Crouched around a campfire with a growling belly was no fine place to find yourself in the pioneer days of America. But, though the fare might be lean and bordering on bland, a well-supplied traveler on a long trek would probably have eaten corn dodgers along the way. Likely he would have some in his satchel, already cooked and waiting for him to crumble them into his bacon grease for breakfast. But even if they weren’t pre-made, he would have scooped some corn meal from a sack in his satchel and formed up some simple corn cakes to fry, called at various times and in various locations corn pones, jonny cakes, journey cakes, ash-cakes, corn dodgers and hoecakes.

He fires his kindling on the wide-open plains just after sunup to get his campfire started. Sets his coffee water to boil and a skillet on to fry up what little bacon he had left over from the last store he saw, five days earlier. With the bacon fried, he’d crumble a few corn dodgers into the bacon grease and eat what might be his last good meal for a few days or weeks, unless he got lucky hunting. But fortunately he had the foresight to cook up a sackful of pones before he left on this trail, so though he may not be eating well, he at least will be eating.

How to make a batch of corn dodgers
Ingredients:

• 1 cup cornmeal
• 1 1/3 cup boiling water
• lard, oil or grease

Preparation:
Pour boiling water over the cornmeal and stir. Leave the mixture to sit for a few minutes, letting it thicken (if it gets too thick add another splash of water or two). Form the mixture into small, round patty cakes, then place each cake into a hot, greased skillet and fry for a few minutes on each side.

The Tao of Hardtack
Only slightly worse-off were the Jack tars of the Age of Sail, plying their heaps of timber and canvas and rope from one bleak ocean panorama to the next. Their ship’s biscuits may have been harder than an aged pone, but only by a thin margin. Fortunately for the sailor, he also had his daily ration of grog in which to soak his biscuit, or some salt pork or dried peas for accompaniment (in general). Ship’s biscuit would last for years and years so long as it never got wet, and it was inexpensive to mass produce, making it ideal for long voyages away from food sources. On land, ship’s biscuit was known as hardtack. Some hardtack has been known to last 30 and 40 years and remain as edible as it was the day it came out of the oven. And probably just as tasty, too. Note: hardtack was sometimes called “tooth dullers” and “sheet iron.”

Hardtack and corn pone have in ages past been a staple of the diet of adventurers on the land and on the sea, from Livingstone and Stanley to Lewis and Clark. Today, they aren’t good for much of anything but nostalgia. But then, around here we love us some nostalgia, so maybe we’ll make a batch or two.The recipes can be improved upon a great deal by adding a little sugar, a little salt, and an egg, but if it’s authenticity you’re after, leave it as is.

How to whip up some hardtack
Ingredients:

• 2 cups whole wheat flour
• 1/2 cup water

Preparation:

1. Combine the flour and water.
2. Knead into dough.
3. Sprinkle some flour on your rolling surface and roll the dough flat to a thickness between 1/8″ and 1/2″.
4. Cut into squares. Size varies, try for 3 1/2″ by 2 3/4″ or even 3″x3″ square.
5. Poke some holes in your squares. Use whatever you’ve got on hand: bamboo skewer, ice pick, nail.
6. Bake on an un-greased cookie sheet at 375°F (190°C) for 30 minutes until slightly brown.
7. Flip. Bake again at 375°F (190°C) for 30 minutes more.

The Zen moment ingredients:

1. One sunrise campfire.
2. Some oil or bacon to fry in a pan.
3. A little coffee or tea with the grounds still in the cup.
4. Crumble either hardtack or corn dodger into bacon grease.
5. Maybe pour a tiny bit of coffee in with it (coffee and bacon grease is what’s known as “red-eye gravy”).
6. Enjoy! Your arteries may be hardening even as you’re reading this, but from an authenticity standpoint you’re on the cutting edge.

Corn Dodgers photo by Ted_Major Hardtack photo by Kate & Ryan

A good knot is always easy to untie and keeps the line taut.

What knots should you learn? Well, I’d start off with the bowline (pronounced “boh-lin”) and go from there.  The bowline is one of the most useful knots and exists in one form or another in every sailing culture in the world. After that, it really depends on what your needs are. Animated Knots is a fantastic website with step-by-step instructions for many knots, and the knots are separated into classifications (sailing, climbing, fishing, etc.).

The knots I personally feel are the most valuable, the ones that I know and practice regularly even if I haven’t used them in a while are (in order of importance):

• Bowline
• Half hitch
• Clove hitch
• Sheet bend
• Improved clinch
• Half-Windsor

One omission from the list above that you may notice is the reef (square) knot. The reason for that is simple: You shouldn’t use it. The reef knot is prone to slip and capsize and it is not a very safe knot. It has its uses, and is sometimes good for tying a small load with tension on it, but should never be used to tie two ropes together, as it is most commonly used today. Use a sheet bend or double fisherman’s to tie two ropes together and leave the reef knot in your pocket. Otherwise, leave the reef knot where it belongs: on your shoestrings.

Also you might notice a fisherman’s knot up there (the improved clinch). That’s another knot that everyone should know. Just like we should all know how to bait our own hook, right?

And the final knot in the list is the finest knot for tie tying there is. The half-Windsor is symmetrical, unlike the most common tie knot being used these days, the four-in-hand, which looks lopsided and too small when tightened. I might not have included the half-Windsor in this list, since it is generally a men-only knot. But I know many ladies who are married to many tools who do not know how to properly tie a tie. If your husband is a tool, but you still want him to be well-dressed on occasion, it might be a good idea to break down and learn the knot for yourself. But then even if he does know how to tie his own tie, he will love that you do, too.

In the video below you’ll see me demonstrating my method for tying a bowline. Note that I use the Dutch technique, with the bitter end outside rather than inside the loop. I prefer the Dutch bowline, although mainly for aesthetic purposes. I just don’t like the bitter end floating around in the middle of my loop.

Lists of hiking trails:

• http://www.localhikes.com/

The purpose of this quest is to see the world as it once was. To experience its growth and life as it would be without human intervention. Seek out an old-growth forest, or the nearest thing you can come by in your area. With great care to keep from getting lost, go as far away from the beaten path as you comfortably can.

The only thing that matters is that you have gone into the heart of a still-wild place.

List of old-growth forests:

• http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_old_growth_forests

• No flavor enhancers (MSG).
• No preservatives.
• No artificial sweeteners.

Just pure, wholesome (preferably local), foods. You know you’ve been wanting to do this anyway, right? Well. Now you have an excuse. Your quest is this: Stop eating unhealthy, unnatural food, and start eating whole foods for at least 30 days. Mark it on a calendar if you have to.

You can also use this rule of thumb for manufactured foods: nothing with more than three ingredients. You could live for a month and never eat the same thing twice just by shopping in the canned foods aisle. Never mind that there’s an entire produce and meat department you can also choose your food from. Or follow the “Perimeter Aisle” rule: buy food that is shelved on the grocer’s perimeter aisle only. That’s where most of your natural foods are located. Your best bet though is to ditch the grocer altogether and start shopping at a farmer’s market.

And what do you aim to gain from this experiment? Well, health, for one. One month eating like this can reshape your body and health and put your cholesterol and blood pressure back in line. One month can make a remarkable difference, try it and you’ll see.

And, as an added bonus, it’d be nice for you to realize that whole food isn’t as difficult to prepare as some might think. Some people think that food fresh out of the ground is gross (they do!!), but we know that’s not the truth, right? Give me a tomato with a little dirt on the side that’s free of pesticides and I’ll wipe it off with my thumb and eat it in three bites or less, head reeling at the wonder of how sublimely wonderful a fresh, ripe tomato tastes. That’s another thing this quest can teach you: Tomatoes you buy at the store are not ripe. They are picked green and allowed to “ripen” in transit. If you think a supermarket tomato is the best it gets, you ain’t seen nothing yet. Supermarket tomatoes might look red, but they are as green as can be.

So. What can you eat? Simple. Just follow these simple rules:

• Eat nothing that is man made. Eat only whole foods (and this includes condiments!). Nuts, fruits, vegetables, grains and seeds in their unprocessed, natural form.
• Animal whole foods are fish, eggs, shellfish, fowl. Larger animals count too: venison, beef, pork, etc.
• Drink nothing but water, coffee, 100% fruit juice, wine or tea. Yes, whiskey and beer are probably all natural, too.
• Meat does qualify as a natural food, but beware of steroids hormones fed to the animals while they were alive.
• High fructose corn syrup, though made from corn, is not considered a natural food.
• When cooking whole foods, don’t use unhealthy fat to cook them in. Use olive oil (which is heavy) or sesame oil (light) or something in between.
• Always choose organic: if it’s not labeled organic, a vegetable might have pesticide residue on it. Milk may have steroids or hormones in it. Stay organic whenever you can.
• Can’t stand the thought of going without butter? Make your own.

Photo credit: mutantMandias

This quest is about reconnecting with Mother Earth in a way that people rarely do any more. It’s not unusual for people to dig holes, but these days it is unusual for us to dig a hole and actually pay attention to what we’re doing. Digging is usually, like everything else, a means to an end. We dig a hole to plant a seed or a tree or to set a post, but rarely do we put our hands in the earth just to experience Earth.

In this quest, the digging is the end means, so take your time and do it right. Use a tool or don’t, either way, but don’t use gloves. Get your hands down in the soil and smell it, feel its texture and temperature. Investigate its nuances, its roots, seeds, creatures. Is it rocky or sandy? Is it red or is it rich and black? What does it smell like? What’s its personality?

Take the opportunity, if you like, to plant a seed. An acorn would be a good idea to mark the occasion and provide a constant remembrance of your experience with Earth. Or set a post with a birdhouse on top of it, or just cover the hole back in. Whatever you choose to do, do it for the experience and for knowing that without this wondrous cocktail of growth and decay we wouldn’t exist at all.

1. Pick out a collection of items that you own and that have some value to you.
2. Place them in a container.
3. Now: take it somewhere and bury it.

The container you choose can be anything from a cigar box to a Tupperware container, although in this case the more magical, the more rustic the container looks, the better. Caution: Do not include anything of any real value, nor any questionable items that you might be embarrassed to have found. But you certainly want to include items which, if by happenstance your treasure was found, would not easily be discarded.

When you bury it, choose a location where it will not be discovered by accident, and not on any property that you, your family, or any of your friends own. That’s where it gets tricky. You must bury the treasure in an isolated area, on public land, and do so in such a way as will not be harmful to the environment surrounding it. I can’t suggest you bury your treasure chest on private property, but I wouldn’t tell anyone if you did. The key is for your treasure to go undiscovered, to never be found, until you return for it (Hint: At some point in the future, you may be directed to return for it). Wherever you bury it, make sure you don’t get arrested or shot, unless you’re just itching to have some really cool new scars to show off.

As for the depth of the hole you must dig…it really doesn’t matter. Dig as deep or shallow as you want to, so long as the container is completely concealed underneath the ground. You might want to push some ground cover over the freshly turned dirt to make it less noticeable.

Once you’ve buried it, draw a map to remind you how to get back to it. Be very specific–use a lot of detail. Feel free to use a map printed from any mapping software, but add notes and key landmarks to guide you back to the exact location, perhaps even counting paces from landmarks in specified directions. Even though it’s fine to use mapping software, however, it is very much preferable to draw it entirely yourself. However you craft your map, be absolutely certain that one day you’ll be able to lead yourself, or someone else (wink wink) back the exact spot.

As a precaution, it would be a good idea to mark the spot with a GPS device if you have one, but it’s not required. The most important aspect of this quest is to craft a really excellent map, and to surrender control of some moderately valuable belongings.

Be sure to keep the map in a safe place.

What kind of items should you include? Well, items like:

• A favorite book (although if you include a book you might want to put it in a Ziploc).
• A craft item that you created yourself.
• Something you found in the woods: A feather, claw, antler or arrowhead. Even a pretty rock.
• A scrapbook.
• Anything collectible.
• Make the chest as large or as small as you like, and include as many items or as few as you like. You decide.

This is a good quest to do in unison with the Dig quest. Two for one!

Once your chest is ready, take a picture of it so we can see what it looks like! You can put a link to the pic in the comments below.

Image credit: ToNToN CoPT

Likely, it won’t take very long. Depends on the size of the pile of trash you choose. All you need is a car and some garbage bags. At worst you’d need a pickup truck (if there’s some big stuff. Like old tires and couches).

Or, if you don’t want to tackle a trash pile, choose to clean up a stretch of road that needs attention. Or a shoreline. Anywhere that has an abundance of man-made material that doesn’t belong there, in whatever form, can be cleaned up and needs to be cleaned up. Think of what this planet would look like if every one of us cleaned one small thing that we didn’t have to. Talk about spic and span!

You don’t have to adopt a mile for this quest, or even adopt a river. All you have to do is clean something that once was dirty. Might as well make a party out of it.

Image by DG Jones

Don’t be scared by this quest. It’s really one of the easiest–and most rewarding–quests of all. Rewarding because fresh homemade butter is soooooo good. You’re going to love this.

Now, you could go and get your own milk, as in, milk a cow. Once you’ve got some milk, let the cream rise to the top, scrape it off and there’s your raw material for making butter. Now you need a churn. A churn, if you can find one, can be fairly expensive but will last several lifetimes if you take care of it. I’d go for a ceramic one, but that’s just because it’s what I’m accustomed to. But a churn isn’t absolutely necessary. Here’s  one method you can use and all you need is a jar and some store-bought cream.

If all else fails there’s a smaller hand crank version you can purchase.

As with most things in the world, fresh butter is much better than the butter you buy at the market. But as usual we humans love us some convenience, so we’ve been dumbed down into thinking that margarine or store-bought butter is the real deal. Well, it isn’t, and if you’ll try a little real butter I think you’ll agree with me. The great part about making butter is that it isn’t hard at all.

In the old days, we made butter using a churn. Churns were made in a variety of styles and shapes, often crafted at home out of wood. Store-bought, plunger-type churns were sometimes made of metal, sometimes ceramic. There were also barrel-style churns with a hand crank rather than a plunger. Regardless of the style of churn, however, the process remained–and remains–the same. For homemade butter, you simply burst the milk molecule (or, for you scientific types, you must burst the membrane that surrounds the microscopic butterfat globules). That’s why churning seems like such a violent process. It is. You must bruise the cream to make butter. You have to beat the crap out of it.

First, a little primer on the products of milk:

• First, there is milk. Straight from the cow.
• Left to sit, the cream will rise to the top.
• If you skim the cream off the top of the milk, you are left with “skim milk” in the bottom.
• The cream is what you use to make butter.
• You can use either pasteurized or non-pasteurized cream to make butter. Pasteurized butter is called “sweet cream butter.” Non-pasteurized is called “raw cream butter.”

Now, here’s the part you’ve been waiting for: How to make a small amount of butter for home use.

All you need is a jar and some cream. Just go buy a little carton of cream from the grocery store. Important: Let the cream sit on the counter, unrefrigerated, for around twelve hours. Yes, I know it will sour. It needs to sour. Those little bacteria which turn milk into lactic acid are busy transforming your cream into the perfect butter base. When you open the carton, you should sniff that slightly sour smell and revel in it, because it is good.

So. At this point you want to pour your slightly sour cream into the jar. Tighten that cap nice and tight, and then, grasping the jar by the lid end, shake it. Now, you don’t have to shake it continuously for an hour. Just swing it hard, as if it was a hammer and you were hitting a nail with it. But, of course, don’t actually hit anything with it. Stop it hard, and then swing it again. Stop it, hard, again. Keep doing that, as violently as you can manage, for three or four minutes. You should at the end of that time realize that there’s a lump evolving in your jar. That lump, my friends, is buttery delicious goodness.

There is still some liquid in the jar. That liquid is buttermilk (YAY!!).  My grandmother used to salt and pepper her buttermilk and drink it. And, of course, there’s never been a better biscuit than was made with homemade buttermilk. Anyway, drain the buttermilk out and then fill the jar with cold water. Swirl the jar around–this is to harden the butter. Slowly pour the cloudy water out (this cloudy water can be discarded).

Now put the butter on a board and press down on it to force out any remaining buttermilk. Any left inside will make the butter go sour. What’s left is butter!

If you’d rather not waste your time reading all these instructions, here’s a rather brilliant video on the exact same procedure. Note: It’s not me in the video. It’s a nice gentleman named Robert Krampf.

Further reading:

• http://www.webexhibits.org/butter/

Images by:

• deirdren
• jilldoughtie

There’s another Loggerhead quest in which you were asked to plant a tree. In this quest, you are asked to climb a tree. Preferably not the same one you planted–it probably won’t support your weight. Yet.

Like sleeping outside at night, this quest is intended to help you develop your harmonious relationship with Planet Earth. It doesn’t matter what kind or how tall. It doesn’t matter if you choose a tree that requires a climbing harness and rope and gear or a maple with limbs so low you can walk over and sit on the lower branches. The only caveat is that you please perform this quest safely.

Choose a tree with limbs that can support your weight. Use a ladder if the lower limbs of the tree you’ve decided on are too high to reach. If you can’t reach them with a ladder then that tree is probably too tall, unless you’re a seasoned tree climber. The point is, you don’t necessarily have to be a hundred feet high in a 200-year old oak to fulfill this quest. It is perfectly acceptable to climb a 20-year old maple. Just kick your leg over a limb and work your way up as far as you can comfortably and safely climb. Try not to focus on the ground, just feel the enveloping presence of the tree all around you, wrapping you in its thrilling embrace.

When you get to a stable position, as high as you feel you can safely ascend, stop. Make sure you’re in a safe position, and take stock of your surroundings. Consider your new perspective. If it’s summer, see if you can maneuver the limbs so that you can see through them, past the outside of the tree (in winter this won’t be a problem because there won’t be any leaves. Depending on your location and the type of tree you’re climbing). Study not only the new perspective, but also the life of the tree itself, how the wind shifts its leaves, how the insects move along its limbs, how the sap flows from an old wound, feel the texture of the leaves and the bark. Remember that the fear of height is generally a simple reaction to an unfamiliar perspective (I know that doesn’t make it any easier to deal with, but still), the mind isn’t accustomed to seeing the Earth from this height, and its first reaction always seems to be to reel. Well, try to reel in those instincts and enjoy the new view, even if you’re only ten or twelve feet high. Just do the best you can, experience the moment, and let us know about it!

Bonus points if you climb a coconut palm and harvest the fruit.

Image by: Bah Humbug