Sleeping in a debris hut, in December

I recently spent a cold winter night outdoors, sleeping in a debris hut. Why would I do such a thing you might ask? The simple answer is because I can, and in so doing I learn about my world and myself. You might also wonder what a debris hut actually is.

World renowned naturalist and tracker Tom Brown Tom Brown, developed the concept of the debris hut. Well actually, he had nothing to do with it, it was the squirrels idea. You see Tom and his friend spent a few cold nights shivering in the forest before “Grandfather” suggested they go ask the squirrels. Soon Tom learned the secrets to their homes and consequentially spent many warm nights with only that which nature provided. All this is another story… check it out in Tom Brown’s Field Guide to Wilderness Survival, or several of his other books also share the story.

The simple concept is to build a frame just large enough to lie down in, then heap on debris from the forest floor until you have a thick mound of leaves and such. The principle is the same as down, the thick layers trap air, which once your body heat warms up, acts as insulation and keeps you warm. (If you’ve ever seen a squirrels nest up in a tree, you know the big ball of leaves…. Well, there you go!)

If you pile on enough debris, and then fill the inside of your hut, smash that down, and repeat several times so there is a thick layer of insulation under you, followed by any creative way to have a door to keep in the heat, then it is said a human will stay warm in very cold temperatures, even if it is wet. I however am part reptile, and therefore a bit sluggish in the cold, so I opted to keep a sleeping bag in my hat for added warmth. Plus, with 12 debris huts in the area, the debris was having to be gathered in mass quantity.


Here’s what I learned:

• Keep the peak of your roof trim, without long sticks rising above it. They trap the debris on top, and leave a shallow spot underneath.
• If I was to stay in one without a sleeping bag in cold weather, then the advice of having the debris in a thick enough mound that I could stick my arm in, up to my shoulder and not touch the structural sticks….. well, that would be a must. Otherwise it just isn’t enough insulation.
• However, it rained freezing rain, and I stayed quite dry! The key I’m told is a rounded mound to shed the water.
• A lightweight tarp is a key element to take along in the woods. It is much easier to pile on leaves and drag it to your hut, then carry it all by the armful. Additionally, it is the quickest, easiest door. (Unless you’re going all natural.)
• Find a good spot with plenty of the right size sticks, and plenty of leaf litter.
• Start early! Building a debris hut not only takes quite a bit of time, it consumes quite a bit of energy. I would not want to be starting late in the day on this in a survival situation.
• Sleeping close to the earth feels good
• If there will be more than 1 hut, build them very close together, it saves time filling the in between with debris.

Sleeping in a debris hut will bring you closer to mother earth and all her life. It will teach you something about you own back yard, which in today’s world is becoming more and more foreign.

Grandfather Oak

The trees are our teachers. Consider just a few of their lessons;

• The flexible bend in the storms and rarely break.
• To reach for the stars, requires nourishment from the earth.
• The environment can affect life, and life can affect environment.

I have woods in back of my house and there is a tree up on a hill that has fallen. I had seen it before put paid little attention. Recently I went to rediscover this tree and was amazed at it’s size, once I really began to see it. This incredible Oak tree may very well be the largest tree I have ever seen. Even lying on its side doesn't detract from its majesty.

I wonder how old it is, and what had caused it finally topple after all these years. I wondered how long ago it had fallen, and how long would it take to be fully recycled back into the earth. I was intrigued by the fact that there were precious few roots on the bottom, and it even seemed to lack the typical “hole and ball” effect I have seen with other downed trees. Yet in its upright days it must have dominated this area. Truthfully, in its horizontal days, it’s still dominating the area.  I wondered at the birds and animals that had sat in its branches, and I wonder at the birds and animals that still use it’s branches.  It isn't dead and gone, its still very much alive.  It exists in a different form perhaps, but the spirit of this tree and tree itself will live here in this spot long after any obvious signs of its presence now are gone.

You see my neighbor views it as a resource to eventually be cut up and used. True that is a value in downed trees that I can appreciate.  But this grandfather is a treasure, best left to take its natural course without human intervention. He has observed more than we can ever dream, and deserves to reciprocate those lessons back to the earth.

The trees are our teachers. Perhaps their greatest lesson lies in simply observing all and grasping at nothing, realizing the only inevitable is change, and simply to be where you are, right now, is enough.

The albino deer

I was out enjoying nature late in the day, taking photographs with my camera. I was in a meadow of tall grass about 10 yards away from the forest. The grass was 3 feet tall or so, and I had just snapped a few pictures, accidentally leaving the camera on. I was simply walking through the tall grass.


I heard a clicking noise down by the camera hanging off my shoulder, and recognized it as the sound of the lens cap falling off. I’m in 3 feet of grass and realized that finding the cap in such circumstances might prove difficult. As I bent over and began to part the tall grass to search, I was thinking what an annoyance it will be to have to order a new cap.


With my head bent low in the grass searching for the camera lens cap, I felt eyes upon me. Without standing full and tall, I simply raised my head slightly in the direction I felt I was being watched…


SIDE BAR: The place I was walking happened to be located at a Summer Camp I worked at in central Virginia. I had been there for several years and had heard rumors surrounding the myth of the albino deer living in the forests. There had been fleeting glimpses at dusk on rare occasion of a white shadowy creature bounding out of view in the distance… but no one has ever concretely confirmed the existence of such a creature.

Now back to our story….

With my head bent low in the grass searching for the camera lens cap, I felt eyes upon me. Without standing full and tall, I simply raised my head slightly in the direction I felt I was being watched. As I raised my head I also raised my camera, which as fate would have it happened to be on, and currently sans a lens cap. There at the edge of the forest 10 yards from me stood a fascinatingly beautiful albino deer, almost shining against the dark backdrop of the forest’s depths. As soon as the shutter clicked, she nodded her head, turned, and disappeared in one leap back into the darkness of the forest.

She had allowed me not only to greet her, but take her picture.  Heartfelt gratitude for such a magical moment!  That was about 10 years ago. I hadn’t thought much about it until recently. Thanks to some folks from Coyote Trails, I am being encouraged to develop a deeper rapport with nature, and the albino deer photograph now belongs to a friend who has been apart of that.

My new Web Site, WaterBetweenStones and The White Deer fund are also now a part of the story.  She has not only encouraged me to use my camera to get closer to nature, but help others do so as well.