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You're built to win it. Welcome to snoozecast. The podcast is on to help you fall asleep. Find us at snoozecast.com and if you enjoy our show, please share it with a friend. This episode is brought to you by a leisurely aesthetic. Tonight, we'll read another excerpt from Woodcraft, published by George Washington Sears under the pen name, Nesmuck. Sears was a writer and adventurer who penned essays on hunting, fishing, and camping for popular journals and magazines. The author was born in Massachusetts in 1821 as the oldest of ten children. A young Naragansan Indian named Nesmuk would drake, befriended him, and taught him hunting, fishing, and. Later Sears took that as his pen name and also as the name of a couple of his canoes. This episode refers a few times to an old woodsman who enjoys smoking Navy plug. The name for this strong dark tobacco was given because sailors would fill a long canvas tube with tobacco or tightly wrap rope around tobacco. And sometimes add flavorings like rum, fruits and spices. Then the tube was twisted tight, mimicking the pressing process. This technique created a dense roll or plug of tobacco about an inch thick which could be cut into smaller pieces or coins. Let's get cozy. Close your eyes. Relax your body into the softness of your bed. Now, take a few. Deep. Breath. The way in which an average party of summer outers will contrive to manage, or mismanage, the camp and camp fire so as to get the greatest amount of smoke and discontent at the least outlay of time and force is sometimes past all understanding and somewhat aggravating to an old woodsman who knows some better. But it is just as good fun as the cynical old woodsman can ask to see a party of three or four enthusiastic youngsters organize the camp on the first day in and proceed to cook the first meal. Of course, every man is boss and everyone is bound to build the fire, which everyone proceeds to do. There are no backlogs, no forsticks, and no arrangement for level-to-solid bases,

on which to place frying pans, coffee pots, etc. But there is a sufficiency of knots, dry sticks, bark, and chunks, with some kindling at the bottom, and a heavy volume of smoke working its way through the awkward looking pile. It is not easy to spoil potatoes by cooking them in plenty of boiling water, and as there is plenty of bread with fresh butter, not to mention canned goods, the hungry party feeds sufficiently, but not satisfactorily. Everything seems pervaded with smoke. The meat is scorched bitter, and the tea is of the sort described by Charles Dudley Warner in his humorous description of camping out. The sort of tea that takes hold lifts the hair and disposes the drinker to hilariousness. There is no deception about it. It tastes of tanin' and spruce and creacet. Of the cooking, he says. Everything has been cooked in a tin pail and a skillet. Potatoes, tea, pork, mutton, slap jacks. You wonder how everything would have been prepared in so few utensils.

When you eat, the wonder ceases.

Everything might have been cooked in one pale.

It is a noble meal.

The slap-jacks are a solid job before it.

Made to last, and not go to pieces in a person's stomach like a trivial bun.