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The SteveR Stick Part II

The SteveR Stick Part II

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After several years of use, my hiking stick had become a permanent part of my hunting gear. Since it was now growing too short, lengthening was in order.  It also had developed some wide cracks running along its length, and those also needed addressing. 

I decided on adding some copper ferrules, easily obtained from a few short pieces of copper water pipe. These I epoxied in place and used more epoxy to fill in the longitudinal cracks. 

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For the end I used a longer piece of tubing, attaching it to the stick’s end.  I then used my lathe to turn a piece of oak to fit, and this brought it back to the correct length. 

Over several years the same shortening came about. 

This time when adding the end piece, I drilled a hole through its center and inserted a piece of aluminum to slow wear. It worked. 

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It didn’t take long before continual use wore the wood down, leaving about half an inch of exposed aluminum. 

I am always careful when moving through dense vegetation in Alaska to make noise so that I don’t surprise a bear.  You also have to make a noise that a bear can identify as human, lest it think you might be game to be eaten. 

Using the stick, I realized I could hit the tip on a rock, making a loud and abrasive noise (bears hate it if you bang two rocks together - they must hear it like fingernails on a chalkboard to us).  If I wanted to be quiet, all I had to do was either take care to not strike a rock, or carry it until across the rocky area.  Not only did I have a great hiking stick, it gave protection as well. 

One more thing of value I found.  Several places into my chosen sheep mountains required that I cross some large boulder fields. Using the stick for support was not possible because of the varying rock surfaces.  When working across those fields with a heavy pack, I found I reached a very delicate balance point. It sounds impossible, but if I carried the stick by my side, and felt myself beginning to become ever so slightly unbalanced, I could instantly ‘throw’ the stick out to arm’s length. As it hit the end of my reach, that little amount could be the difference to return perfect balance. 

My old stick has become a constant companion. It has led me safely into and out of the Alaskan wilds every time.  Since my friend’s name is Steve, I began calling it the SteveR stick. A good friend.

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