Jodie Ponto Photography

Today I’m going to share a wilderness survival tip that you can bet they didn’t teach you in Boy Scouts.

In the woods nothing keeps you warmer, happier, and feeling more alive than Bushmoka. Although it may sound like something your Yiddish grandmother wears, Bushmoka is second only to whiskey as the holiest of holy hunting camp drinks.

How To Make Bushmoka

1. Start a campfire if you can. If you can’t, do what I do and use Zip.
2. Fill a coffeepot with water from the nearest creek. Better yet, send a rugged mountain man to do it for you.
3. Put the coffeepot on the most roaring part of the campfire. If you have a grate on top of the fire, great. If not nestle the pot in a flat flaming spot.
4. Wait for the water to boil. Depending how good of a fire you built in Step 1 this can take anywhere from 5-30 minutes.
5. Take the boiling pot off the fire. Unless you have evolved a burn-proof coating on your hands make sure to wear gloves.
6. Forget your inner coffee snob and add whatever coffee grounds you happen to have. If you like your coffee with a kick use at least 4 big spoonfuls. If you don’t have a good relationship with caffeine use less.
7. Let it all brew together for 3-4 minutes.
8. Slowly add a cup of cold creek water to your pot. This will make all the grounds sink to the bottom so you don’t end up with a mouthful of coffee grit.
9. Pour the fresh pot of coffee into individual mugs. Better yet if the individual mugs are labeled with fun names.
10. Stir in hot chocolate powder to taste.

Voila! Bushmoka.

Warning: Bushmoka is extremely addictive. Drink with caution.

Welcome to Chez Porcupine, a spike camp made by the ever crafty Yukon Stone Outfitter crew somewhere along a trail in the Pelly Mountains next to (you guessed it) Porcupine Creek.

Chez Porcupine

Mandatory Morning Snuggles

The Breakfast Club

The Commute To Work

The Kitchen

The Bakery

The Bedroom

The Guest Room

The Workshop

The Laundry Room

The Ladies Sanctuary

The Shower Room

The Makeout Room

The Playroom

The Music Room

The Night Club

The Backyard

Some of you have expressed the desire to see images of rugged & handsome mountain men (yes, I’m talking about you Pratt). Hopefully the following photos will satisfy that ogling desire.

In this post you’re going to meet the crew of Yukon Stone Outfitters, who are some of the most hearty, handy, and competent folks I know. Quite a few of them have been spending time out in the mountains since the moment they were conceived in their parents’ bedrolls, and as such they possess the sort of skills that knock my clumsy self right off its feet.

Mac

This is Mac. He’s what makes Yukon Stone happen. He’s good at wearing any set of shoes he’s handed – hunting guide, pilot, outfitter, bossman. Really, he’s just the whole shebang.

Jamie

This is JC. And by JC I mean Jamie Connors, not Jesus Christ. I’ve been told Jamie is to hunting guides what Brinjamin Porter is to bass players. For anyone who that comparison sounds like gibberish to, it means he’s so talented it hurts and if you ever go hunting you’d be fortunate to have him guiding you.

Skyler

This is Skyler. He’s perhaps the most stylish hunting guide you’ll ever meet and camp’s resident entertainer. If you keep an eye out in upcoming posts you might meet his trusty companion Bucksnort.

Jody

Depending who you talk to, this is Jody, JP, Cookie, Old Peck, or Miss Quincy. Whatever you want to call her, she is without a doubt the best straight up cook I’ve ever met. Seriously, how many people do you know who can bake bread, buns, cookies, granola bars, date nut loaf, and black forest cake all in one afternoon over one little mother effing campfire? I can’t even do that with a new fangled electric oven.

Clayton

This is Clayton. He can most often be found snuggling with his greatest love, the chainsaw. He also climbs a mean tree. He is the camp’s wrangler, which means he has to do things that would make me curl up in the fetal position. For example, go out before anyone else is awake into the sort of darkness that houses bears & witches & werewolves and find 20 horses who could potentially be anywhere in the whole mountain range.

Ponies

These are a few of the Yukon Stone horses. Without them mountain life would be miserable because you’d have to traipse through rivers and mud bogs yourself and pack more pounds on your back than is humanly possible.

Puppies

This is Arrow (first photo) and Pelly (second photo). They are quite possibly the happiest canines I’ve ever met. I guess I would be too if I was a dog whose life revolved around eating lots of meat, having free run of an entire mountain range, lounging by the campfire, and sleeping in my best human friend’s bedroll.

One Final Photo

You’re wrong if you think the plane crash was my least favorite part of spending a week in a Yukon hunting camp.

To tide you all over until I finish sorting through the truckloads of photos I took while out in the mountains, here are 5 things I like less than being in a plane crash.

Cold Nights

A plane crash is over quickly. Shivering all night in a pile of frosty bedrolls is not.

Being Asexual

Although pink silk long johns may feel like the sexiest thing in the world when you’re in the mountains, they actually make you look like a plastic asexual creature. I would rather be in a plane crash than be a plastic asexual creature.

Having Nothing to Read in the Outhouse but Playgirl

Having nothing to read in the outhouse but a rogue Playgirl is funny the first few times, but after awhile a plane crash seems preferable to spending another moment with Vincenzo and his centerfold of hair pants or the 2 blond twins Doug & Doyle who like to give each other piggy backs on the beach in their matching speedos.

Trailing Horses in the Rain, Sleet, and Snow

I have ridden horses so few times in my life that even on a good day I feel certain I will never walk again and that I have probably also been sterilized. Perhaps with this in mind you can understand why I would rather be in a quick little plane crash than go on an 8 hour, 8 horse ride over 3 mountain passes in the rain, sleet, and snow. In this photo you can see Mac and JP taking advantage of the glorious weather to re-pack a horse.

Falling off a Horse

Who knew tumbling off a horse could hurt worse than a plane crash? This deadly looking double war wound is from the time I showed off my graceful riding skills by being slow-motion knocked off my horse by a tree.