This post was originally published in a magazine but after spending the weekend weaving perfectly useable kit carrying devices using only willow wands and rushes, I thought it deserved an airing!
When I first started down this route over twenty five years ago, it was with a view to learning the essential survival skills that might give me the edge in an unplanned outdoor emergency but I never really devoted a lot of thought to where I was heading and why. Over the years my direction has seemingly changed from ‘survival training’ leaning more towards the traditional crafts and wilderness living skills collectively known today as ‘bushcraft’ although the effortless merging from one into the other implies that this had been my intended journey all along. I was just addressing it by the wrong name!
When I first started down this route over twenty five years ago, it was with a view to learning the essential survival skills that might give me the edge in an unplanned outdoor emergency but I never really devoted a lot of thought to where I was heading and why. Over the years my direction has seemingly changed from ‘survival training’ leaning more towards the traditional crafts and wilderness living skills collectively known today as ‘bushcraft’ although the effortless merging from one into the other implies that this had been my intended journey all along. I was just addressing it by the wrong name!
Those of us
who like to trace a skill back to it’s roots in order to understand it
completely, look to the sketchy clues of the past for inspiration. More recent,
well documented hunter gatherer societies help to fill in the gaps but every
now and again a window to the past is unearthed enabling us to see first-hand,
how ancient people, not too different from us today, were able to live in
relative comfort long before we all needed bushcraft knives costing more than a
family car and branded waterproof coats flown into the UK from the other side
of the world.
One such
window discovered in the Otztal Alps, September 1991 was Otzi, the ice mummy found still surrounded by a good
amount of his personal possessions just over 5,000 years after perishing in the
snow. Setting aside the mysterious circumstances of his demise for now, the
fact that he was moving through such treacherous terrain meant that he must’ve
had total confidence in his clothing and gear to even consider it as a
realistic option. No goretex covered, down filled jacket for this chap!
Instead, his outfit had been skilfully made up from grasses, animal hides,
bark, stone, sinews and wood. Everything
he carried and wore had been crafted from the woods, rivers, mountains and
meadows he had lived amongst all his life. So based on this evidence and other
similar examples, a motivated and skilled bushcrafter could theoretically put
together a whole outfit, proving that everything a person needs really can be
found in or made entirely from natural resources. That’s quite a challenge! We’ll need
something to carry it all in…
Construction:
My first job was to cut and bend a two metre length of hazel wood. Having had some success with steaming and bending wood in the past I decided to give it a whirl by suspending the hazel rod over a steaming pot of water, covering both rod and pot with a damp towel. The rod was quite thick and the bend in the middle, pretty tight so my first couple of steaming attempts resulted in splintered hazel. ‘Let’s keep this simple’ I thought so I decided to gently coax the freshly cut section by hand, around a stump acting as a former. This worked well so after scraping the bark off, I tied the frame in position to let it ‘set’ overnight.
Bending a green hazel rod around a former
Leaving the rod to 'set' in position
Otzi’s
original back boards were larch wood (yet I’ve also read that they were elm) so
just to be different, I made one from yew and the other from field maple. These
back boards were split from round timber then carved into two thin planks. I
drilled two holes in each end to provide secure lashing points, of course using
a flint burin mounted into a hand drill spindle using rawhide lashing and pitch.
This worked very well indeed! As I had every intention of using the pack frame
I wanted to improve on the original by sealing the wooden parts with birch tar
and using deer skin rawhide for really strong, durable lashings instead of the
original plant fibre cordage. The rawhide lashings would be applied damp,
shrinking as they dried gripping the work even tighter. My birch tar coating
gave the wood a nice ‘antique’ effect and strong creosote smell which appealed
to the eye but definitely not the nose (although it did keep the bugs away).
The shoulder
straps were made from two 3” wide lengths of fallow buckskin, stitched around
the frame with buckskin thonging and tied in place around the horns at the
bottom end. I couldn’t help thinking the finished article looked similar to a
snowshoe which, funnily enough is another theory as to it’s original use.
Lashing the backboards
Finished frame with buckskin straps
In use:
With pack
frame finished and birch tar dry I got to work loading up the frame for a test
run. In the absence of a goat skin bag I rolled up my standard day sack kit in
a heavily smoked red deer hide and lashed it to the frame with cordage for a
touch of authenticity. The frame felt extremely light and the fit was good. As
the hazel rod still hadn’t seasoned fully, in theory the green wood frame would
conform to the shape of my back during use. The buckskin straps had plenty of
room for adjustment and enough spare end to take them from the bottom of the
frame and around my waist, tying with a reef knot. This lifted the pack slightly
placing it higher over my centre of gravity and taking some of the strain away
from my shoulders and neck. I had just re-invented the rucksack waist belt and
wondered if Otzi and his mates would have taken advantage of this unplanned
bonus too. With the addition of some padding on the back boards this pack frame
would not be too dissimilar to any of my modern packs for lightness and
comfort!
Loaded up with belongings wrapped in a heavily smoked red deer hide
The burden basket:
At this
point, all I had to compare Otzi’s pack frame with was my plethora of modern,
traditional hiking rucksacks so in the interests of experimentation I decided
to make a completely different load carrying system using sticks, skins and
string, the burden basket.
Burden
baskets have been used for centuries and still are the world over for carrying
heavy loads. The conical shape is an extremely strong design and allows
lightweight materials to be used in it’s construction. Typical carrying methods
include shoulder straps or a ‘tump line’ (wide strap around the forehead or
chest). They can even be fitted either side of a mule or similar beast for
hauling a serious amount of gear. Some can be quite decorative, made up from
coiled grasses and plant fibres while others are more rough and ready. I went
for the rough and ready option, a rigid warp and flexible weft open weave
design using green hazel rods and rawhide cordage. This model is apparently
influenced by several different cultures from Mexico to Africa and with access
to suitable materials, can be put together very quickly.
Before
bending any hazel rods, I snipped my way through the remaining supply of fallow
deer rawhide, cutting an ever decreasing spiral to create very long continuous
lengths once soaked and stretched. With the rawhide lashing and weaving
material soaking I carefully bent three similar sized green hazel rods around a
former, then another two for spares, plus three hoops for the rigid wefts and
left them to set in position. As with my Otzi pack frame, these had the bark
scraped off and a coating of birch tar to seal the wood. Once the hazel components were dry and the
rawhide had become flexible again, the three ‘ribs’ were lashed in place to
give six equal gaps between warps.
Cutting a spiral of rawhide
Lashing the three hazel hoops in position
The hoops
were bound securely in place using rawhide lashings, starting near the base
with the smallest and working up to the largest at the top giving the framework
a natural flared opening. Soaked and stretched rawhide warps were taken from bottom
to top and back again, spiralling around the hoops to tie each section more
firmly in place. Lastly, a rawhide weft was started at the top and worked down
to the base wrapping around rigid and flexible warps alike, creating a strong
mesh. A buckskin tumpline was fitted and my second (and much prettier) pack
frame was ready to trial.
Adding in a strengthening hoop
Fitting an intermediate hoop and strong rim
Rawhide warps
Rawhide wefts close up
In use:
Whilst being
vastly differing designs, both packs required an additional weatherproof bag to
contain small items of kit although the burden basket did not need any further
lashings to accept the load. Everything sat inside nicely. The burden basket
did exactly what it said on the tin, swallowing up a vast amount of heavy kit.
I was amazed at how much kit it could take and impressed at the concept. Each
of the individual components on their own were not particularly robust but when
woven into a strong but flexible mesh their different qualities combined made a
tough bit of kit. It could probably even be used as a fish trap with a bit of
imagination!
Buckskin tumpline fitted although this is likely to be replaced/reinforced with shoulder straps
However, it’s certainly not that comfortable when you need to be
nimble and light on your feet. This is where Otzi’s pack frame edges into pole
position in my opinion. It’s still robust enough to carry your kit but won’t
swing about as much or attempt to break your neck when ducking under branches
and skipping over logs. My plan now is to oak bark tan a couple of nice thick
fallow deer hides to make a roll top, leather sack for it, probably treated
with a mixture of animal fat and birch tar to make a kind of primitive dry bag.
So in summary, the burden basket is fantastic for lugging heavy loads but my
Otzi pack will always be sitting on the top, holding all my essential kit ready
to grab and go as soon as the heavy kit can be left behind.
All loaded up and taking it out for a spin. The high position is better for load carrying but a bit unstable with just the tumpline fitted. More traditional models are shaped more like a cone which seems to dovetail better with the tumpline strap and aid stability