Swedish torch log

Ever tried to start a fire on wet ground? There aren’t enough curses in the dictionary. A Swedish torch log is the answer, providing all the fuel for the burn and a surface for resting your kettle on, while keeping the fire raised off the ground

A Swedish torch log burns for two to four hours

Based on a centuries old idea, the Swedish torch log is becoming increasingly popular among bushcraft and outdoor enthusiasts as a low-impact alternative to gas stoves and an antidote to the frustrations of trying to start a campfire on wet ground.  

There is some conjecture over their origin but Swedish torches may have been used by soldiers of northern European states, fighting in the Thirty Years' War (1618-1648). The name is likely to have derived from the German words Schwedenfeuer or Schwedenfackel, which translate as Swedish Fire or Torch.

The great advantages of the Swedish torch log over a conventional campfire, are that the log provides all the fuel for combustion and for the duration of the burn – typically around 2-4 hours, depending on its size. The fire burns from the top, downwards (hence their other name 'log candle') and is always raised off the ground, which is very handy in cold, wet weather. The torch can also be used as a cooking stove, since its flat top provides a stable surface on which to rest a pan or kettle, exactly above where the flames and heat are most concentrated.

To make one, you'll need a well-seasoned log around 8 inches or more in length. Pine, larch or birch are ideal. Using a chainsaw, cut two or three slots across the diameter, down to 3/4 of the log's length. If you don't have a chainsaw you can use an axe to quarter the log then reassemble it using wooden spacers to keep the slots open. I like to attach a string handle to the log so I can carry it around easily (before it's lit, obviously!). Insert kindling into the slots and on top of the log, then light it. The gaps will allow air into the heart of the fledgling fire, which eventually becomes self sustaining as the log begins to burn from the core outwards.

Words and photo provided by Lewis Goldwater, a Herefordshire-based green woodworker. turnham-green-wood.co.uk

Originally featured in issue 4 of Ernest Journal, on sale now.

Issue 4

Sale Price:£5.00 Original Price:£10.00

Add To Cart

Coastal Landforms

If you get a buzz every time you answer a question correctly on University Challenge in front of your family, imagine how smug you’ll feel when you can identify coastal landforms next time you’re all out for a stroll by the sea. Learn these and prepare to feel a smugness never felt in the realm of smug before...

 

Isthmus

Narrow stretch of land connecting two larger landmasses, bordered by water on both sides.They’re of strategic importance as they allow migration from one landmass to another and are natural sites for ports and canals.

 

 

 

Tombolo

A type of isthmus that forms when tides and waves create a narrow strip of land, usually of sand or shingle, between a coastal island and the mainland.The island connected to the mainland is known as a ‘tied island’.

 

 

 

 

Spit

A stretch of beach extending out to sea, joined to the mainland at one end. Spits are the result of longshore drift in areas where the waves meet the beach at an oblique angle, leading to marine deposition.

 

 

 

 

Archipelago

A cluster of islands in a body of water, usually the sea. Most of our archipelagos were formed when volcanoes erupted from the ocean floor, though there are other processes that create them.

 

 

 

 

Skerry

Small rocky islands, usually too small for habitation, found off a rocky coast. Generally intertidal but sometimes they extend above high tide.Also known as a ‘low sea stack’ they are found in Scandinavia and Scotland. 

 

 

 

 

Words by contributing editor Duncan Haskell

Illustrations by Ruth Allen; blueeggsandtea.com

Wild cocktail foraging with reyka vodka

Guy Lochhead ventures into the Lothians with Fergus the Forager and Reyka Vodka to gather meadowsweet, pine needles and seaweed for a wild twist on vodka cocktails.

Foraged seaweed pickled in cider vinegar, lemon juice and spices

“Edinburgh has it all,” explains our guide, Fergus the Forager. "From sea-sprayed hardy coastal plants to the lowland grassland of Holyrood Park via the shady nooks of the dark Georgian terraces of Newtown, you can make a cocktail just from ingredients sourced on Arthur’s Seat," he says, "but we were going to sample from further afield, too."

As we drive down Queen Street, he hands round bunches of urban weeds we can pick in the alleys we pass through, such as feverfew, a daisy-like flower with the power to knock out coffee withdrawal symptoms; yarrow, full of tannins to stem bleeding; pineapple weed, with aromatic buds of chamomile and apple; versatile burdock, used as coffee in Japan. We take bites out of the bouquets handed to us and I can feel a thrill of excited connectedness among my fellow urbanites – most of them bartenders, usually asleep this early in the morning. I look out of the window and the weeds shine like green jewels.

Our first stop is Longniddry Bents, a long grey beach peppered with tank traps. The tide is out. As we walk to the sea, Fergus points out all the resources available to us here. Sprawling seabuckthorn covers the roadside. The berries are dense with nutrients, the leaves full of protein. This was Pegasus’ favourite food, and is still used as feed for animals. We collect a few leaves and berries in our baskets and move on to admire some hogweed. The mature seeds make a great spice, commonly used in Iran. Fergus digs around in his rucksack and pulls out some syrups he's made from the stem and seeds - a burnt caramel and orange flavour, but somehow not either. Foraging offers flavours we don’t have names for.

An easy way to identify hogweed is by its unpleasant smell, which Fergus likened to a urinal

Our passage to the sea takes us past willowherb (...subtle…), sea sandwort (cucumber-like succulents), mayweed (sea-scented and delicate), until we arrive at the seaweed. This is what we've come for. Fergus explains how overlooked our marine bounty is – although Britain’s coastline is the same length as Japan’s, we don’t have nearly as much of a culture around our seaweed. It can be deep-fried, pickled and dehydrated, and is full of nutrients, which it draws from the seawater. Unfortunately, this same mechanism means it’s very good at concentrating pollutants, so you should check the cleanliness of the beach you are taking from.

Beginning at the tidemark, we sample different species as we move towards the water. First, spiral wrack, like ghosts of grapes draped over the rocks at high tide. It breaks down in the sun, so use the moister under-layers. Knotted wrack looks like discarded green lawyers’ wigs. It has a 12 year lifespan and is the favourite food of limpets. Channelled wrack, folded into little grooves, with smart highlights at the ends of its fronds. These are all green seaweeds. Bladderwrack is a brown macro-algae with an amazing reproductive cycle involving “bladders” full of gametes.

Fergus gleefully produces a tupperware full of deep-fried sex organs for us to try. Some decline. He also has sugar kelp, which he’s prepared as sweet shards of natural stained glass, a beautiful deep green when held up to the light. Our final species to gather is rhisocloamine – a dense, felty sponge of lighter green. Powdered and melted into butter, it’s delicious with seafood. We wash our harvest in seawater and return to the coach.

Light snack, anyone? Sugar kelp can grow up to five meters long

As we head to our next site, Fergus tells me how he’d found preparing for this trip more challenging than normal. Away from his home of Canterbury, he didn’t know what plants to expect to find or what state they would be in. He describes how he' only recently learned to switch off from seeing nature as a pool of resources and just enjoy walking for walking’s sake, but it requires real effort. He talks about sustainability and how short-sighted it is to consider foraging middle-class. He says he got bored of foraging for restaurants because chefs only wanted wood sorrel and tended to just use wild foods as exotic garnishes. He's recently got into lacto-fermentation and historical recipes.

We arrive at Roslin Glen, a gnarled wooded gorge spilling down from a ruined castle and its historic chapel. Fergus leads us down the slope, skidding through the pines. We pause for a moment to admire these versatile trees. We can use their needles as a tea, in syrup, or to smoke things with; pollen from their catkins is apparently androgenic; and we can use their resin to produce retsina from bad white wine. There are Douglas Firs around us too, which have smaller, more aromatic needles. The blisters on their bark contains delicious sap. We eat supermarket sandwiches and pass around a pine pollen tincture before continuing down.

In the gorge, we're treated to herb bennett roots, beech leaf noyaux, medicinal meadowsweet, candelabras of sweet cicily, golden wild raspberries, birch sap, daisy petals, japanese rosehips, and white clover heads. The bartenders scatter among the undergrowth, harvesting cocktail ingredients for later. We gather again to smoke some mugwort – “sailor’s tobacco” - before climbing back up to the coach.

Who's for a puff of mugwort?

Our final stop is a yurt containing a full cocktail bar and a staggering range of syrups that Fergus has made - japanese knotweed, willow leaf, hawthorn blossom and green fig. The bartenders make elaborate drinks with these and their own found ingredients while Fergus prepares a meal for us all. He asks me to cut radishes to look like fly agarics for the salad and tells me about eating badger (90% tasty, 10% soil and worms). We drink some of the wild cocktails and heat a pan for the seaweed. He tells everyone to stand back before casting them into the oil, which erupts into a column of flames. Fished out and dried on kitchen paper, they taste like perfectly seasoned crispy cabbage, but with more depth of flavour. We try each species in turn, acknowledging their subtle differences.

While Fergus prepares sea bass and bhajis, I ask him if he has a garden at home. He’s started growing squashes, including some from 800 year-old seeds - gete-okosomin, which translates as “really cool old squash”. He has a greenhouse and the plants grow monstrously around a bench in one corner. Everyone agrees that the fish is delicious. Fergus seems pleased. He warms himself by the fire and tells me what swan tastes like.

Back in the centre of Edinburgh, I notice pineapple weed growing on some scrubland by the pavement. I pick a couple of buds and chew them on my way home, looking at my feet and the fertile cracks between the paving slabs. I'm in the city but now I can leave at any time.

Northern Hemisphere

Get your foraging basket out and give this zingy vodka cocktail a whirl this Christmas...

40 ml Reyka
20 ml willow leaf tea syrup
15 ml green fig syrup
20 ml lemon juice
7 ml Benedictine
Orange zest garnish

Reyka is a vodka hand-crafted in Iceland, using Arctic spring water filtered through a 4,000 year old lava field. 40%ABV.

 

Words by contributing editor Guy Lochhead

#JourneyOn with Millican

Travel can help us find new perspectives and encourage us to connect with ourselves and our surrounding environment. That is why our friends at Millican have launched their #JourneyOn campaign - encouraging others to share that one special photo that encapsulates the joy of journeys

Millican's #JourneyOn competition celebrates memorable journeys from our past, which inspire our future travels.

For your chance to win a Fraser the Rucksack (worth £125), simply share a single image from your most meaningful journey to date, tell us where it was and what travel plans it has inspired for your 2016 or beyond.

To enter the #JourneyOn competition follow these simple steps:

• Upload your chosen image to your own Instagram OR to the Millican Facebook page (you will have to add them on Facebook in order to post to their wall).
• In the image description explain in a few lines where your photo was taken and where it has inspired you to travel to in the future.
• Make sure to tag #JourneyOn and @homeofmillican in the image description so they can register your entry. (If you enter via Instagram you will have to add them in order to tag them correctly).

The competition will close on the 1st February 2016 – Millican will pick their favourite entry on 5 February 2016 and announce the winner across Facebook, Instagram and Twitter.

Here are some examples of #JourneyOn entries from the Millican and Ernest team:

Millican co-founder Jorrit’s #JourneyOn story: I was fortunate enough to visit the land of the Rising Sun last year – Japan. I learnt to leave the map behind and to just wander, which delivers a completely different experience. I’ve set my sights on discovering some of Vietnam’s heartbeat this coming year, making the most of however many hours or days I can fit in around the next Millican journey – micro adventures at their best. #JourneyOn @homeofmillican
 

Millican co-founder Nicky’s #JourneyOn story: South America, 1993. I learnt to follow the road less travelled, travel with less and to be open to opportunities. I still compare prices of everyday objects with the cost of a trip – and I still have Patagonia and Costa Rica on my bucket list too. #JourneyOn @homeofmillican
 

Millican creative director Jeffrey’s #JourneyOn story: Hemsedal, Norway, 2015. Traveling through Norway was like tuning into a frequency that I'd never felt before - it has become my continual quest to stay tuned into that feeling: Japan, Alaska, Iceland, wherever the waves resonate. #JourneyOn @homeofmillican

Ernest editor Jo's #JourneyOn story: Last year, I went to British Columbia to research our 24-page guide to Vancouver Island and the Gulf Islands (coming up in issue five). We hiked to Radar Beach near Tofino, following a ragged path through rainforest to a deserted beach, using tree roots and ropes to climb back up. The trip marked an important shift - after 18 months of working tirelessly to set up the magazine, commissioning adventurous features from my desk, I finally allowed myself a big trip. It was a reminder of why it’s important to practice what you preach and live your own adventures. #JourneyOn @homeofmillican

Ernest features editor Abi's #JourneyOn story: Last August, I spent a week in Greenland – a strange and distant land I never imagined I'd get ever to visit. It’s hard to sum up my experience in a few sentences, but this photo brings it all back. This was taken on Uunartoq Island on the southern tip of the vast country. That’s me in the corner, bathing in waters at 38C, watching icebergs drift by, backdropped by one the of most stunning mountain ranges I had ever seen. The trip inspired me to explore places I'd never usually consider, and to slow down - to try not to experience too much too fast. #JourneyOn @homeofmillican

The Frontier Man

The highly anticipated and Oscar-nominated movie The Revenant hits UK cinemas today. Mark Blackmore provides a little insight into the man behind the story – Hugh Glass: pirate, trapper, tribesman, mountain man, and one of history’s most obdurate, durable and vengeful men

Illustration: Jes Hunt

Details on Hugh Glass’s early life are sketchy, but the best guess seems to be that he was born in Philadelphia to Irish immigrant parents in 1783. He grew up to be a seaman, which was working out unremarkably enough until he was captured by pirates in 1816. Choosing a life of piracy over a quick walk off a plank, Glass remained with the pirate crew until 1818, when he seized an opportunity to jump overboard and swim two miles to shore.

Though Glass quickly gained a companion and moved north, living off the land, they were both captured by Pawnee Indians. Glass watched as the Pawnee hung his companion upside down, pushed hundreds of pine needles into his skin and set him alight. As he was about to meet the same fate, Glass saved himself by offering the Pawnee some vermilion, a highly-valued scarlet pigment that he happened to have in his pocket. So delighted were the Pawnee with this gift that Glass was spared and adopted into the tribe, taking a Pawnee wife and winning a valuable Hawken rifle in a skirmish with local rivals.

This state of affairs lasted until 1821, when Glass visited St Louis as part of a Pawnee delegation meeting with US authorities. He decided to stay, joined the fledgling Rocky Mountain Fur Company as a trapper, and in 1823 took part in an expedition up the Missouri River, headed by Andrew Henry and under the larger command of General William Ashley.

A grizzly encounter

Things started off badly, before quickly getting worse. First, Ashley’s men got involved in a skirmish with the Sioux and the Arikara, during which one trapper was killed and Glass was shot in the leg. Moving on, Andrew Henry took 14 men, including Glass, further upriver. It was at this point that Glass, while foraging for berries, stepped into a cleared area that he recognised as the nest of a mother grizzly bear. 

The bear was present with her cubs, and immediately charged. Glass managed one shot with his Hawken rifle before she was on him, and he underwent the unenviable experience of witnessing her tossing pieces of his flesh to her cubs, who soon joined the attack.

Brought running by the noise, the other men arrived and shot the bears. Glass was unconscious, his leg broken, his back ripped open to the ribs and the rest of his body a mess of claw and bite wounds. Henry offered money for volunteers to stay with Glass until he died and then dig his grave before catching up with the main party, and two men, Fitzgerald and Bridger, stayed.

Left for dead

However, after a couple of days, Hugh Glass was mulishly refusing to die, and his minders were becoming frantic with fear of being discovered by one of the many roaming Arikara war bands. They decided that since Glass would surely soon give up the ghost, it could do no harm to take his rifle and other equipment, telling the others that Glass had died when they caught up. When Glass awoke some time later, he found himself mutilated, gangrenous, crippled, without weapons or equipment, in the middle of hostile Indian territory and some 200 miles from the nearest place of safety, Fort Kiowa on the Missouri River.

After lying on a rotting log to allow maggots to eat his infected flesh, Glass began to crawl towards the Cheyenne River, living on roots, insects, berries and discarded carcasses, for the next six weeks. There he built a raft, encountered friendly Indians who gave him weapons and sewed a bear hide onto his exposed back, and continued on to Fort Kiowa.

A lengthy recuperation followed, and a determination grew to kill Fitzgerald and Bridger, the men who had deserted him and left him for dead...

To learn more about Glass's extraordinary tale, read the full feature in print issue 3 of Ernest Journal, or you can watch Leonardo DiCaprio's portrayal in The Revenant, out in cinemas today. 

Issue 3

Sale Price:£5.00 Original Price:£10.00

Quantity:

Add to Cart