Seconded on the big ol' sheath knife--worn on a belt, of course, to keep it handy for skinnin' barrs. They actually didn't allow us to have them in Scouts because of a kid who stabbed himself in the thigh because the knife worked its way through the sheath while he was crossing a log.

I waan't there; evidently it was quite bloody.

D-cell flashlights come to mind. Way too many clothes, of course. Then there was the time I soloed with a hammock and a two-bag sleep system comprising a liner bag with half-zip and an overbag with a zipper on the opposite side atop a foam pad. In three miserable nights I was NEVER able to get completely inside both, and they twisted me into a half-warmed burrito while underneath, the pad would turn sideways.

Big book that never gets opened?

Cheers,