Last night, as I completed an uneventful walk—due largely to the enraged state I was in, which seemed to mark me as the skunk of mugging victims—I noticed a Dindu in black pants, black sneakers and a gray hoody, walking out of the band of trees ad brush lining the steep bank between Middle River Bridge and the new Marina.
As I walked through the mini-park, with the rat grass grown high in decorative bunches, forming both a windbreak and a solid screen, preventing cops from seeing the last curve of park benches, I sensed something was wrong and became more vigilant. This was a good gun robbery place and I only had a knife.
For only three paces I was treated to the sight of the night, a sight that reminded me of the Plains Indian War Shelter replica in the Plains Indian Museum at Cody, Wyoming. Small groups of raiding or question warriors would built a conical shelter of lodge pole pines and deadfalls in wooded creek bottoms. The shelter was self enclosing and could be pushed out of in any direction, but not easily pushed in. These shelters were intended to keep warriors warm when lighting a fire was too risky at night. Well, some Dindu warrior and his family had build a similar shelter, using cardboard as a fire blind, and was grilling out 30 feet from the second busiest primary street I the Baltimore area. His mate was bringing hotdogs from the 7-11, at 11:17 P.M.
I looked for his fire—and it was a hot one—from four vantages and was unable to spot it from any position other than those three paces on the sidewalk—the blink of an eye in a passing car.
Ishmael, Shayne, I had an idea that after your brief attempt to make a frontiersmen out of me, I would be coming back to a wilder frontier, but had no clue that it would be this true.
Oh yes, I almost got popped for my trouble, as I looked for the shelter from the railing of the bridge. A Dindu brave on a BMX bike approached me in the dark and said, "Hey buddy, as he reached into his pocket with one hand and shined his cell phone on me as a torch with the other. As I turned and drew my knife he bolted—the kid looked like Bruce Leroy, from the Ultimate Fighter TV show.
James, 7 11 weenies? when you see them grilling a haunch of venison, or rabbits on a stick, they my be worthy adversaries, you think grilling Whitey is next?
James, 7 11 weenies? when you see them grilling a haunch of venison, or rabbits on a stick, they my be worthy adversaries, you think grilling Whitey is next?
These people have shit for brains. If Whites ever turn back to tribalism and start defending themselves they will be predated quickly.
I once did a solo bike trip from Croatia to IsrŠ°el. Stealth camping was a big thing-roll up in a place around twilight and set up a hidden bivouac. You can get pretty stealthy in most places, even in medium/large-sized towns there are often creek beds and stands of brush/trees. Even a small fire is often doable (without going the whole SERE school route of underground fires and all that.)
I've never had a random person walk up on me. Packs of wild dogs, hogs and one time a shepherd with his flock early in the morning when camped out in a ruined Greek temple, but never a random guy.
Many places, you can move 15-40 meters off a trail and effectively disappear.
I used to go canoeing/camping a lot. I have one of these Hennessy Hammocks. I can't remember which one I have I think the Expedition Asym Classic, They're expensive but high quality stuff. I've been real pleased with mine. It's great not to sleep on the ground with the creepy crawlers and where I live finding trees is no problem. If you lived in the West I believe you could rig some kind of tensegrity structure to hang from.
hennessyhammock.com/collections/hammocks
Can anyone give me more information where and how to pitch shelters in hostile environments so that no one can sneak up on you while you sleep and which kind of shelters to use?