Linen, fustian, wool, braintan and felt. Nary a lick of scentlock Gore-tex or neoprene whatsis. I'd feel right at home in that camp.
Copper kettles and tin cups, horn spoons and the back of a knife. Dinner seasoned with a bit of salt and woodsmoke. My appetite would feel right at home, too.
Hard ground, a rock in my lumbar region, another under my hip, and a slight drip from my canvas diamond fly tent leaking down the back of my neck. Yup, it's a homey kinda place.
Linen patch, last year's deer fat for lube, roundball with the sprue sticking up, and a new rock in the lock. Perty Girl's stock is fixed and the lock is tuned, she's ready for camp too.
