As a youth, I read books by Angier and Col. Whelen. I also read their articles in outdoor magazines. I harbored ideas of living off the land and having no responibilities. Then life happened. My best friend and I spent most of our weekends camping by a creek in the foothills near a family friends ranch. We didn't drive yet, so his mom would drop us off and mine would pick us up. We had an Army surplus WWII napsack and a Boyscout aluminum packframe with a canvas pack. Our cooking pot was a coffee can with a baling wire handle and we cooked over a campfire. We slept under the stars or a lean to. Life was good ! We learned a lot, like about sleeping too near a campfire in a synthetic sleeping bag <img src="/forums/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" />. We always had our knive swith us. They were eating utensils, can openers and all around construction tools. I have always carried everyday even now. We also always sneaked out our .22 rifles( our parents didn't see our need for them like we did). Not a camping trip goes by that I don't go back to those simpler times in my mind. Even little things like the smell of campfire smoke can do it.