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Monthly Archives: July 2013

Wilderness ‘survival’ skills for young children

For families who spend a lot of time in the outdoors, having a child wander off and get lost is pretty unlikely. At the same time, it’s also a very real possibility. I often wonder if/how my child would survive a night in the wilderness. Or 2 nights, or even a few hours. So I’ve been thinking about what skills would be appropriate to start learning for the average 6-11 year old, before they are of age for hardcore Boy Scout techniques.

Every outdoor child should be equipped with a few basic outdoor skills, (mostly to combat an inevitable freak out) along with a little ‘survival kit’ to keep in their backpack.

If your kids are older you can make them this more extensive survival kit. But for young kids you really can only pack what they know how and are developmentally able to use. A survival kit is something that can be built upon over time. As they get older you can add more and more items (like fire starting supplies) and teach them how to use them.

My oldest is 6, so we’re starting out with the following as a bare minimum:

Extra food
Water
Knife
Flashlight and batteries
Water purification tablets
Small signaling mirror
Whistle
Toilet Paper
Bandaids

Assuming they have these few basic tools, below are some good beginner skills to go over. The S.T.O.P. acronym (Stop. Think. Observe. Plan.) is a great place to start, and is a helpful tool for kids when it comes time to remembering what they should do.

STOP (Stay where you are)

The second your child realizes he/she is lost they should stop immediately and wait. Attach a whistle to your kids backpack, as soon as they realize they have become separated from the group tell them to start blowing that whistle like crazy.

THINK (Don’t freak out)

This is perhaps the hardest and most important wilderness survival skill to develop, especially if you’re a kid. A child however will be less likely to freak out if he/she knows what to do.

Talk to your child about how easy it will be to have a meltdown when they realize they’re lost. Then make sure they understand how important it is to stay calm, or become calm. It’s hard to think and plan unless you’re able to be rational. Try to recall everything your parents have taught you and go from there.

OBSERVE 

Look through your backpack. What do you have with you that can be of use. Whistle? Use it often. Food? Save it until you’re really hungry. Water? Save it until you’re really thirsty. Rope? That could be used for making a shelter. Knife? That might come in handy.

Also observe your surroundings. Does the place look at all familiar? Is there a good place for a shelter? Water nearby? A place where you can safely get up for a better view?

PLAN

Now what? Take time to think about what you need to do first. Ok, You’ve blown your whistle for the last 20 minutes. Now what. It’s getting late, maybe you should think about a shelter…

DRINK WATER

Water is the most important survival item you can have, it’s also a hard one for little kids, which is why I always stock my kid’s packs with plenty of water and tell them to ration it if they become lost. Your body can still function with little or no food for weeks, but it can only last a few days without water.

The problem is, unless you find yourself lost next to a water source you shouldn’t exactly wander off looking for water and get even more lost. However, if it has been a day or two and you’re still lost and out of water, it’s going to be worth it to wander off and try to find some.

The easiest thing for little kids to use and carry is water purification tablets. Make sure they have some in their pack and know how to use them. Also make sure the know when to start venturing out to find water.

FIND SHELTER

Next to having enough water, finding a shelter to protect you from the elements (either cold or hot weather) should be top priority. Take advantage of your surroundings. Rock overhangs would be ideal, but if you don’t have that, find some limbs, leaves and/or pine boughs to make a shelter. A lean-to is probably the easiest for kids. If your child is old enough to make one, it might be fun to practice out on the trail, or in your backyard. If they are still young encourage them to find a rock or a tree that they can sit next too to keep them out out of the sun/rain.

PREPARE A SIGNAL

If you’re lost in the wild surviving is, of course, your first priority. Your second should be getting yourself out of there! There are several safe and easy ways your child can make a signal.

  1. Use a mirror (If you have one) or some other shiny or metallic object.
  2. Create a signal with rocks (that contrast with the ground color). Spell out “HELP” or “SOS”, or even a big smiley face our of rocks will get noticed!  Make sure your child knows to make the letters big.
  3. If you hear a plane or helicopter get into an opening and run around and yell like a crazy person.

KNOW BASIC ANIMAL SELF DEFENSE

I would image that the #1 concern for a lost child is the prospect of being eaten by a wild animal. Or maybe that’s just my kids. While unlikely, I think your child would be a little more at ease if they knew what to do when they encountered a wild animal.

I wrote a post a while back called what to know when encountering wild animals. Take a look, pick out the animals that live in your area and go over basic information with your kids. The point is not to make them even more freaked out, just to give them some confidence in their skills should they spend a night in the woods alone. Also good skills to have even if you’re not lost.

Good Things Come to Kids Who Wait

It was cool among the Tamarisk, and they misted on me lightly.  I sat, hugging me legs to my chest, chin resting on my knees.  I resisted the urge to swish away the bugs exploring my ears and eyebrows.  My mind wondered to other places.  Lunch.  School the next day.  I ignored the sweat collecting in the crooks of my knees, and the way it tickled the backs of my calves.  Why was I here again?


I am not a patient person.  I am a now person.  The first thing I look at when contemplating a new recipe is how long it takes to make.  I want to know how the story ends by the last page of the second chapter.  I can’t diet worth beans because I want the weight gone by the end of the first day.

I blame society.

In a world of immediate gratification and one-click buying options, where television images change on a screen an average of every three seconds, and where short bursts of information, facebook statuses, and tweets are the norm, I am required to multi-task constantly.  In an effort to succeed in this world, I have developed the skills needed to thrive in the face of so much information, sacrificing any chance at a quiet moment.  I grew up at the cusp of this great change in our social structure.  My children, on the other hand, will be born into it.  They will have few opportunities to learn the important skill of waiting, of delaying gratification, of thinking ahead, and of focusing for more than a minute.  The implications of an entire society of young ones growing up constantly distracted are incredible, and affecting everything from the development of a young child’s brain, to how society functions in the future .

I am terrible at holding still—with one exception.  When I was a teenager my dad taught me how rewarding it can be to sit in one spot and wait for the natural world to forget you’re there.

I remember the lesson well.  We were taking a walk.  He was an avid birder and was looking for spring migrants making their way north after the cold winter.  We wandered along the edge of a lake, he stopping every few feet to eye some new movement among the Tamarisk that lined the beaches, me kicking at rocks and thinking about being somewhere else.  I don’t remember my attitude, but knowing me I was bored, easily distracted, and likely hinted repeatedly at how far from the car we had come.

“Did you see that one?” he exclaimed while holding his binoculars to his eyes.  “Western Tanager I think.  What do you think?”  he looked over at me to find that I didn’t even have my binoculars to my eyes.  “What’s wrong with you?” he asked.

I mumbled some lame excuse about there not being that much to see in a bunch of boring old Tamarisk trees.  He stared at me in incredulity for a long moment, then instructed me to follow him, and walked me to the Tamarisk grove.

“Here.  Sit down in the middle.  I’m leaving for 15 minutes.  I want you to sit here.  Don’t move.  We’ll talk about what you see when I get back.”

Slightly peeved, but mostly curious at the strange request, I sat.  In retrospect, he may have left me there in order to have 15 uninterrupted moments of bird watching—not because he expected me to learn any important outdoor skill.

But the lesson stuck; those fifteen minutes were unforgettable.  Twenty years later I still find myself looking for opportunities to hold still somewhere and see who forgets me.  Last week at the botanical gardens it was a lizard, who found my shoes were an excellent place to grab a quick lunch of bug debris.  The hummingbirds were perched above my head, and bees worked the flowers around me, oblivious to my presence.

Game: Holding Still

When played as a game, this skill isn’t too hard to learn, and it is one that you can play with your child, or (as my father did) that you can suggest they try on their own.  Advise for first timers:

  • Pick a good spot where activity is likely to happen soon (near the bird feeder in the backyard is a good spot).
  • Get comfortable so that half way through their/your legs won’t be asleep.
  • Focus on listening for the animals that will come in from all directions.  (If you turn too quickly to look, you’ll lose your chance; better to listen first.)
  • If your child finds holding still for that long too difficult at first, you can throw a blanket over them so that just their face shows.  This will allow them to twiddle their thumbs, scratch the inevitable itch, and move ever so slightly without nearby critters noticing.

Learning to hold still is the stepping stone to many wonderful natural moments.  Both hummingbirds and chickadees will land on outstretched hands that haven’t moved for some time (with hummingbirds, place your finger near a hummingbird feeder, like a perch, and wait, or do like this lady did; with chickadees, stand near your birdfeeder with seed in your outstretched hand—here is an excellent instructional on handfeeding.  Nature photography, for beginners and experts (here’s a fun example!) alike, begins with finding a good spot, and waiting as long as it takes  (if you’re into wildlife photography, here are some good tips.

The skill is an important one, especially for children.  It teaches the value of patience, the rewards that come with waiting, how to focus for long periods of time, and the important skill of observing.  It reminds them that the world doesn’t always move as fast as television would make it seem.  And it gives them something to brag about later (“I was five feet from a squirrel and he didn’t even know I was there!”).  The squirrels in my back yard move at the same speed that they did when my grandfather was a child—nature is immune to the social revolution in which your children find themselves, and provides a natural context for learning skills that apply to every generation.

________________________________________________________________________________________

Three Lazuli Buntings, the color of jewels and rainbows, flew into the grove and proceeded to squabble, completely unaware of my presence.  A Western Tanager flew to a perch somewhere over my head and serenaded the world.  I contemplated turning to get a better look when I heard a noise beside me.  Slowly, ever so slowly, I moved my head.  There, sharing the shade of the Tamarisk grove with me, was a jack rabbit.  Not five feet from my hunched self, he stretched his back legs out behind him, pressed his belly into the cool dirt, laid his long ears flat across his back, and closed his eyes.  I could see the hair on his rump was ruffled, I could see the nick in his ear, and I could see how very big his nose was.  Why was I here again?  For this moment.

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    I'm Lindsey. I'm an environmental educator, my husband's a biologist. The outdoors is infused into everything we do; which explains why I'm better at mud pies than home decorating. More About Me

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