WILDERNESS SURVIVAL SKILLS PROPHECY RSS Feed
TO PRESERVE ONE'S OWN LIFE AS THE WORLD FALLS INTO DARKNESS, IS TO JEOPARDIZE ALL THAT MATTERS, INCLUDING YOUR SOUL
Hoka Hey,
I can't help but wonder--even onto now,
are we but earthly born bodies grasping to find spiritual meaning,
or rebellious heavenly spirits allowed the lusts of this flesh for if we pass or fail?
YOU'VE BEEN BRAINWASHED YOUR ENTIRE LIFE TO BE NOTHING BUT DUMBED DOWN PAWNS TO YOUR MASTERS, YO-I MEAN YOU YUPPIE

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~ ~ ~ POSTS ~ ~ ~

Do You Like The Cult You're In?
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 07 / 13 / 09 ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Prologue To Apocalypse, or to finally know the reason
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 10 / 02 / 07 ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Building A Homemade Wind Generator or Solar Panel
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 07 / 15 / 09 ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
IN THE BEGINNING -- and the end arrow notes from the borderlands arrow Prologue To Apocalypse, or to finally know the reason
Friday, 03 September 2010
Prologue To Apocalypse, or to finally know the reason
Written by W.J. Lynus O'Brien   
Tuesday, 02 October 2007
The camp pictured above is one of the only two places I ever truly considered home. But as all things go when you travel the Circle, so it was with that haven. I spent 6 winters, and one full year back a couple decades ago trapping and hunting from that place--

I damn sure never registered it with the State when they cooked up their little totalitarian cabin registration scheme in the late 80's, and last I heard both the cache and cabin were still standing, so I hope some young renegade stumbles across it (not likely, it's 150 roadless miles from town) (there's still a line up the valley with over 100 #1 victors hanging from the poles, they're your's). It was a damn skookum place, hidden and as hard to find as an honest politician, with marten, lynx and fox, fat black bear aplenty ('cause of the berries), along with a few moose and griz, grayling in the river and blackfish (for your dogs) in the lake. What more does one need to live like a King? Its got a bear-proof door and high tin-lined cache, so probably everything is still there as I left it (although, the stoves are gone by the way).

Lynus O'Brien in front of his cabin at Plentywood trapline--New Years Eve, early 80'sBut like I said all things pass, as did that camp, and the even better ones after and the hard camps before. Hell I could have cached, put-in and stayed forever at any one of at least a dozen camps I'd had through the years--my long scattered journey twisting all the way from New Mexico clear to the Arctic. Damn I'd still be off their books, a boom baby phantom fully disappeared into the landscape, like a few compatriots I've known through the decades--

I still could be safe and secure with my wind generators and solar panels, canoes, dogs and horses, my gardens, a snug cabin and a valley of my own, the cyclic gathering of wild mushrooms, berries and cord upon cord of firewood, moose, caribou and bear, fish, grouse, ducks and rabbits, skins and furs for clothes. A communion only the wild can oblige. But the Wheel has a funny way of putting you where you are suppose to be, not necessarily where you planned on being.

At this point I reckon I  only lived that life so as to tell others of what I learned when it would really be needed--my karma was kinda' fucked up long ago, but I guess if you trust in God it's all ok in the end regardless, so I'd rather try to redeem my soul, than strive to preserve my life, so fuck it, I already had one hell of a good run. But that don't mean all you city slickers without a clue can't blow up your TV's and head to the country--hopefully this will help.

So that's why you are even reading these words and if you don't know it yet pilgrim, the Ghost Dance has begun--
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