Season's first snow tracks!

A light snow and stiff North wind marked the morning as we headed out for this month’s Tracking Club meeting. Four brave souls, including little 22 month old Cuinn, climbed the hills of Kimbercote in search of tracks in the snow.

 Winter seems to have finally arrived here in the Beaver Valley and with it comes that white blanket that makes our job so much easier. Rabbits, squirrels, mice, deer, and many others leave their marks clearly in the snow and give us the opportunity to really study gaits. We covered the majority of the 100 acre property and spent some time on the Bruce Trail. 

The highlight had to be the tracks of a large deer moving just ahead of us in our wanderings. Maybe next time we’ll get to see it make those tracks and I hope you’ll join us in the search!

Garrin Carter

Tracking Club marks the important stuff

Better late than never they say. Nature felt this was the time to deliver the rains it had held close all summer onto the lands here in the Beaver-Valley area. I’m sure the rivers and ponds were quite thankful but it was a bit much for our monthly Beaver-Valley & Blue Mountain Tracking Club meeting to go out on the land. 

While not quite perfect tracking weather it was a great opportunity for us to gather in the bottom of the newly renovated Kimbercote barn and scrape some wood into fine new bows.

With projects in hand we settled in for a nice day of carving and conversation. Between draw knife strokes we talked of deer moving through the property and acorn production. We tillered and reminisced of tree climbing in our youth. Kyle shared some great stories of growing up from B.C. to the East Coast and a special ‘Thank You’ goes to Lisa Christine, who made a wonderful salad to share.

Hopefully next time we can get out and put our noses to the ground but to be honest we can do that anytime by ourselves. We get together to share with each other and build community. Some days don’t always take you to the places you think you’ll end up at when you walk out the door but this one gave us an opportunity to build connections with people we can relate to which is what community is really all about.

~Garrin Carter

2012 Apprentice

(Photo credit: Nicole Carter)

To Build a Bow

Looking at the Sticks and Stones course calendar long ago I saw the heading ‘Bow Making’ and a wave of excitement washed over me. I’ve had a big place in my heart for archery since I was 11 when I took two archery courses at the local YMCA. For years I would shoot my little bow at the side of the house until my arms grew sore. A little while back I rekindled that love of the bow and have since tried my hand at field archery, hunting, and indoor target shooting. I own a few bows now but what I’ve always wanted is a bow I’ve made with my own two hands. I started looking into making bows but got intimidated and never followed through. This has been a chance to realize that long held desire.

Everything I had read in the past implied the steps were as simple as shape the wood, bend it, and shoot it. The truth is you need to know the wood you are working with intimately. You learn every bump and groove, every bend and knot. At the end of a long satisfying day of scraping you can close your eyes and see the grain. While the tools and the steps in building a bow are simple, it’s the patience and the care you take that truly create the final product.

I think back today to the large quartered log I started with and find it almost hard to believe that the beautiful piece I have now was once in there. Skeet often referred to bow building as ‘learning to speak wood’. I feel this experience has been the first few words in what I hope to be a long conversation.

-Garrin Carter  

2012 Apprentice

The Miracle of Tracking

Tracking is a skill that has been around since the dawn of time. It’s not even a strictly human phenomenon. The origin of tracking represents interpretation of life, in the form of story and adventure. The human ability to track, to understand cause and effect within the environment and ourselves, is perhaps what our large brains developed for, and what makes us human. The San Bushmen of the Kalahari are a culture that epitomizes what it means to be master trackers, and interpreters of a landbase – they know the tracks of their Cheetah friends as well as they know the wrinkles on their own faces.

At Sticks and Stones Wilderness School, we consider tracking to be part of the miracle of life. There is truly no better way to understand yourself and your place in the natural world around you. To track, you must become the animal you are following... you must move like they move, see the food that they see and the shelter that they seek, and hear and smell the animals around them that peak their interest. Some say that you can’t know somebody else until you walk a mile in their shoes. And tracking is exactly that empathetic ability.

I came up for a Winter Wildlife Tracking course at the school to better understand tracking. Having grown up in the city, it was difficult for me to realize the importance of tracking in the modern world. Unfortunately, most of our modern lives do not enable us to interact positively with the animals around us. It took me a while to get past the cultural barrier that prevents many of us today from becoming passionate about tracking.

The Bushmen are an example of a culture that has lived in tune with the natural world for thousands of years, and they have done that using tracking as an integral part of their way of life. They track because it feeds them – whether it’s hunting or fueling their souls with natural wonder and curiosity. Their stories are about the beauty of the savannah, their heroes are the great rains that fuel their ecosystem, and their neighbours are the animals that feed them. Asking a child of their culture why they track would be akin to asking a Kudu why it eats grass.

When I really got my face in the snow, I came to a few realizations. Firstly, when you adopt the attitude that everything you need to know is right in front of you, you come to know that you are able to solve any mystery, natural or otherwise. I was never good at math or physics, but I am relieved in knowing that tracking is just as hard, and that if you can track, you can really do anything humans are capable of. If Einstein was indigenous, he undoubtedly would have been a master tracker.

When I first started tracking, I felt dumb. As a city boy, I am not used to questioning and discerning things for myself (the TTC is over there, marked by a flashing sign, great... and oh, the sidewalk is there, with a road with cars on it – all is crystal clear). Skeet and I trailed two deer over the course of the weekend, though I didn’t know the tracks were being made as we followed them. Every once in a while we would come across tracks that showed them stopping to sniff and look at something in the direction we were coming from. Skeet kept asking me what they were doing, and I have to admit it took me quite some time before I came to the obvious (well, maybe in hindsight) conclusion that they were watching us the whole time. It took me a while to build confidence in my deductive abilities, and I suppose that makes sense, because like any muscle, the questioning mind requires exercise.

A white-tailed deer pauses to track us as we drive by

I plan to track coyotes at home in Toronto. I am truly learning how to question things in the wild, and how to read the answers that are always written on the landscape. I’ve also learned that to be a sustainable, Earth-based culture, we need to apply all our smarts usually reserved for physics, engineering, and complex mathematics to the natural world – which is what tracking does. And if you ever take up tracking, you may find it feels a lot more natural than other academic pursuits, perhaps because our brains have evolved to analyze nature.

Why does tracking in the modern world have to be any different for us than it is to the San Bushmen? Do we not all crave connection with the magnificent animals around us? Are we not in desperate need today of cultures that live in tune with their landbases? Does tracking not fuel our natural curiosity, and pattern our brains in a healthy way? Is hunting not a viable way to put food on the table? At Sticks and Stones, tracking is no less sacred to us than it is to the thousands of indigenous cultures in the past who have included tracking in their way of being. The tracks of our animal neighbours are invitations for us to come back to the natural world we have tried to leave behind.

York Region Planning and Development and Survival!

Wilderness skills aren't just about the wilderness. Survival skills aren't just something you use when you wander too far into the woods. The York Region Planning and Development Department learned these things this week, as Sticks and Stones was invited to provide a day of out of the ordinary activities for their annual Christmas celebration.

It was not your usual corporate gathering. Lunch was served before the city staff received their real treat. It was a cold day, with some flurries... most were shocked to learn that they would be spending it outside, learning survival skills. Skeet's introductory talk definitely sparked excitement. The students would be rotated through four stations, learning fire by friction, archery, tracking, and the basics of outdoor clothing (shelter) and water purification. It was a team building exercise, and a competition to see who could learn the most. And all did learn!

The most important lesson of the day was that life in the wild isn't all that different from life in the city. The deer spend their days foraging, hanging out in social spots, mating, looking for good shelter for the winter and keeping track of the health of their community. We spend our days working in departments like that of York Region to pay the bills for food, clothing, and entertainment. We make city plans and developments so that our community may be strong for the future generations. As living creatures, we're not so different than the deer, engaged in our own circle of life that provides for ourselves and those who will follow and continue the cycle. Survival is really just life, and we're all in it together.

A Year of Intern Life

It's the start of the winter, and many things have changed. A blizzard has piled the snow around the doors, and the air is chilly. Interns Dave, Drasko and Mike have packed up and shipped themselves home. The workshop, for once, is still and empty... but Kate's stomach is full, and she and Skeet are anxiously awaiting the birth of their first child.

The term started with Mike's arrival in May. From the get go, it was an experiential learning experience for the interns and Skeet. The Residential Program will be in full swing in 2011 -- the interns of 2010 all signed up early to act as guinea pigs for the program, and in return were provided with the opportunity ahead of time.

After taking the Empowering Ancient Ways course at the school in April, Mike was passionate enough about what he'd learned to make Skeet the offer of helping to establish a baseline for future interns, in return for his mentoring. And so arrived the first intern, full of excitement and ready for the challenges that would come.

Mike came to the school with a military background, and was eager to expand his worldview. He began his internship with a passion for all things primitive, and "Back-to-the-Earth" living, learning about wild edibles, sleeping outside in debris huts, making bow drill fires, and studying the animals that lived in the forest with him. He made his own bow and arrows, helped harvest a local steer, and pushed his outdoor living skills from the get go in May up until the end of November.

The depth of growth that would come from Mike's experience was past what he had expected. In living simply, in touch with all the realities of life, he developed a sense of everyday meaning and focus. He began to understand the complexities of the modern world that had so troubled him. He's since realized that you do not have to sleep in a debris hut to attune yourself to the natural world, as everything is, in essence, natural. He plans to apply his learned, wilderness work ethic to studies at the University of Toronto in Environmental Studies. He dreams of making sustainability in the city a serious reality by localizing everything he can and limiting our energy consumption.

Drasko arrived as an intern in August, after having already been to school, freshly graduated from the University of Western Ontario with an undergraduate degree in psychology. He has taken courses at the Tracker School in New Jersey, taught by Tom Brown Jr., who was also Skeet's mentor.

Drasko's internship began with more experience under his belt, and upon showing up with a tipi to camp out in, he was ready to test himself. His internship differed from Mike's by nature of having already had some of the experiences he had had, and Drasko made it his personal goal to cook during the classes and help out as much as he could with the school. He came to the school to connect with like-minds, and to receive mentoring he was longing for through Skeet.

He began by diving into the "core routines" of nature connection, focusing on journaling and going to a sit spot, with the Kamana Naturalist Training Program (http://kamana.org/) as a guide. He experienced outdoor life in his tipi right up until the colder months, but began to experience unexpected challenges with eczema, and joined the other interns to sleep by the wood stove in the barn. He's learned that there will always be obstacles to overcome in life, and that the only way to get to the other side is by jumping the hurdle, no matter how big. He plans to continue his routines at home in London, Ontario, studying with a tested zest and running workshops through his organization, Track My Back. Future plans include travel, and playing in a local band.

Dave came to the school from Algonquin park, and isn't a musician -- yet. Learning to play the guitar was one of the many pastimes he picked up during his internship. Dave showed up in August, and was already used to the outdoors, having worked as an Interior Ranger for several seasons. Like Drasko, Dave's passion for primitive skills comes with experience, and perhaps the best kind. As a youngster, he struggled to teach himself how to make a bow drill fire in his basement for months. Now, he "pops coals" in 20 seconds or less. He's taken courses with Outward Bound, and at Sticks and Stones before his internship, and knows Skeet as a friend. He couldn't say no to the opportunity to practice his naturalist skills and help out around the school.

Having been tempered by the wilderness already, Dave's challenges were different from the other interns. He has learned about mentoring and community, and was pushed from the beginning of his time at the school when he signed up for the Art of Mentoring class run through the P.I.N.E. Project of Toronto. Expressing himself openly and participating in a culture of growth is something that he's come to appreciate, as he gets older and thinks about settling down.

As well as being mentored by Skeet, Dave had the chance to practice his own mentoring skills with Mike and Drasko, constantly quizzing them both on their knowledge of birds, something he is continually passionate about. He has honed those skills even further, having had the chance to be surrounded by a group interested in learning from him. He has done much the same thing by teaching Mike how to handle tools and split wood, and they are both the better for it.

Individual growth is a stepping stone to community growth, but it's definitely a two-way street. As the interns have poured themselves into their own goals, they have also poured themselves into the school. After six months of focus, the program is it a point where there is little difference between the growth of the interns and the the growth of the school, for they are truly two roots of the same tree. All interns contribute community hours throughout the week and have more than enough free time to pursue their own goals. A healthy trunk has given way to young branches, and there is little doubt that more will grow, thanks to the thriving network of life that is working hard to make it so.

The "official" Residential Program is in the works for next season. Babies are soon to be born in this one. What has been accomplished is testament to the miracle of life itself, and there is deep gratitude all around. Who knows what growth will continue, but it is for certain that the seeds of life and energy have been planted deeply and firmly in the foundations of the school (and in Kate's belly). Thank you to all the students who have joined us on our journey so far, and we look forward to making new tracks with old and new friends in the future.

The White-tailed Deer of Southern Ontario

For the past week at the school, white-tailed deer have been quite the neighbours. Very quiet, elusive, and reserved neighbours... and all interactions with them have produced a sense of majestic awe in their viewers.

The entire week was dedicated to their pursuit, either with bow or camera. The world of stalking and still hunting empowered students in awareness of the moment, and all were blessed by the beauty of the animals they saw, heard, and tracked.

Students began the course practicing the ancient skill of the sit spot. Finding a spot to sit in the woods, to watch, listen and observe the life around you, is a core routine for not only hunting, but for practicing awareness as well.

The start of the week was focused on sitting in its purest form. Students were taught to slow down with no other motive, and to pay attention to the details of their surroundings, and when they came back in, to relive their experiences in the form of stories and journals.

The quest for deer would take the class to several properties in the Orangeville area. Many of the landowners are members of the Managed Forest Tax Incentive Plan, and provide the school with the opportunity to explore their healthy forests.

Students learned that the areas most populated by deer always have cover (evergreens, valleys, corn fields), food (apples, acorns, beech nuts, shrubs), good hiding spots for socializing, and water. Upon arriving at a new property, it was the job of the students to discover, map and examine how these four ingredients fit together, and to choose a sit spot based on their own predictions.

Most hunters go out before sunrise so the birds and squirrels aren't put on edge, return midday for lunch and siesta time, and head out again late afternoon. For traditional bow hunters, siesta time is a bit of a misnomer. There are always arrows to make and targets to shoot.

Doug Getgood, a student this year, used his siesta time to train his arm to shoot without his compound bow. He decided to switch to his traditional recurve halfway through the week. Intern Mike used his time to finish his self-made hickory longbow, and to learn how to shoot it. There is something about traditional archery that honours the hunt, perhaps simply because of the hard work that goes into it.

But the biggest lesson of the week was in learning how to be invisible. It is one thing to be a successful deer hunter or photographer. It is quite another to do so without the deer knowing, using stealth, camouflage, and awareness.

It is a great pleasure to observe wild deer. Being invisible in the woods returns that honour by disturbing them as little as possible -- much as we take our shoes off and leave our noisy voices outside our own homes, we can do the same in the forest by slowing down and being grateful for all the gifts the deer give us, and by respecting their space.

Thank you to the white-tailed deer for the wonder and lessons that you have given us.