossible to see, which made me happy.
The sun began to set, I set up my IKEA hobo-stove and made a cuppa tea, followed by a dinner of chilli-con-carne mopped up with a baguette.
An hour or so later a rising moon had replaced the sun and the wood was bathed in a silver light. I brewed up a hot-chocolate, laced with a generous helping of whisky, sat back and watched the moon and accompanying stars.
It felt good to be in the woods again.
I sat by the hobo-stove until about 10pm and then decided to call it a night. I didn’t sleep that well, I had underestimated how cold it would be and my ground mat wasn’t sufficient to keep me comfortable. So I was pleased to finally hear the dawn chorus and watch the sun slowly rising over the crest of the wooded slope.
I set about making tea.
Followed by some breakfast.
And then another cuppa tea.
It was a beautiful morning in which to laze about in the woods, sipping tea and feeding the hobo stove.
With the sun climbing high in the sky I packed up my stuff and erased all trace of the camp.
I thanked the wood for keeping me safe.
Leaving the wood I crossed a sparkling stream, it felt good to be alive.
Here’s a short , very rough, video of the camp:
(with thanks to I.G.)
Comments
These posts were first published on my old WordPress site, where family, friends and passing strangers would sometimes leave comments. I’ve decided to keep a few from much loved people who are no longer with us, especially my mother, Maggie, and my father-in-law, Bob. Both were keen walkers and always took an interest in my adventures.
Bob