Woodsman Bart

Among my connections on social media there are people who hold incredibly important and high positions. It may be a method to impress, but that is not in my nature. Who am I? Just a woodsman, wanderer, woodcutter, gardener, tracker and much more...

My life started in Rotterdam, the Netherlands, a gray city just after the war. I was six years old when we moved to Hilversum. This is where my wandering life began. The Hoorneboeg was the wilderness for me and my best friend Hans, along with pheasants, deer, hares and foxes. The books of countless voyages of discovery strengthened the urge for adventure. This wilderness became too small, and we shifted our adventures to the Loosdrechtse Plassen. We explored our new wilderness by walking, swimming and rowing. During our secondary school years we had already gained extensive experience in surviving in nature such as catching wildlife (with our bare hands), fishing, collecting edible plants, berries and fruits, etc. From time to time we returned to the hunter-gatherer lifestyle to exist. We also learned to navigate with the sun and on our nighttime adventures with the moon and stars. After the many discovery trips on the Hoorneboeg and on and around the Loosdrechtse Plassen, we shifted our expeditions to the Doorn and Leersum region. On weekends and holidays we went to the Sandenburg estate and surrounding areas by bike. There we tracked down hares, rabbits, ermines, roe deer and red deer. During the exciting nighttime hours we recognized various owl species. The night sounds in the forest were a great adventure in themselves. We learned to recognize each bird by its song and we managed to track down each animal based on foraging damage and prints. Our desire for adventure knew no bounds.
Once again, this wilderness around Hilversum and Doorn also became too small. The borders were shifted to the Veluwe. As fourteen-year-olds, we took our bikes, an old army surplus sleeping bag and a cotton tent, then cycled to hotel de Zwarte Boer, along the edge of the Hoge Veluwe. For days we wandered through the spruce and pine forests with a bag of old sandwiches as provisions. We tracked down red deer and boars. In the night hours we lay along the feeding grounds and saw the grunting and screeching pigs fighting over a few acorns. In the autumn we had to get used to the rutting sounds, like the bellowing of the red deer.

The Veluwe became too small for me, the Drenthe forests were a new challenge, especially when my parents moved to a small farm on the border of Friesland and Drenthe. Unfortunately, I lost sight of Hans after the Drenthe wilderness had also become too small. Already during high school, I knew that the Canadian wilderness was infinitely bigger than our Dutch wilderness. From the moment I first stood on Canadian soil, I knew, here are areas where no human has ever set foot. With only my backpack and equipment, I wandered through the most uninhabited areas for months without meeting a single human being. My fellow creatures were the deer, moose, bears, wolves, coyotes, foxes, lynxes and the imposing eagles as well as many other birds. The mosquitoes were the most common creatures, which took some getting used to. I have traveled thousands of kilometers on foot with my trusty backpack, through swamps, tundra, majestic mountains and endless pine forests. The wetlands, lakes and rivers were an ideal opportunity to explore the wilderness by canoe. This wilderness was big enough for me. I was content.

I became a professional soldier and adventurer. Instructor training and later teacher training would become my path in between adventures. Thanks to my top-level sports time and karate training, teaching alternated between the outdoors and the gym. After 16 years of military service, I returned to the wilderness of Canada and organized trainings to teach others the skills needed to travel and survive in remote areas. Navigation, meteorology, first aid, edible and medicinal plants were on the program. But also mountain climbing, canoeing and kayak training with associated rescue techniques, crossing fast-flowing rivers along with associated rescue techniques, tracking down wildlife, locating missing or lost people and surviving in the wilderness without any 'civilized means' were taught.

Continuing to learn is a meaningful activity. A study in psychology and psychiatry is very beneficial when teaching, after all, you have to deal with people in sometimes the most extreme circumstances. A forensic study also turned out to be useful, especially because people still get lost in that great wilderness and need to be tracked. During the long winter there is ample opportunity to keep studying.

I remained a teacher and a wanderer. Karate, kung-fu and running training are on my weekly program. Of course I exercise every day, less intensively than before, but I do it. When we're home in our little house on the edge of the Canadian wilderness, I'm a lumberjack to replenish the wood supply for the winter, and a gardener to get some healthy food on my plate. Beside these activities we pack a backpack or kayak to venture into the wild.