Vintage Camper?!

There it is, waiting to be washed, fixed, and painted.

What have I done...again?!

This time I really might end up being sorry. Since July last year when we sold our reasonable, clean, perfectly functional popup camper, we've been looking for a vintage old "canned ham" camper to work on and camp in.

Have I lost my mind?

This isn't ours. It's a "Sisters on the Fly" camper.

Why would we do this (you might ask)?

Because life is an adventure.
Because we don't have enough money to buy a new camper.
Because vintage campers are cool and have character.
Because I think we can always sell it for more than the amount for which we bought it.
Because I'm a glutton for punishment.

Another "SOTF" camper.

This whole idea began a couple of years ago when we went on our annual summer camping trip. Dara and I went up a few days before everyone else—Drew was having to work at his college and had to come late, Duncan was on the way home from a mission trip, and Darla was getting Franca (our German exchange student) ready for her trip home.

This "Sisters" camper was stunning. The painter is talented!

Dara and I, never being able to fully scratch the outdoors itch, set up camp and hung out together. It was pretty awesome. What was crazy, however, was that there were dozens of women with a group called Sisters on the Fly. Most of them were breast cancer survivors, many of whom had taken up fly fishing (an activity that reportedly exercises muscles damaged by breast cancer and treatments). We had some wonderful conversations with some really great people.

Yet another "SOTF" example.

Something that was really cool about this group was their campers! Most of them had incredible vintage campers that had been completely restored or remodeled. Dara and I were awed by their campers! When Darla, Duncan, and Drew finally made it to the campground, most of the women had packed up and departed, only a few remaining.

I took many pictures. These are only a few.

There were several old Airstreams there. Always classic!

Now it's our turn. Oh boy.

Ours right after the purchase. Bringing "Daisy" home.

Darla and I have been looking, even stopping at people's homes to ask about campers that sat stranded in their yards (yes, I could tell you some stories).

This week we saw a 1969 Field & Stream camper on Craigslist. I went to check it out and liked it. It didn't leak, wasn't plagued with rust or rot, and the couple that had it had done some work on it but appreciated vintage originality and kept it pretty stock. After negotiating on price, I brought it home. That was Saturday. We cleaned and worked on it until we ran out of daylight. We got cranking after church and the picnic that followed, and again worked on it until dark. I'm not complaining! I like having something to work on! Darla's determined the name: Daisy. She's going to paint the faded gold stripe a gold-yellow. It's also a little bit of an inside joke. I call Darla "Daisy" when she complains about my driving. You know, like in the movie, "Driving Miss Daisy."

We're going to spend Memorial Day fixing, painting, and remodeling this old thing (and then we're going to eat BBQ Pork that's cooking right now).

Life is good.

Driving Miss Daisy home to meet the family. 

One of My Favorite Places...and People!

This weekend was just great. Dara got some backpacking equipment for Christmas, and spring break is when she was determined to try it all out. Well, spring break is here! Amid a questionable (if not threatening) weather forecast, we decided to take a chance and go for it. I am soooo glad we did.

We went to one of our favorite hiking spots—where incidentally Dara hiked when she was just three years old—the Shining Rock Wilderness area in the Blue Ridge Mountains of North Carolina.

So we packed our gear and loaded up the Wagoneer (our "family adventure mobile") and left on Friday. We got to the Blue Ridge Parkway, only to find that it was closed! Uh-oh. Back down the mountain we drove until we found a trailhead that would lead us to Black Balsam Knob and Flower Gap from the eastern base of Little Sam Knob. That means we had to walk several miles further than we had planned! As Dara said, it was totally worth it. The day was unseasonably warm and the hike up the old rail bed and up Flat Laurel Creek was beautiful. It took us between Sam Knob and Little Sam Knob (yes, I too wonder who Sam was). We ate lunch and were drawn to the rocky peak of Sam Knob (elevation 6,045 feet), so we decided to climb it, lightening our load by hiding our packs at the base before ascending.

Wow. Beautiful 360-degree mountain view. Perhaps one of the best I've seen. While gawking at the vista, we noticed the wind increasing and the temperature dropping. We descended, found our packs, and headed toward Black Balsam Knob. The trail was lonely (read: awesome!). We felt as if we owned it all! That's the way the mountains are supposed to be. I think the threatening weather reports had scared away all the spring breakers, and the closed parkway made access even more difficult. All good with me!!

We filled our water bottles and crested Black Balsam Knob as the wind was getting more gusty. We continued on to the northern slope where there is a great little flat grassy spot I found 25 years ago in the midst of a laurel and blueberry thicket. It's a perfect campsite. You can see the sunset, there is a great little fire ring, and the bushes form a wind shelter. I told Dara, this is exactly the same spot where we camped when she was three.

Memory flashback...that trip was also on spring break. Darla and I backpacked with all three kids and hiked up to Black Balsam Knob. Drew was eight and Duncan had just turned seven. It was an inexpensive vacation, and we were poor and adventuresome. Darla gave in to my enthusiasm to do the backpacking trip (she's a hiker, but not a backpacker or a camper). So we packed our big six-man tent from Wal-mart and gave the kids a load. Our greatest concern: little Dara. She had a little pink Dora The Explorer backpack that matched her hand-me-down pink coat, and she wanted to share the load. We filled it with her blanket and some stuffed animals. Would she make it? Were we cruel to try?

That was when I first learned about her trademark toughness and positive spirit. She NEVER complained. She just sang while we walked and had the time of her life! After setting up camp, Darla was stressing. It was unexpectedly cold. Snow was on the ground in places. Duncan and Dara's "Disney princess" sleeping bags weren't up for this. So we doubled them up for Duncan and Dara ended up sleeping with Daddy. I must say, one of the top 5 favorite memories of my life was that night. Dara snuggled next to me SO happy. She told me how much fun she was having and that she loved me. She and I held hands all night. We were warm and slept like two rocks. Unfortunately, Mamma didn't. In addition to the cold and wind, there were coyotes yelping and howling all night long.

Ok, returning to 2016. Our first night was uneventful. We set up the tent (oops! I only had 2 tent stakes!) and ate Jambalaya. After sleeping well, we ate hot oatmeal for breakfast, packed up and hiked over Tennant Mountain, through Ivestor Gap, over what we call "Hippy Mountain" and by "Redneck Tarp City" (our affectionate nickname given to a spot where the rednecks drive their 4x4 trucks and camp in August for blueberry season) and on to Flower Gap. We did make one wrong move when we took a short cut (or so we thought) and ended up on the side of a mountain in some of the thickest brush I've ever been in. We decided to sit under  a grove of fir trees and eat lunch to get out the map and think about how we would get out of the brambles. We finally made it to Flower Gap, set up camp, and went to fill up all our water bottles in the spring (a half of a mile further) and gather firewood. Upon our return, we discovered a Raven that had grabbed our freeze-dried meal, had torn open the bag and helped itself to some of the contents. That didn't stop us from eating what was left.

The evening was crisp, breezy and beautiful, and the fire was welcome. It was a perfect evening if there ever was one. This is why we go to all the trouble to backpack.

I made 8 additional stakes out of wood and found another one, and secured the tent and rainfly well. A boy scout troop we passed earlier in the day had told us rain was expected that night.

Never doubt a scout.

As SOON as we got in the tent, it began to rain. And the rain never stopped. All night long the weather got worse and worse. Monsoon rains and wind battered the tent all night. At 7AM the dripping started as my seams hadn't been sealed in quite a while. Dara's little sleeping pad got soaked, and so did her bag. She said she was warm, so I said that we should try to sleep out the storm (it's miserable to pack while it's raining). But she was going stir crazy. So we got up and packed around 9AM and hoisted our significantly heavier packs to our backs and started the long trip back—in the rain. Finally, the rain slowed then stopped, and the the haze finally cleared revealing Big Sam Knob!

Decisions, decisions. Should [we] stay or should [we] go now? We both decided to go...as in home. Virtually everything was soaked. Not cool (actually...quite cold!). Sleeping would now be a struggle. As we passed between the Sam Knobs, the visibility continued to improve, and by the time we saw the glorious Wagoneer, it was clearing pretty well with some occasional spots of sunshine.

The BIGGEST disappointment of the trip? The whole hike, Dara talked about eating at a restaurant called "Juke Box Junction" on our way home. It's a favorite of ours any time we hike in this area. You know how it goes: we were hungry, cold, and obsessing over what we were going to eat. I was dreaming of that big hamburger, crinkle fries, and a huge chocolate malt. Dara was talking about how their chocolate chip cookie dough milkshake was the best she'd ever had. We got there and were relieved to see cars in the parking lot (meaning, it's actually open on Sunday!). We excitedly went to the door and were met by a waitress who said, "I'm sorry, we're closed." What?!?! It was 42 minutes before the closing time that was on the door! I began to protest. Then it hit me...daylight savings time had begun early that very day. We were actually 18 minutes late. Doggonnit!

Dara was so heartbroken...and blamed me for wanting to sleep that couple of hours longer hoping for a break in the rain!!

Oh well, we ended up finding a pretty good burger joint in Waynesville. Have I said how much I love rednecks? Here's just another reason why: Dejected after missing Juke Box Junction, I told Dara, "If we can find one redneck or fat guy, he'll know where we can find a good burger joint." Within one mile, we spotted our redneck. I wish I could describe this guy, but I shall refrain. Upon hearing my accent, he dropped his guard (my legit country boy slang is handy at times) and told me we needed to turn around and go to Juke Box Junction! That's when he revealed his distinguished burger connoisseur credentials. I explained our predicament (without using words like "predicament") and he told us of another joint adding, "I'll tell ya, they gotta big 'ole burger 'bout 'dis big (making a circle with his hands bigger than the circumference of his head) and stacked way up high like 'is" (separating his hands vertically about a foot apart). Then he gave me complicated, detailed directions there. I asked him the name (I'm not sure he'd heard of Google maps). He said, "Ammons."

We went without hesitation and he was right. I had the "hamburger steak" bacon burger, which was about a half pound patty with all the trimmings. Dara got a burger, tater tots, and hot fudge cake that was to die for.


The sun was out. We walked around downtown Waynesville before heading home.

I love that girl. I'm so thankful to God for all my kids!

Can't Quit Daydreaming...

Benny and I behind the Jeep CJ9 with the real heroes of the
hunt, the dogs!

I used to have a lot of hobbies. Fishing (bass, trout, crappie, catfish, and others—all different), hunting (squirrel, rabbit, turkey, dove, boar, quail, pheasant, grouse, crow, raccoon, chukar, duck, goose, and deer—with bow, muzzleloader, shotgun, and rifle!), hiking & backpacking, golf, canoeing, working on cars, road biking, mountain biking, painting, playing guitar, gardening, horses, dogs (training & breeding), woodworking, four wheeling, working out, reading, caving, traveling, skiing, basketball, football, softball, weight lifting, swimming, running, and more! Whew! What a list!

But as we grow older career and family take precedent, and life's priorities and budgets force us to narrow our list of hobbies. I used to have the equipment for ALL the above pursuits (some is packed away and forgotten in the attic)!

Some, however, are still pastimes that I still enjoy (even if I have less time for them than I once did) and I try to discuss them on this blog. One of my favorite things in the world to do is quail hunt. I don't own a pointer/brittany/springer/setter, and I certainly don't have any hunting land. But every once in a while, God graciously provides for me to do what I have no budget to do and experience a day or so in the field.

The cabin in which we stayed. Belle prancing in the front.

A few weeks ago, my good buddy Benny invited me to come with him and a friend and go quail hunting at a hunting preserve in south Georgia, called Wynfield Plantation.   It. was. awesome.  We had a great time talking on the way down and back, but the hunting experience is hard for me to explain, except except to say that I felt like a rich dude. The place is so nice. And they totally serve you hand and foot. Wow!

They provide the dogs, guide, Jeeps, and food (prepared by a chef) and everything else. All you have to bring is proper clothing and your gun. And that's where I probably should be embarrassed. I have a Remington 1100 that I got for Christmas when I was in 8th grade. But I love it and I proudly walk in the field with it like Happy Gilmore walks on the golf course with his hockey stick (not that I'm as good!). Perhaps it's a little out-of-style, but it does the job. Most of the hunters (at this place, anyway) have fancy over-and-under style Brownings and Benellis.

Truth is, I'm still pinching myself. The trip seemed (and seems) like some kind of dream. We shot a lot of birds. The folks at the plantation cleaned the birds for us, froze them, and gave them to us in little coolers to take home. Amazing.

Here's Benny on the right and the little English Cocker right
behind her master, our guide. An awesome little dog.

My favorite thing about it is watching the dogs hunt. Benny had his old faithful bird dog, Belle. I was privileged to be along for what might have been her last hunt. She did great. One of the coolest dogs I've seen is the English Cocker, a shorter dog that stayed at "heel" with the guide until the pointers were on point on some birds, at which time the guide would send in. The Cocker would flush the cubby (meaning, the hiding group of quail would fly up in the air), and then it would retrieve the dead birds that we shot back to the guide. Remarkable.

Below is a very quick video of me shooting a quail (it took two shots). The dogs really do all the work. I'm just so happy I got to go along.

Good times. Many thanks to Benny for letting me tag along and for the good conversations we had. Now I've got to pinch myself and quit daydreaming about it!

Truck Norris

I gave in to the non-stop pleading from Dara that began long before she turned 16 to have an old truck for her car. I really tried to talk her out of it. I know all-too-well how frustrating it can be to be a kid wanting to go somewhere and your vehicle not start. And having an old truck is great if you're a guy (typically) who uses the bed, regularly tows stuff, and doesn't mind fixing it frequently. Her mother was a harder person to convince than me that this was a good idea! A truck is the LAST thing Darla would drive. But in the end, Dara persisted, playing her cards well, giving us little choice other than to allow it.

Here's the way it works at the Sparks house:

• Driving's a privilege not a right. Therefore it is only granted when the driver is well-trained and other priorities are accomplished. Things like honesty (an important first), respecting authorities, and making wise choices in other areas (grades, phone, chores, showing kindness, etc.) are non-negotiable.

• Financial responsibility is important. That means we ask our kids to buy their car, unless they are involved in athletics or other good activities that prevents them from being able to save to afford a car (in which case, we will help them). All three of ours were able to buy their cars, despite them being involved in other things. Once they have a car, they must have "skin in the game" regarding gas and insurance. Regarding insurance, parents will pay for the lowest rate (including discounts for good grades, etc.) but additional costs due to tickets or accidents or grades are the driver's responsibility.

• Freedom doesn't increase when you get a car, responsibilities do. With driving comes the necessity of MORE communication, more devotion to following the rules, more maturity...not less. Mistakes have higher consequences than before. And when foolish mistakes are made or responsibility isn't shown, keys are taken away.

There are others, of course, but those are the main principles. Drew found and bought himself a Jeep Cherokee that he improved quite a bit over his time in high school. Duncan got a little help from us to first buy a 12-year-old Chevy Malibu, but later was able to buy a 1981 Fiat Spider herself (that she LOVES). Dara (as usual) was adamant that we allow her plenty of training throughout her 15th year, and was on-the-ball regarding the other requirements, including saving money to buy a truck. And she didn't just want any truck. She preferred an old Jeep J10. So when she found one in West Knoxville off Sutherland, we were in pursuit. See the whole story here.

Well, here's the rest of the story. Despite my initial remorse for allowing her to buy it, and thanks to lots of help from a mechanically-inclined friend, Truck Norris (as Dara calls it) is, quite frankly, pretty awesome. We've had to fix stuff like speedometer, carburetor, plugs & wires, most gauges, lights & lenses, paint the hood, replace & paint a fender, new tires, choke, fuel & air filters, battery, starter, alternator, breaks, fuel sending unit, mirrors, and various other wires, vacuum tubes, gaskets, knobs, and parts.

This is before we were finished loading. The
trailer's tires were near bursting, and Truck's
bed couldn't hold another piece of oak. The
picture definitely doesn't do this task justice!

That may sound like a lot—but it has been done a little at a time as needed—and nothing was really expensive. It's now reasonably reliable and safe. To improve the truck's worn interior we replaced the seat and door panel fabric with a colorful western fabric that Dara found online, and replaced the interior carpet. We replaced the old 1980s cassette-deck radio with a new unit and installed new speakers (important!). And we've raised the seats and installed a 4" lift kit (with new springs and shocks). The drivetrain (especially the 4-wheel-drive system) has been bullet-proof (Lord, thank you, and please let it continue to be so!). It still has some issues (transmission fluid leak, still hard to start due to needed carb-adjustment, some electronic mysteries), but it's not bad.

I've also enjoyed having a truck around again. The Wagoneer is great, but it's hard to replace the handiness of a pickup. We put Truck Norris to the test a couple of weeks ago when my dad had two oak trees in his yard in Jefferson City that needed to be cut and removed. We loaded Truck Norris' bed "cab-high" in green (meaning not dried or cured, read: "heavy") red and white oak firewood and loaded up a trailer for Truck Norris to pull back to Knoxville. Test passed.

Today we had our first significant snow since Truck Norris came to the Sparks family. Dara and I went to an abandoned parking lot and let her learn how to drive in the snow. Then we ran errands and went to Dara's friend's house, driving on snow-covered roads the whole way. Again, pass! Truck Norris did very well. The only minor problem was keeping the windows clean. It wasn't bad, but the wipers are weak and sometimes randomly stop for a few seconds, and the defrost barely blows. But Truck is rock solid in the snow. I'm going to take it to elders meeting tonight. Hope I don't wreck it. Dara will kill me!

So, all things considered, Truck Norris was a good buy. All told we've got around $5k in it. Dara still loves it (despite the usual challenges to owning an old vehicle) and I am certain she could get her money out of it and then some. But the problem is I'm kind of attached to it! When Dara is over the truck stage, I'm hoping she'll sell it to me for a reasonable price!

Quick Trip to Ozone Falls

Darla and I are rehearsing for the empty nest. It's kind of great, actually. We had a Saturday today without soccer, track, football, church or kids activities of any kind! Really crazy! So, Darla, the dogs (yep, we're becoming those people), and I took off to see a waterfall we've heard a lot about over the years, but haven't yet seen: the impressive, 110-foot Ozone Falls near Crab Orchard, TN. It was one of Tennessee's first State Natural Areas, and is one of the most famous. It's not an epic hike. In fact, you can see the falls through the trees from the car as you approach the tiny parking area on Hwy. 70. There are two trails, one upper loop that takes you to the top of the falls, and a lower trail that takes you to the bottom of the falls. Both are very short.

The upper trail is almost all on sandstone cap rock (the stone that has made Crab Orchard famous). Pretty cool, really. The appropriately named Fall Creek is small, even after some rain this weekend. All is quite typical until the water suddenly drops off the cliff in to a beautiful deep (today, at least) hole. The cliff is impressive and scary. There are no walls or rails or fence to keep people or dogs from free falling. Actually, this is how I like it. I've hiked in other states where man-made barriers mar the natural beauty. That's a thing I love about Tennessee—I'd like to think we figure people know not to get too close to a 100+ ft. cliff. I know, it's so hard to figure out! I will say, due to the closeness of this waterfall to the road, and the depth of the waterhole into which it falls (at least, today's depth anyway), I would be very surprised if local teenage daredevils don't frequent this spot (I know I would have—we jumped from similar-height cliffs that were much less accessible and much more dangerous). Interestingly, there were no warnings against jumping, swimming, or climbing on or around the falls! Man, I love Tennessee!*

The lower trail is not much of a trail at all. It begins unceremoniously paralleling the road. Then it turns to go down the rocky hillside and all bets are off. There are no trail marks to be seen until you're down at the bottom next to the creek! Basically, you make your own trail. Darla and I stayed pretty near the base of the cliff, which in places is a rock house with water dripping from the brow. I found out later that the caves (rock houses) in this cliff were once known as "gamblers den" for nefarious activities that you can probably figure out. I bet this place is really impressive after a few days of sub-freezing weather. Unfortunately, the temperature has been in the 30s and 40s for the last few days, so almost all signs of ice are gone for now.
We made it down to the bottom. It looks as if one can walk behind the falls to the other side of the beautiful, jade-blue landing pool. But it was pretty cold today and we didn't want to get wet. So we went down to the creek as it tumbles out of the pool. Huge boulders are everywhere. Warning: the rocks around the creek are shifty and SLICK. It is a minor miracle that neither of us took a fall! The best shots of the falls are from a big rock on the downstream side of the landing pool.

The beautiful jade-blue pool is actually very clear water.  This creek seems to be quite clean. be sure to click on the above picture to see it in some better detail. Of course, there's no comparison to seeing the real thing. Apparently part of the Jungle Book movie was filmed here. After taking a few pictures, we headed back up to the parking area. Darla was really cold. It was about 38 degrees, but the wind was blowing.

On the way home we stopped by Kingston to eat at Gloria Jean's Fine Southern Provisions at Ladd Landing. Pretty good eats—not cheap. On to home for NFL Playoffs. God, thank you for the good, lazy day with my best friend. It was a needed break before another busy week.

If you live in the Knoxville area, you MUST make this short trip to Ozone Falls. The quick way is to get off I-40 at Crab Orchard (exit 329), go right for a couple hundred yards and turn right again on Hwy 70. You'll see the signs and the parking area in about a mile on the right. For the scenic route, Go west on Kingston Pike in Knoxville and take the right fork at Dixie-Lee Junction (Hwy 70). Follow Hwy 70 (pay attention to signs) until you get there.  It is much more interesting than taking the interstate, and won't take that much longer.

*For the sake of the foolish and the lawyers who represent them, it is probably wise for me to write the following disclaimer: Please do not ever jump from high cliffs. 

Feeding Birds

I really only have one person for whom to buy Christmas gifts. She basically takes care of the gift-buying for all others (with my occasional input, of course). I have to badger her to find out what she wants for Christmas, because for the first couple of months I begin badgering, she says, "I don't want you to get anything." Yeah, right. Truth is I WANT to get her gifts, and I really want her to be happy–maybe even surprised! This is a great challenge for me. If it were just one main gift, that would be hard enough. But of course I need to get a card, and there's all the little stocking stuff (that's the hardest of all for me)! And I also need to find little fun less expensive gifts.

This Christmas, I did pretty well and I feel really good about myself! In the "little fun less expensive gifts" category, I got a couple of vintage-looking, mason-jar-like bird feeders (and a bag of birdseed) to hang on our hummingbird feeder hooks.

Darla loves watching and feeding the hummingbirds, but they're only around during the warm months. I thought she'd also get a kick out of watching different kinds of birds in the winter. I even got her a Backyard Birding magazine! The gift was a hit! My immediate worry, however, was: will any birds come use the feeders? Turns out, they LOVE it. I am watching them have a feeding frenzy right now as I type. I'm also enjoying learning about what all these little guys are. Here are the ones that have been on the feeders just the last 30 minutes this morning:


• Carolina Chickadee (shown here)

• Red House Finch (shown here)

• Tufted Titmouse (shown above on the deck rail, and below on the feeder)

• Carolina Wren

• Red-bellied Woodpecker

• Northern Cardinal

• House Sparrow

Until just now (when I looked them up) I didn't know the first four of those seven species existed! Birds (of the non-huntable variety) have never been an interest of mine. I guess now I'm officially an old geezer. Truth is, we should never stop discovering and learning more about God's creation. It gives us more motivation and opportunity to praise him and be in awe of his wisdom.


Of course these pictures are not very good.

I'll try to add some better ones later.

Addition:
Today I was able to identify some new birds:

• Pine Warbler (a yellowish bird that is now a dominant fixture at the feeders, picture below)

• A grey bird with a white underside and a black mohawk (I think it is a White-breasted Nuthatch).

• Dark-eyed Junco (a little round dark grey bird with a white underside)

I didn't have a clue about any of those last three until looking them up. Ok, I'll admit it. I'm officially an old man now. I kinda like bird-watching.

Update (1/6/2016):
I was inside studying today while lots of bird activity was going on at the feeders. Suddenly out of the corner of my eye I saw a shadow and heard a loud thump outside. I got up thinking one of the birds had hit the window. But on the deck with a Pine Warbler in his talons was a Broad-winged hawk! I grabbed my phone and snapped this picture before he flew off with his prize into the woods for a mid-day snack.

I've got to say, it was pretty cool to watch. Yeah, there was a little regret deep down that we had created a cafeteria that provided easy-picking for the hawk, but that's nature. Hey, hawks need to eat too!

Update (1-9-2016)
Just saw a Downey Woodpecker on the feeder.

Update (1-20-2016)
We had a couple of Rufous-sided Towhees and a big Dove visit the feeder today and stay a while. The Dove stubbornly gorged out on seeds ignoring all the attempts of the other birds to spook him away.

Here's a picture:

You can see a female Cardinal and a House Sparrow waiting in line for the hungry dove to finish. As you can see, today we have snow, which has only made the feeders more popular.

That's fourteen different species of birds (most of them new to me) that have come to the feeders in less than a month. That's pretty cool. Watching them reveals to me God's creativity on display in the beauty, diversity, and harmony of these different species.

Old-School (and Cheap-Skate) Oil Finish Wax Waterproofing

A couple of weeks ago Darla found a cotton jacket at Target on sale for $19. She got it for me. I really like it. It only needed a little "customization." I sewed a couple of extra buttons on the sleeves so I had the option to make the cuffs a little tighter around my wrists and I replaced the big white drawstrings around the waist and hood with black leather string and bronze string stops.
Then I wore it the next day. It rained and I got completely soaked! Like, the water was immediately sucked into the jacket to my skin! Not cool.

Now, I'm a big fan of Filson stuff (even though I can't afford it!), and had a small can of Filson Oil Finish Wax that came with the backpack that I got as a gift, so I applied the whole can to my new jacket hoping to make it look and perform more like a Filson Tin Cloth jacket. It sucked it up as it had the rain, and the jacket wasn't even half finished. Uh-oh. After calling every place in town that sells Filson stuff, I found one more can. The jacket sucked it up too. I needed one more. Filson didn't even have any. I found a can on eBay and waited almost two weeks to get it. Finally the jacket was adequately covered. I put it in a trash bag then into the dryer and it came out great! I mean, I absolutely love it. It's a little darker and less yellow-orange colored (a good thing), and it feels more meaty. Costs: Target jacket - $19. Two cans Filson Oil Finish Wax (in addition to the one I already had) - $24 (that's right--the wax cost more than the jacket!).

Sorry, the only shot I have is this of the family a couple of days before Christmas.

I still got a deal: a (now) virtually waterproof jacket that looks great and will last much longer than it would've untreated for $43. Not bad! But the whole time I was treating that jacket, I'm thinking, "There's got to be a cheaper way to do this." An internet search for "Filson Oil Finish Wax recipe" gave some good leads. I combined some of them and ended up making my own version.

The Sparks' Oil Finish Wax:

1 pound block of paraffin wax (got mine at Food City, $4) I think I'll use 2 pounds next time.
3 cups linseed oil (Lowes, $3)
2 tablespoons turpentine (Lowes $0.50)
8 oz. Howard Feed-N-Wax beeswax & orange oil wood polish (half the bottle, bought at Tractor Supply, $7)
A new paint can, a stir stick, and a cheap 2-inch paint brush (Lowes, about $5).

All together this makes almost 2 quarts of oil wax for a grand total of $15 (not counting can, stick, and brush). That means I get MUCH more waterproofing treatment for half the cost (if you include the cost of the can of Filson stuff I already had). According to my calculations, the Filson treatment costs $3.45 per oz. The Sparks homemade treatment costs $.45 per ounce ($.39 if I use an additional brick of wax as I plan to do next time). That means the Filson Oil-Wax costs almost 9 times more expensive per ounce!

So I needed to perform a test. I have an old upland hunting jacket that I wear rabbit and quail hunting. It is light brown and orange (the light brown parts are cotton), and doesn't perform well in briars or rain. I also have a tan heavy canvas bag with a shoulder strap that used to be my work/computer bag that I bought online for about $20 from China several years ago. I now use it to carry hunting stuff (shells, extra clothing, water, dog collars, etc). Perfect for a test.

Here's how it went:
I made a double boiler (a big pot about 1/3 filled with water and the new paint can--remember this stuff is flammable. Handle with care!) and I slowly melted the ingredients in the can and stirred the liquid. While the wax solution was still hot, I brushed it on pretty heavily. Then, as with the Filson wax, I put them in a trash bag and into the dryer for an hour.

The result? The bag has a much more coarse and loose weave, which sucked up the wax and really didn't change the appearance that much. It is a bit stiffer and will stand up by itself now. I haven't tested it in the rain. It also smells a bit stronger than the jacket. I'm a little concerned that if I go somewhere and pack clothes they may smell like it. I'll try to update when I use the bag later. I'm very happy with the jacket. I can't wait to try in out in the briars and the rain. It looks great. It smells a bit strong of linseed oil and maybe a hint of turpentine. But it's not too offensive, and the smell is fading with each day.

Update:
I went rabbit hunting last week in the rain, which gave me a great opportunity to test my jacket. Here's my review:
1. It looks great. The oil-wax makes it look more expensive and rugged in my opinion. The jacket wrinkles in the elbow where it bends. I'm thinking it's going to gain patina and look better with use. The material is a little darker, but not that much. I like it.

The jacket...before.

2. It really feels more hardy and tough. I foresee this treatment making this old jacket last a long time.
3. It is much more briar-resistant and hitchhiker (cocklebur, beggartick, sticktight, burdock, and other stick-to-your-clothing seeds) resistant than the jacket was previously. Notice, I didn't say "briar- and hitchhiker-PROOF." But it is much more so than before.
4. It is not as breathable as before. But it doesn't let the wind cut through either. I'm actually good with this. I'm more prone to get cold (especially during rabbit season) than get hot. And it's still breathable--it seems it is as much as my Gore-Tex stuff.

The bag and jacket...after.

5. It is almost water proof. I hunted for several hours in various degrees of drizzle and rain. I did not get wet underneath. At first the rain and water from trees & brush beaded up and rolled off. As the day went on I noticed it looked like it soaked in the fabric a little. I thought that was bad, but it wasn't. I think the cotton fibers are so filled with oil-wax they can't hold any liquid. It seems to work much like wool, with even some wicking ability. After the hunt, my pants and socks were wet, but only the collar of my shirt was wet. That means I will probably have to get a different hat to wear hunting in the rain. The old baseball-style hunting cap just doesn't have enough coverage. I think I understand the Filson tin-cloth hat thing now a little better! Hmmm...maybe I can make one of those too!
Would I do anything differently? As I previously mentioned, I think next time I will double the amount of wax I used. I think that may make the fabric a little stiffer (e.g. last longer) and even more water-resistant.