Outback2basics are organising an Ancestral Skills weekend from Saturday 5 until Monday 7 May 2012. Read on to find out why, with more details of the weekend below
Naomi Walmsley describes what she learned in the wild
Our ancestors engaged daily with their natural environment. We invite you to join us to relearn some of these lost skills. Step outside your comfort zone. Immerse yourself in Nature.
On 28 April 2010 my partner Dan and I flew to America and journeyed out to the small town of Twisp, Eastern Washington, right on the edge of the North Cascades, to a place far far away. All we knew was that for the next few months we would be learning primitive and traditional skills, working our way towards living an entirely Stone Age existence for several weeks. We had been fortunate to meet up with our teacher Lynx and her friend and fellow teacher Rico when they visited England. We had come together in a park on the outskirts of London, and the last thing we had expected to see was a couple walking through London dressed from head to toe in buckskins! Nor did we know at that point how normal and familiar that sight would become to us.
Dan and I had been learning bushcraft and outdoor skills for the previous 4 years, but nothing compared to what we were about to learn. The first 4 months with Lynx was classed as a preparation period, time spent learning the skills and crafts needed for our Stone Age experience. Each class was a step further into living in the wild. Amongst many things we learned during that time was the making of stone and bone tools, wild-animal preparation, natural fire making, hide tanning, clothes and moccasin making, flint knapping, blanket felting, pottery, foraging, drying and preserving food, fishing line and hook making and, at the heart of it all, community living – an intrinsic skill needed when looking at the task ahead of us. Each class, each new skill equipped us physically, mentally and practically, but nothing could truly prepare us for the Stone Age, the determination needed, and the emotions we would face head on.
Finally the day came for our Stone Age immersion. It was amazing to see everything laid out ready to be packed, all handmade from scratch from natural materials, with nothing included that we did not absolutely need. I felt such pride arranging these handcrafted items to be wrapped in our felted blankets and folded into backpacks. All the food was weighed out and buffalo fat was distributed between gourds, each day accounted for, every calorie in protein and fat wrapped up like gold dust.
I remember clearly my feelings of apprehension and excitement the night we set off. We were clad from head to toe in buckskins, our 50lb blanket packs uncomfortably fitting on our backs, the buffalo straps digging in, our thinly moccasined feet itching to go. We were all pulsing with anticipation, just waiting for night to fall. Lynx wanted us to leave under the disguise of night. We would slip out of society, she said, and into the ‘real’ world unnoticed.
We climbed into the back of a pick-up truck at around 11pm, blessed with a crystal-clear night full of stars, an owl flying alongside guiding our way. We drove in silence, everyone deep in their own thoughts. We left the truck and walked the first few miles without speaking, all wrapped up in our own journeys. We walked and walked and walked. Up, up, up. We reached the first of many destinations several hours later. Lynx lit a fire. We shared some thoughts, ate some jerky, laid out our sheepskins and felted blankets and succumbed to the call of sleep. Our journey had truly begun.
There were six in our tribe: Dan and I, John Michael, JT, Lynx and Eric. The only contact we had with the outside world was the occasional hikers we passed, confused and intrigued looks on their faces. It was summertime, but we were high up in the mountains, and it even snowed once. We spent most of the daylight hours walking, foraging for greens and berries, swimming, fixing holes in worn moccasins, and exploring. Our days felt full and long. We awoke with the sun and went to bed as it set. We ate when we were hungry, no longer governed by clocks or diaries. We met some of the locals, including a young bear, groundhogs, pikas and a majestic mountain goat. What was strange was how unafraid of us they were. Some were even intrigued, creeping closer for a better look. It led us to wonder whether the wild animals were getting tamer or we were getting closer to being wild. We certainly were looking wilder by this time, relying only on each another for updates of our appearance, or finding different ways to see our reflections. I remember one day tying my hair up using the silhouette of my shadow, and another day looking on in wonder as I saw a vague replica of my face in a pool of water. I was certainly beginning to feel more feral, more alive. Dirt was ingrained in the cracks of our skin, and our clothes were black with charcoal from walking through freshly burned forest. The colours of our clothes muted into the background, helping to camouflage us in the landscape. I was beginning to feel lighter, too.
People often ask if we were hungry during the experience or if we were affected by our new diet. A fortnight before we set out on our wilderness journey, we had been urged to give up all sugars, most carbohydrates, and wheat, alcohol and tobacco, to give our bodies a chance to adjust. So, by the time we went out, our bodies were accustomed to a high-protein, high-fat diet. We had foraged and dried all the food we could carry prior to the Stone Age immersion. We had processed a whole buffalo with stone tools and had made jerky and pemmican and rendered the fat. We would have to count on hunting for anything fresh. Lynx and the men had bows and arrows. I had a slingshot. But the grouse did not need to fear me, as I was a lousy shot. No deer in sight. Between them the men brought two grouse and a squirrel to the table. We cooked them on the fire and gnawed at the bones like hungry cavemen.
We had no plan, no map, no time frame and no modern kit. We wore nothing but the buckskins we had made, used no other tools than those of stone, bone or wood, and ate only foods we’d hunted, fished or foraged. We slept under the stars, with a rock for a pillow if we were lucky, huddled close to each other for warmth, the odd jagged rock warmed by the fire acting as a hot-water bottle. We swam in lakes so beautiful that photographs don’t do them justice, and took in sights so breathtaking that words couldn’t paint the same picture. We felt truly alive.
We emerged after 17 days, tired and exhilarated, our skins mapped out with a thousand lines of ingrained dirt, and excited to share our stories. We felt really passionate about the skills we had learnt and were eager to pass on our knowledge. So Dan and I have set up Outback2basics, where we teach primitive and traditional skills. We offer many different courses, from felting and hide tanning to fire lighting and wild cooking, as well as our ever popular bushcraft birthday parties, which encourage children to get out and use the woodlands.
To give a taste of our time in the American wilderness, we have put together an Ancestral Skills weekend that will take place in Shropshire from 5 to 7 May 2012. During this weekend we will teach people how to make horsehair fishing lines and bone hooks and how to build a shelter to sleep in, as well as natural fire-lighting, tracking and navigation skills.
For a more intense experience, our 7-day Primitive Living course in the Pyrenees will run from 28 August to 6 September 2012 and will be followed by an optional 3-day immersion in the wilderness. During this course, participants will learn the ancient skills of our ancestors, including hide tanning, flint knapping and pottery. Step away from your comfort zone and come and join us for a physically and mentally demanding but eye-opening experience. Learn to see your natural environment like never before.
For more information about our workshops and courses, visit www.outback2basics.co.uk or email outback2basics@gmail.com.
Naomi Walmsley lives with her partner Dan in Little Wenlock, Shropshire. She has just had a baby, so she is taking a short break, but otherwise she teaches primitive and traditional skills in the woods to adults and children.
