Standing staring in awe of the ancient trees surrounding me, I''m overcome with a sense of peace I''ve only ever known after bawling my eyes out at the altar. For the first time in years, I don''t feel any pain. Even my head where I fell isn''t hurting. I fall to my knees, "Lord, I don''t deserve this." I utter in near mute silence. I sit silently praying for a moment before turning my head where my eyes land on an odd little pile of leaves. The instant my eyes land on it, it explodes into a spiral of feathers as a grouse shoots into the sky like a short bus helicopter. "Holy fuck shit!!!" I yell falling onto my ass. I start laughing as my heart hammering in my chest. I watch it fly off into the trees, his unusual survival technique, never failing to give me a heart attack. "Way to prove a point," I say, looking pointed at the sky. Feeling silly at my vulgar outburst. "Pawpaw always said you have a sense of humor," i say half in prayer half in jest. I slowly find my feet again and put my gloves on to gather as many hood nuts as I can, looking over every nut for worm holes. It doesn''t take me long to fill my small backpack to bursting. Which leaves me with nowhere to put any more after my previous foraging. I pull my estwind camp axe off the side of my bag and carefully mark my path on downed logs and standing dead timber stopping to make sure it''s easy to follow as I continue to work my way down the mountain as I search for a creek to camp at. After only a half hour or so of wandering along game trails, I happen upon a small springhead trickling into a creak that I can see joining a larger stream just down the holler. I''m happy with my spot for the night, so I quickly set to finding a spot with no snags or widow makers and use my E-tool to dig a small fire pit clearing away leaves and debris In a five foot circle around the pit which I line with rocks until I have a suitable fire place then I set to finding a standing dead tree near by which I set to felling and processing with my katanaboy saw. With plenty of firewood stacked and ready, I set to starting a fire with my ferro rod and striker. In just a few tries, I have a happy little fire started, and I feed it twigs slowly, building it into a decent sized campfire with 6-inch logs burning over it. I spend a few minutes whittling out two Y sticks and a spit before quickly cleaning my squirrel. I set the spitted squirrel to the side until the fire burns down some while I bury the offal 50 feet from camp or so. I debated with myself briefly over keeping the pelt but decided against it for now and bury it as well. While I wait for my fire to burn down, I begin the well practiced task of setting up my tent hammock. I am feeling very pleased with myself for bringing my weekend pack instead of my day bag for today''s hike. With my shelter up and time to kill for the fire, I go through my bag and do a layout on my poncho. Just having my saw and axe are huge, let alone my hammock, sleeping bag, auger, pocket stove, and mess kit that I normally don''t bring. The water filter, first aide kit, flare gun, road flares, emergency MRE mora knife, pocket knife, sling shot, and Leatherman I always have. Add to that all the food I gathered through the day, and I''m actually in a great position going forward. I pack everything away and move back to the fire. With it nearly ready, I set up my little pocket wood stove and move a couple of coals to it and feed it some small sticks before I start my squirrel to roasting. Then i start rendering what little organ fat I got from my squirrel. Once it has rendered out a teaspoon or so, I add in a handful of my cinnabar chantrelles, which sizzle on contact, releasing an incredible aroma. Once they are cooked, I transfer them to my plate and set some chestnuts to boil in my little pot. While I monitor the food on the fire, I snack on my mushrooms, enjoying the crackling of the fire and the gentle burble of the creek. It doesn''t take long for the young squirrel to be cooked, and I take it off the fire and add a few logs now that it''s getting truly dark. I pick at the squirrel enjoying it despite how tough it is from being cooked so quickly. With my meal finished, I test a chestnut with my pocket knife and decide they are cooked enough, I pour off the water and set them aside to cool. After ten minutes, I gingerly start peeling them, discarding a few bad ones and putting the rest aside for breakfast. Exhausted from an incredibly long day, I put all my food into my bag and hoist it into a tree just outside of camp before banking the fire and crawling into my hammock where my new world sings me to sleep.


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