Woodsrunning and Bushcraft

Back in simpler days, my dad and I just called it “running around in the woods.” We’d make campfires, fire-harden spears, and hunt rabbits. He’d tell me stories about the times when you could just grab a .22 and your dog and “head into the woods for a few days.” From the moment I could drive, I’d guide trips with my buddies to our hunting leases and state parks.

In this amazing time when we are thick with hobbies and look to common labels to quantify our ample leisure time, but also align ourselves to others who agree to the accepted rules of the game. I’ve found many friends online who are fellow gear nerds, love historical arms and tools, and like to “run around in the woods.” If they call it something like “bushcraft” or “woodslore” and that helps us to define our shared interest in old-school outdoor gear and woodsy skills, not beset by the limitations of a certain time or place in history – then that’s just fine with me.

Back in the paintball days, we’d do a camp or two each year where we worked on “skills” – this was intentionally ill-defined, but including such things as target practice, small game hunting, repairing gear, sharpening knives, throwing knives/axes/throwing stars/glaives, flintknapping, blacksmithing, making fires, building forts and general foolishness in the woods.

Years ago, I found a website of a woods-skills practitioner called “Woodsdrummer,” and this introduced me into the idea that not only were there other folks out there who shared a common interest, but there was potentially a whole community around it. I ordered books I saw in Backwoodsman magazine, watched videos from Ron Hood, and found out there were other people with amazing skills and ideas that I could learn from.

I’ve seen a lot of discussion around The Internets of what is really bushcraft and what isn’t.

People can always choose to label things the way they want and use this construct to create boundaries around how they structure their time and events.

I just want to play in the woods.