Zeitschriftenartikel zum Thema „Outdoor gear“

Aplikasi instragram adalah aplikasi yang paling populer yang dapat digunakan untuk berbagi foto dan juga video. Faktor inilah yang manjadi alasan kenapa Instagram memiliki banyak manfaat bagi pelaku bisnis. Produk yang dijual dapat dipasarkan melewati fitur-fitur yang terdapat pada akun Instagram.Metode penelitian ini menggunakan metode kualitatif studi kasus dengan cara mendeskripsikan apa yang dilakukan RR Outdoor Gear dalam melakukan strategi pemasaran melalui instagram rroutdoorgear_official. Teknik penentuan informan menggunakan metode purposive, informan untuk penelitian ini berjumlah 3 orang yang dipilih peneliti karena memiliki kompetensi dibidangnya. Pengumpulan data dilakukan melalui observasi, wawancara, dan dokumentasi. Metode analisis data dilakukan dengan tiga cara yaitu Data Condensation, Data Display, dan Conclusion Drawing atau Verifications. RR Outdoor Gear adalah bisnis yang menjual perlengkapan-perlengkapan pendakian (naik gunung) yang berdiri tahun 2015. Saat ini RR Outdoor Gear sudah merambah kebisnis yang lain, diantaranya persewaan (rental) alat-alat gunung, perbaikan/reparasi alat-alat gunung, dan Trip Organizer. Strategi pemasaran RR Outdoor Gear melalui akun instagram dari rroutdoorgear_official dilakukan dengan menggunakan fitur-fitur instagram diantaranya strategi posting produk (feed instagram), penggunaan hashtag, penggunaan insta story (highlights), serta DM (Direct Message). Fitur yang ada dalam instagram tersebut dijadikan alat RR Outdoor Gear dalam memasarkan produk yang dijual, baik penjualan barangnya (pakaian/perlengkapan alat-alat gunung), maupun penjualan jasanya (persewaan, reparasi/perbaikan, dan trip organizer).

This paper presents the design, implementation, and testing of a soft landing gear together with a neural network-based control method for replicating avian landing behavior on non-flat surfaces. With full consideration of unmanned aerial vehicles and landing gear requirements, a quadrotor helicopter, comprised of one flying unit and one landing assistance unit, is employed. Considering the touchdown speed and posture, a novel design of a soft mechanism for non-flat surfaces is proposed, in order to absorb the remaining landing impact. The framework of the control strategy is designed based on a derived dynamic model. A neural network-based backstepping controller is applied to achieve the desired trajectory. The simulation and outdoor testing results attest to the effectiveness and reliability of the proposed control method.

A walking assistance device using a flexible shaft was developed. The combination of a flexible shaft with a worm gear was successfully adopted on this device to simplify its appearance and reduce its size. A hybridcontrol system on this device controls both torque and angle at the ankle and knee joints. In this system, the torsional spring constant of the flexible shaft is taken into account by the motor in controlling the power and angle of rotation of the motor. To expand the area in which a person may use the device, it is equipped with a self-contained system powered by a Lithium-ion battery and controlled by an SH-4 microcomputer and actuators, consisting of motors and gears, all of which are carried in a small backpack. Consequently, persons using the device may walk freely in both indoor and outdoor environments.

Outdoor recreation gives different project benefits likes gear rental and outdoor exercises. Safety awareness is related to outdoor recreation activities such as climbing and hiking. The objective was divided into three aspects, the relationship between personality and responsible behavior, the relationship between personality and attitudes, and the relationship between safety awareness attitudes and responsible behavior among climbers. This study used a quantitative method that involved 378 climbers of four mountains in Malaysia. The finding indicated that responsible behavior influences personality and a personality influences attitude. It is showed that there was a significant relationship among the climbers.Keywords: safety awareness; personality; attitudes; responsible behavioreISSN: 2398-4287 © 2020. The Authors. Published for AMER ABRA cE-Bs by e-International Publishing House, Ltd., UK. This is an open-access article under the CC BYNC-ND license (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/4.0/). Peer-review under responsibility of AMER (Association of Malaysian Environment-Behaviour Researchers), ABRA (Association of Behavioural Researchers on Asians) and cE-Bs (Centre for Environment-Behaviour Studies), Faculty of Architecture, Planning & Surveying, Universiti Teknologi MARA, Malaysia.DOI: https://doi.org/10.21834/e-bpj.v5i13.2097

Abstract Online collaboration presents a real alternative to the company-centered innovation paradigm, and some users do more than just innovate, going the extra mile and actually creating brands themselves. The open-source movement, for instance, has produced a series of well-known brands such as Linux, Apache and Mozilla Firefox. The outdoor hiking community OutdoorSeiten.net serves as another example. Its members are dedicated to all types of outdoor sports and created their own gear to better fit their needs. Often, community brands are not planned but evolve accidentally as byproducts of community interactions. Their value is seen not only within the community but throughout the whole industry. The ability to commonly design “ideal” products at lower expenses and without the threat of being exploited or overtaken by the next fashion wave enchants its users and fans alike. This phenomenon of engaged consumers producing their own brands places them in the same position as other producers, which is both a challenge and an opportunity for commercial companies.

This study traces the development and evolution of Snake River use and management through an in-depth exploration of historic commercial scenic river guiding and concessions on the upper Snake River in Grand Teton National Park (GRTE) from 1950 to the present day. The research is based on a combination of methods including archival research, oral history analysis, historical landscape analysis, and fieldwork. I suggest that a distinct cultural community of river runners and outdoor recreationalists developed in Grand Teton National Park after World War II. In GRTE, a combination of physical, cultural, and technical forces shaped this community’s evolution including the specific geomorphology and dynamic channel patterns of the upper Snake River, the individuals and groups that worked on this river, and changes in boat and gear technology over time. The following paper presents the early results from the first year of this project in 2016 including the work of a graduate student and myself. This study offers connections between the upper Snake River and Grand Teton National Park to broader national trends in the evolution of outdoor recreation and concessions in national parks, the impact of World War II on technological developments for boating, and the cultural history of adventure outdoor recreation and tourism in the United States. Featured photo by Elton Menefee on Unsplash. https://unsplash.com/photos/AHgCFeg-gXg

Arcade, a regional architecture style in Taiwan, is gradually replaced by sidewalk with the prevailing global trends of architecture design, thereby bringing greater challenges to pedestrians comfort. Past researches suggest optimal urban wind regime can mitigate heat island effect and enhance pedestrians comfort level. Therefore, the relationship between arcade and pedestrian wind comfort as well as the influence of arcade’s height-to-width ratios (H/W) on urban wind environment are worth a thorough research. This study takes Farglory Kyoto Community as the example. Arcades in three varied sizes are compared: In Case 1, height-to-width ratio (H/W) =1.25; Case 2(H/W=1.54); Case 3(H/W=0.75). In Aug 2016, field measurement was conducted comparable anal++ysis on outdoor environmental comfort. The field measurement result indicates that, wind environment is more stable for arcade than sidewalk, and that air temperature of arcade is 3.9 °C lower than sidewalk, thereby concluding arcade tends to generate more pedestrian wind comfort in summer. The measurement result of Thermo GEAR G100EXD suggests, during the hottest time at noon, the difference between air temperature on sidewalk and on arcade reaches 8 °C. This study also proves that in subtropical climates, arcade is more likely to provide pedestrians with higher comfort level, and that air temperature on arcade is 3.9°C lower than outdoors. The lower the height-to-width ratio is, the more comfortable the environment appears to be.

Abstract Sparrevohn, C. R., and Storr-Paulsen, M. 2012. Using interview-based recall surveys to estimate cod Gadus morhua and eel Anguilla anguilla harvest in Danish recreational fishing. – ICES Journal of Marine Science, 69: 323–330. Marine recreational fishing is a popular outdoor activity in Denmark, practised by both anglers and passive gear fishers. However, the impact on the targeted stocks is unknown, so to estimate the 2009 harvest of cod Gadus morhua and eel Anguilla anguilla, two separate interview-based surveys were initiated and carried out in 2009/2010. The first recall survey exclusively targeted fishers who had been issued with the mandatory Danish fishing licence. The second survey was designed to identify those who fish without a licence. It was estimated that 1231 t of cod were harvested in 2009, corresponding to 4.8% of the entire Danish cod yield (recreational harvest + commercial landings). Area differences were found, and, in certain areas, the recreational harvest of cod accounted for more than 30% of the total yield. The majority (81%) of the recreational cod harvest was taken by anglers. Eels, however, are almost exclusively caught with passive gear (fykenets) and a total of 104 t year−1 was harvested, which corresponds to 19% of the entire Danish eel yield. The inclusion of the harvest taken by fishers without a valid licence was important and added almost 20% to the estimated harvest.

Thirty-two rock climbers, all self-identifying as capable of lead climbing (place protective gear in the rock, to mitigate the risks of falling), climbed an outdoor route while placing what they believed was the necessary amount of protection. Cameras recorded the percentage of time they spent climbing upward (productivity) relative to placing protection (safety). We then applied STOM (strategic task overload model) to predict percent time-on-task, using the differences in their ratings of task interest, task priority, and task difficulty as predictors. The model significantly predicted time on task for the participants categorized as experts, but not for those categorized as non-experts. Time on the climbing (versus protection) task for the expert group, but not the non-expert group, was also predicted by a derived measure inferred to assess risk tolerance in climbing.

Since 2000, the number of emergency department visits and hospital admissions for children who have sustained a fall from a skateboard has undergone a noticeable decline. One possible explanation for this decline is that children today lead a more sedentary lifestyle and are not as engaged in outdoor physical activities as were children in previous generations. The profile of patients injured in skateboarding-related accidents has also changed since 2000. The percent minority, percent residents of large metropolitan areas, and percent who incur an injury on a street or highway have all increased during this time period. Data based on observations of riders in skateboard parks indicate that the overwhelming majority do not wear protective gear such as helmets, elbow/knee pads, or wrist guards, and that a sizable segment of riders compound their risk of injury by using headphones or earbuds when performing maneuvers.

Once seen as a miracle material, petroleum-based plastics are now arguably one of the largest sources of pollution on the planet. With 80% of land-based litter ending up in our oceans, ocean plastic is now reported to be on track to outweigh fish by 2050. Conservationists have been able to identify the most harmful form of ocean plastic pollution for marine mammals, turtles, and seabirds worldwide to be discarded fishing gear. Bureo, a company operating between Chile and California in partnership with sustainable outdoor retailer Patagonia, is addressing this issue by transforming this harmful material into high-value products. Through their shared-value business model and life cycle thinking, they have built a network of partnering fishing communities across the coast of Chile committed to return their fishing nets at their end of life in exchange for compensation towards community programs. Through their innovative supply chain and the living product challenge framework, Bureo is setting out to achieve the first plastic with a net positive impact on the environment and people.

Introduction: Agricultural workers perform intense labor outside in direct sunlight and in humid environmental conditions exposing them to a high risk of heat-related illness (HRI). To implement effective cooling interventions in occupational settings, it is important to consider workers’ perceptions. To date, an analysis of agricultural workers’ experience and perception of cooling devices used in the field while working has not been published. Methods: Qualitatively data from 61 agricultural workers provided details of their perceptions and experiences with cooling interventions. Results: The participants in the bandana group reported the bandana was practical to use at work and did not interfere with their work routine. Cooling vest group participants agreed that the vest was effective at cooling them, but the practicality of using the vest at work was met with mixed reviews. Conclusion: The findings of this qualitative study support and extend existing research regarding personal cooling and heat prevention research interventions with vulnerable occupational groups. Personal cooling gear was well received and utilized by the agricultural workers. Sustainable heat prevention studies and governmental protection strategies for occupational heat stress are urgently needed to reduce the risk of heat-related morbidity, mortality, and projected climate change health impacts on outdoor workers.

Young adults enrolled in collegiate agricultural programs are a critical audience for agricultural health and safety training. Understanding the farm tasks that young adults engage in is necessary for tailoring health and safety education. The project analyzed evaluation survey responses from the Gear Up for Ag Health and Safety™ program, including reported agricultural tasks, safety concerns, frequency of discussing health and safety concerns with healthcare providers, safety behaviors, and future career plans. The most common tasks reported included operation of machinery and grain-handling. Most participants intended to work on a family-owned agricultural operation or for an agribusiness/cooperative following graduation. Reported safety behaviors (hearing protection, eye protection, and sunscreen use when performing outdoor tasks) differed by gender and education type. Male community college and university participants reported higher rates of “near-misses” and crashes when operating equipment on the roadway. One-third of participants reported discussing agricultural health and safety issues with their medical provider, while 72% were concerned about the health and safety of their family and co-workers in agriculture. These findings provide guidance for better development of agricultural health and safety programs addressing this population—future trainings should be uniquely tailored, accounting for gender and educational differences.

Kegiatan pengabdian ini dilatarbelakangi permasalahan mitra yang diidentifikasi meliputi (1) Umumnya para guru di PAUD lebih banyak memberikan kegiatan di dalam ruangan, (2) Kurangnya inovasi para guru dalam memberikan metode pengajaran melalui permainan, (3) Pengajar di PAUD Rw 01 Kel. Pekayon Kec. Pasar Rebo adalah ibu-ibu PKK dan bukan lulusan dari perguruan tinggi pendidikan anak usia dini, (4) Anak-anak tidak dapat beraktivitas dengan bebas karena terbatas dengan ruang dan media permainan outdoor, (5) Anak-anak menjadi pasif dikarenakan bosan akan kegiatan di dalam ruangan terus menerus, dan (6) Karakter anak yang seharusnya tumbuh sejak dini menjadi terhambat. Adapun solusi yang ditawarkan ialah memberikan pelatihan dan pendampingan pelaksanaan permainan outdoor bagi guru dan siswa PAUD RW 01 Kelurahan Pekayon. Target luaran pengandian ini berupa jasa pelatihan dan pendampingan permainan outdoor bagi siswa dan guru PAUD RW 01 Kelurahan Pekayon yang dilaksanakan selama dua hari. Metode yang digunakan adalah metode ceramah, simulasi, dan diskusi. Hasil dari pelaksanaan kegiatan pengabdian masyarakat ini yaitu memberi gambaran dan arahan kepada guru bahwa melakukan penanaman karakter siswa dapat melalui permainan-permainan outdoor yang bersifat edukatif. Permainan-permainan outdoor yang bersifat edukatif memberi kesempatan kepada siswa belajar bekerjasama, kekompakan, toleransi, kejujuran, kedisiplinan, kerja keras, meningkatkan kreativitas, mandiri, demokratis, rasa ingin tahu, semangat kebangsaan, menghargai, kepemimpinan, kerjasama, peduli lingkungan, peduli sosial, tanggung jawab, religius, dan gemar membaca.

The objective of this study was to evaluate Freedom-Ranger broiler chickens as a method to control face fly (Musca autumnalis De Geer) larvae in cow dung pats on pasture. Ninety-nine pats in three replicates were inoculated with first-instar larvae and exposed to one of four treatment conditions for 3 to 4 days: (1) an environment-controlled greenhouse (GH); (2) pasture without broilers (NEG); (3) pasture with 25 broilers stocked at a low density of 2.5 m2 of outdoor area per broiler (LOW); and (4) pasture with 25 broilers stocked at a high density of 0.5 m2 of outdoor area per broiler (HIGH). Broiler behaviors and weather conditions were recorded twice daily. Survival rates of larvae (mean, 95% CI) were similar for pats in the NEG (4.4%, 2–9%), LOW (5.6%, 3–11%), and HIGH (3.2%, 2–7%) groups, and was greatest for larvae reared in the GH (54.4%, 36–72%) group compared to all other groups. The proportion of broilers observed pasture ranging was 14.0% (6–28%) but was negatively related to solar radiation. Broilers were never observed foraging in pats. Results indicate that use of broilers may not be an effective method for controlling larvae of dung pat breeding flies.

Kegiatan pengabdian kepada masyarakat di Desa Sungai Dua dalam Diversifikasi Olahan Ikan lele Berbumbu diikuti oleh masyarakat Desa Sungai Dua. Kegiatan meliputi presentasi materi gemar makan ikan, pembagian leaflet, dan pembagian makanan hasil olahan ikan. Kegiatan pengabdian kepada masyarakat dilaksanakan di Laboratorium Outdoor Desa Sungai Dua Universitas Sumatera Selatan. Kegiatan pengabdian kepada masyarakat yang bertujuan untuk anjuran mengkonsumsi makanan olahan ikan, meningkatkan pendapatan masyarakat khusus masyarakat di Desa sungai dua dan harapan memberikan pemahaman kepada para masyarakat yang mengikuti kegiatan Pengabdian kepada masyarakat. Kegiatan berjalan lancar dihadiri kurang lebih 100 peserta di ruang Aula Laboratorium lapangan prodi ilmu perikanan. Para peserta sangat antusias. Masyarakat yang mengikuti pelatihan memiliki motivasi yang lebih utuk usah di bidang perikanan.

This paper explores the tourism trends emerging in post COVID- world. This pandemic was conscientious for an abrupt transformation in the way world travelled. This impulsive impediment in the tourism and hospitality industry was not only unconstructive to the growth of the industry but the imminent influences on future tourism are also looking dim and muted. Virtual Reality has emerged as a new innovative approach to attract viewers though providing them a virtual experience of tourism a tour destination with enhanced technological version. Virtual reality is the new normal in the digital world. People are slowly gaining access to digital tourism experiences through Virtual Reality tourism concept. The increase in virtual reality tourism trend is most welcome thing globally. This trend capitalizes on the use of technology to make viewers experience a touring destination. It includes Virtual Reality tours through which a tourist or viewer can experience a tourist destination, hotel interiors, restaurant interiors, outdoor tourist attractions, shopping sites, archaeological inputs, museums, etc sitting in home. This viewer is made to experience complete visit of the destination through VR head gears and comply with his aspirations of touring. Without being physically present on the tourist site a viewer can become a tourist and see all sites as naturally as a tourister. But this usage of technology driven virtual reality tools are challenged by several factors.

Because wearable technology is ubiquitous, it is important to determine validity and reliability not only in a laboratory setting, but applied environments where the general population utilizes the devices. The purpose of this study was to 1) determine intra-rater reliability of visual step count outdoors, 2) determine validity of commercially available wearable technology devices in this setting, and 3) report test-retest reliability of commercial devices during hiking and trail running. Individuals (N = 20) completed 5-min hikes and trail runs on a 200-m section of trail while wearing the following devices: Fitbit Surge 2, Garmin Vivosmart HR+, Leaf Health Tracker, Polar A360, Samsung Gear 2, Spire Activity Tracker, and Stryd Power Meter. Intra-rater reliability and test-retest reliability was determined through Intraclass Correlation (ICC), while validity was determined via Bland-Altman analysis (limits of agreement; LoA), mean average percentage error (MAPE), and ICC. Significance was accepted at thep < .05 level. Steps determined by two independent counters were significantly reliable for the hike (ICC = 0.993, p < 0.001) and trail run (ICC = 0.991,p < 0.001). Three devices were valid across both exercise types and all methods of validity: Garmin Vivosmart HR+ (MAPE = 5.4%, ICC = 0.815, LoA = −58.1 to 50.4), Leaf Health Tracker (MAPE = 8.4%, ICC = 0.816, LoA = −78.8 to 39.4), and Stryd Power Meter (MAPE = 4.7%, ICC = 0.799, LoA = −34.3 to 78.9). As only certain devices returned valid step measurements, continued testing in applied environments are needed to have confidence in utilizing technology to track health and activity goals.

This study was designed to measure the O2 uptake (VO2) of cyclists while they rode outdoors at speeds from 32 to 40 km/h. Regression analyses of data from 92 trials using the same wheels, tires, and tire pressure with the cyclists riding in their preferred gear and in an aerodynamic position indicated the best equation (r = 0.84) to estimate VO2 in liters per minute VO2 = -4.50 + 0.17 rider speed + 0.052 wind speed + 0.022 rider weight where rider and wind speed are expressed in kilometers per hour and rider weight in kilograms. Following another rider closely, i.e., drafting, at 32 km/h reduced VO2 by 18 +/- 11%; the benefit of drafting a single rider at 37 and 40 km/h was greater (27 +/- 8%) than that at 32 km/h. Drafting one, two, or four riders in a line at 40 km/h resulted in the same reduction in VO2 (27 +/- 7%). Riding at 40 km/h at the back of a group of eight riders reduced VO2 by significantly more (39 +/- 6%) than drafting one, two, or four riders in a line; drafting a vehicle at 40 km/h resulted in the greatest decrease in VO2 (62 +/- 6%). VO2 was also 7 +/- 4% lower when the cyclists were riding an aerodynamic bicycle. An aerodynamic set of wheels with a reduced number of spokes and one set of disk wheels were the only wheels to reduce VO2 significantly while the cyclists were riding a conventional racing bicycle at 40 km/h.(ABSTRACT TRUNCATED AT 250 WORDS)

Many companies view financial variables independently from ecological and social variables. Is it possible to hold one's organization equally accountable for financial performance and social responsibility? This field-based case is suitable for MBA and undergraduate courses or modules in sustainability and innovation, ethics, and corporate social responsibility. For REI, an outdoor gear and apparel manufacturer, the challenge lies in how to expand sustainability awareness through consensus building across the organization and with outside collaborators. As it designs a new strategic framework for the operations footprint, the company seeks to adopt a corporate strategy on product stewardship and adapt its philanthropy strategy around sustainability objectives.

In past few years, Indonesian people have a lot of interest in traveling and other outdoor activities like hiking, camping, etc. People start to explore the beauty of Indonesia and it impacts to the increase in Indonesia tourism. This condition makes many people looking for stuffs to support their outdoor activities. This increasing demand stimulates many local companies produce outdoor gear and this market facing a tighter competition than before. The purpose of this research is to analyze the proper strategy for PT. XYZ in facing the market competition. Defining internal and external factors of the company are important in formulating the alternative strategies. Therefore, this research use descriptive qualitative method and using CPM Matrix, IFE Matrix, EFE Matrix, SWOT Matrix, IE Matrix, and QSPM to find out the suitable strategy which will help the company survive in market competition. In final result, the suitable strategy for PT. XYZ is developing the waterproof product (shoes and carrier) for tropical product.

Industrial gearboxes are designed for minimum 3 to 5 years of life considering normal working conditions. Theoretical life of gearbox system can be predicted by calculating the life of individual components of the gearbox like bearings, coupling and gear-pair. There is significant amount of research work done on estimating individual component life perdition however combined life prediction of a gearbox is a quite complex phenomenon. The challenge in developing a single life prediction model for variety of gearboxes available in today’s market. There is a huge variety in their types, sizes, costs, application conditions (indoor, outdoor, marine, aerospace), safety requirements (domestic to hazardous). Providing a common solution that address all these is near to impossible. Major cause of early gearbox failure is wrong selection for application, improper installation, contaminants and excessive shock and impact loads. Vibration measurement gives an early indication of failure of rotating parts in gearbox which are primarily bearings and gear-pair. This research focuses on step by step approach to calculate the life of bearings in a gear box and gearbox life prediction models. The methodology followed can be used for other types of industrial gearboxes.

This essay combines life writing with meditations on the significance of walking as integral to the ritual practice of pilgrimage, where the individual improves her soul or health through the act of walking to a shrine containing healing relics of a saint. Braiding together insights from medieval literature, contemporary ecocriticism, and memory studies, I reflect on my own pilgrimage practice as it impacts the land itself. Canterbury, England serves as the central shrine for four pilgrimages over decades: 1966, 1994, 1997, and 2003.The act of memory was not invented in the Anthropocene. Rather, the nonhuman world has taught humans how to remember. From ice-core samples retaining the history of Europe’s weather to rocks embedded with fossilized extinct species, nonhuman actors literally petrifying or freezing the past—from geologic sites to frozen water—become exposed through the process of anthropocentric discovery and human interference. The very act of human uncovery and analysis threatens to eliminate the nonhuman actor which has hospitably shared its own experience. How can humans script nonhuman memory?As for the history of memory studies itself, a new phase is arguably beginning, shifting from “the transnational, transcultural, or global to the planetary; from recorded to deep history; from the human to the nonhuman” (Craps et al. 3). Memory studies for the Anthropocene can “focus on the terrestrialized significance of (the historicized) forms of remembrance but also on the positioning of who is remembering and, ultimately, which ‘Anthropocene’ is remembered” (Craps et al. 5). In this era of the “self-conscious Anthropocene” (Craps et al. 6), narrative itself can focus on “the place of nonhuman beings in human stories of origins, identity, and futures point to a possible opening for the methods of memory studies” (Craps et al. 8). The nonhuman on the paths of this essay range from the dirt on the path to the rock used to build the sacred shrine, the ultimate goal. How they intersect with human actors reveals how the “human subject is no longer the one forming the world, but does indeed constitute itself through its relation to and dependence on the object world” (Marcussen 14, qtd. in Rodriguez 378). Incorporating “nonhuman species as objects, if not subjects, of memory [...] memory critics could begin by extending their objects to include the memory of nonhuman species,” linking both humans and nonhumans in “an expanded multispecies frame of remembrance” (Craps et al. 9). My narrative—from diaries recording sacred journey to a novel structured by pilgrimage—propels motion, but also secures in memory events from the past, including memories of those nonhuman beings I interact with.Childhood PilgrimageThe little girl with brown curls sat crying softly, whimpering, by the side of the road in lush grass. The mother with her soft brown bangs and an underflip to her hair told the story of a little girl, sitting by the side of the road in lush grass.The story book girl had forgotten her Black Watch plaid raincoat at the picnic spot where she had lunched with her parents and two older brothers. Ponchos spread out, the family had eaten their fresh yeasty rolls, hard cheese, apples, and macaroons. The tin clink of the canteen hit their teeth as they gulped metallic water, still icy cold from the taps of the ancient inn that morning. The father cut slices of Edam with his Swiss army knife, parsing them out to each child to make his or her own little sandwich. The father then lay back for his daily nap, while the boys played chess. The portable wooden chess set had inlaid squares, each piece no taller than a fingernail paring. The girl read a Junior Puffin book, while the mother silently perused Agatha Christie. The boy who lost at chess had to play his younger sister, a fitting punishment for the less able player. She cheerfully played with either brother. Once the father awakened, they packed up their gear into their rucksacks, and continued the pilgrimage to Canterbury.Only the little Black Watch plaid raincoat was left behind.The real mother told the real girl that the story book family continued to walk, forgetting the raincoat until it began to rain. The men pulled on their ponchos and the mother her raincoat, when the little girl discovered her raincoat missing. The story book men walked two miles back while the story book mother and girl sat under the dripping canopy of leaves provided by a welcoming tree.And there, the real mother continued, the storybook girl cried and whimpered, until a magic taxi cab in which the father and boys sat suddenly appeared out of the mist to drive the little girl and her mother to their hotel.The real girl’s eyes shone. “Did that actually happen?” she asked, perking up in expectation.“Oh, yes,” said the real mother, kissing her on the brow. The girl’s tears dried. Only the plops of rain made her face moist. The little girl, now filled with hope, cuddled with her mother as they huddled together.Without warning, out of the mist, drove up a real magic taxi cab in which the real men sat. For magic taxi cabs really exist, even in the tangible world—especially in England. At the very least, in the England of little Susie’s imagination.Narrative and PilgrimageMy mother’s tale suggests how this story echoes in yet another pilgrimage story, maintaining a long tradition of pilgrimage stories embedded within frame tales as far back as the Middle Ages.The Christian pilgrim’s walk parallels Christ’s own pilgrimage to Emmaus. The blisters we suffer echo faintly the lash Christ endured. The social relations of the pilgrim are “diachronic” (Alworth 98), linking figures (Christ) from the past to the now (us, or, during the Middle Ages, William Langland’s Piers Plowman or Chaucer’s band who set out from Southwark). We embody the frame of the vera icon, the true image, thus “conjur[ing] a site of simultaneity or a plane of immanence where the actors of the past [...] meet those of the future” (Alworth 99). Our quotidian walk frames the true essence or meaning of our ambulatory travail.In 1966, my parents took my two older brothers and me on the Pilgrims’ Way—not the route from London to Canterbury that Chaucer’s pilgrims would have taken starting south of London in Southwark, rather the ancient trek from Winchester to Canterbury, famously chronicled in The Old Road by Hilaire Belloc. The route follows along the south side of the Downs, where the muddy path was dried by what sun there was. My parents first undertook the walk in the early 1950s. Slides from that pilgrimage depict my mother, voluptuous in her cashmere twinset and tweed skirt, as my father crosses a stile. My parents, inspired by Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales, decided to walk along the traditional Pilgrims’ Way to Canterbury. Story intersects with material traversal over earth on dirt-laden paths.By the time we children came along, the memories of that earlier pilgrimage resonated with my parents, inspiring them to take us on the same journey. We all carried our own rucksacks and walked five or six miles a day. Concerning our pilgrimage when I was seven, my mother wrote in her diary:As good pilgrims should, we’ve been telling tales along the way. Yesterday Jimmy told the whole (detailed) story of That Darn Cat, a Disney movie. Today I told about Stevenson’s Travels with a Donkey, which first inspired me to think of walking trips and everyone noted the resemblance between Stevenson’s lovable, but balky, donkey and our sweet Sue. (We hadn’t planned to tell tales, but they just happened along the way.)I don’t know how sweet I was; perhaps I was “balky” because the road was so hard. Landscape certainly shaped my experience.As I wrote about the pilgrimage in my diary then, “We went to another Hotel and walked. We went and had lunch at the Boggly [booglie] place. We went to a nother hotel called The Swan with fether Quits [quilts]. We went to the Queens head. We went to the Gest house. We went to aother Hotle called Srping wells and my tooth came out. We saw some taekeys [turkeys].” The repetition suggests how pilgrimage combines various aspects of life, from the emotional to the physical, the quotidian (walking and especially resting—in hotels with quilts) with the extraordinary (newly sprung tooth or the appearance of turkeys). “[W]ayfaring abilities depend on an emotional connection to the environment” (Easterlin 261), whether that environment is modified by humans or even manmade, inhabited by human or nonhuman actors. How can one model an “ecological relationship between humans and nonhumans” in narrative (Rodriguez 368)? Rodriguez proposes a “model of reading as encounter [...] encountering fictional story worlds as potential models” (Rodriguez 368), just as my mother did with the Magic Taxi Cab story.Taxis proliferate in my childhood pilgrimage. My mother writes in 1966 in her diary of journeying along the Pilgrims’ Way to St. Martha’s on the Hill. “Susie was moaning and groaning under her pack and at one desperate uphill moment gasped out, ‘Let’s take a taxi!’ – our highborn lady as we call her. But we finally made it.” “Martha’s”, as I later learned, is a corruption of “Martyrs”, a natural linguistic decay that developed over the medieval period. Just as the vernacular textures pilgrimage poems in the fourteeth century, the common tongue in all its glorious variety seeps into even the quotidian modern pilgrim’s journey.Part of the delight of pilgrimage lies in the characters one meets and the languages they speak. In 1994, the only time my husband and I cheated on a strictly ambulatory sacred journey occurred when we opted to ride a bus for ten miles where walking would have been dangerous. When I ask the bus driver if a stop were ours, he replied, “I'll give you a shout, love.” As though in a P. G. Wodehouse novel, when our stop finally came, he cried out, “Cheerio, love” to me and “Cheerio, mate” to Jim.Language changes. Which is a good thing. If it didn’t, it would be dead, like those martyrs of old. Like Latin itself. Disentangling pilgrimage from language proves impossible. The healthy ecopoetics of languages meshes with the sustainable vibrancy of the land we traverse.“Nettles of remorse…”: Derek Walcott, The Bounty Once my father had to carry me past a particularly tough patch of nettles. As my mother tells it, we “went through orchards and along narrow woodland path with face-high nettles. Susie put a scarf over her face and I wore a poncho though it was sunny and we survived almost unscathed.” Certain moments get preserved by the camera. At age seven in a field outside of Wye, I am captured in my father’s slides surrounded by grain. At age thirty-five, I am captured in film by my husband in the same spot, in the identical pose, though now quite a bit taller than the grain. Three years later, as a mother, I in turn snap him with a backpack containing baby Sarah, grumpily gazing off over the fields.When I was seven, we took off from Detling. My mother writes, “set off along old Pilgrims’ Way. Road is paved now, but much the same as fifteen years ago. Saw sheep, lambs, and enjoyed lovely scenery. Sudden shower sent us all to a lunch spot under trees near Thurnham Court, where we huddled under ponchos and ate happily, watching the weather move across the valley. When the sun came to us, we continued on our way which was lovely, past sheep, etc., but all on hard paved road, alas. Susie was a good little walker, but moaned from time to time.”I seem to whimper and groan a lot on pilgrimage. One thing is clear: the physical aspects of walking for days affected my phenomenological response to our pilgrimage which we’d undertaken both as historical ritual, touristic nature hike, and what Wendell Berry calls a “secular pilgrimage” (402), where the walker seeks “the world of the Creation” (403) in a “return to the wilderness in order to be restored” (416). The materiality of my experience was key to how I perceived this journey as a spiritual, somatic, and emotional event. The link between pilgrimage and memory, between pilgrimage poetics and memorial methods, occupies my thoughts on pilgrimage. As Nancy Easterlin’s work on “cognitive ecocriticism” (“Cognitive” 257) contends, environmental knowledge is intimately tied in with memory (“Cognitive” 260). She writes: “The advantage of extensive environmental knowledge most surely precipitates the evolution of memory, necessary to sustain vast knowledge” (“Cognitive” 260). Even today I can recall snatches of moments from that trip when I was a child, including the telling of tales.Landscape not only changes the writer, but writing transforms the landscape and our interaction with it. As Valerie Allen suggests, “If the subject acts upon the environment, so does the environment upon the subject” (“When Things Break” 82). Indeed, we can understand the “road as a strategic point of interaction between human and environment” (Allen and Evans 26; see also Oram)—even, or especially, when that interaction causes pain and inflames blisters. My relationship with moleskin on my blasted and blistered toes made me intimately conscious of my body with every step taken on the pilgrimage route.As an adult, my boots on the way from Winchester to Canterbury pinched and squeezed, packed dirt acting upon them and, in turn, my feet. After taking the train home and upon arrival in London, we walked through Bloomsbury to our flat on Russell Square, passing by what I saw as a new, less religious, but no less beckoning shrine: The London Foot Hospital at Fitzroy Square.Now, sadly, it is closed. Where do pilgrims go for sole—and soul—care?Slow Walking as WayfindingAll pilgrimages come to an end, just as, in 1966, my mother writes of our our arrival at last in Canterbury:On into Canterbury past nice grassy cricket field, where we sat and ate chocolate bars while we watched white-flannelled cricketers at play. Past town gates to our Queen’s Head Inn, where we have the smallest, slantingest room in the world. Everything is askew and we’re planning to use our extra pillows to brace our feet so we won’t slide out of bed. Children have nice big room with 3 beds and are busy playing store with pounds and shillings [that’s very hard mathematics!]. After dinner, walked over to cathedral, where evensong was just ending. Walked back to hotel and into bed where we are now.Up to early breakfast, dashed to cathedral and looked up, up, up. After our sins were forgiven, we picked up our rucksacks and headed into London by train.This experience in 1966 varies slightly from the one in 1994. Jim and I walk through a long walkway of tall, slim trees arching over us, a green, lush and silent cloister, finally gaining our first view of Canterbury with me in a similar photo to one taken almost thirty years before. We make our way into the city through the West Gate, first passing by St. Dunstan’s Church where Henry II had put on penitential garb and later Sir Thomas More’s head was buried. Canterbury is like Coney Island in the Middle Ages and still is: men with dreadlocks and slinky didjeridoos, fire tossers, mobs of people, tourists. We go to Mercery Lane as all good pilgrims should and under the gate festooned with the green statue of Christ, arriving just in time for evensong.Imagining a medieval woman arriving here and listening to the service, I pray to God my gratefulness for us having arrived safely. I can understand the fifteenth-century pilgrim, Margery Kempe, screaming emotionally—maybe her feet hurt like mine. I’m on the verge of tears during the ceremony: so glad to be here safe, finally got here, my favorite service, my beloved husband. After the service, we pass on through the Quire to the spot where St. Thomas’s relic sanctuary was. People stare at a lit candle commemorating it. Tears well up in my eyes.I suppose some things have changed since the Middle Ages. One Friday in Canterbury with my children in 2003 has some parallels with earlier iterations. Seven-year-old Sarah and I go to evensong at the Cathedral. I tell her she has to be absolutely quiet or the Archbishop will chop off her head.She still has her head.Though the road has been paved, the view has remained virtually unaltered. Some aspects seem eternal—sheep, lambs, and stiles dotting the landscape. The grinding down of the pilgrimage path, reflecting the “slowness of flat ontology” (Yates 207), occurs over vast expanses of time. Similarly, Easterlin reflects on human and more than human vitalism: “Although an understanding of humans as wayfinders suggests a complex and dynamic interest on the part of humans in the environment, the surround itself is complex and dynamic and is frequently in a state of change as the individual or group moves through it” (Easterlin “Cognitive” 261). An image of my mother in the 1970s by a shady tree along the Pilgrims’ Way in England shows that the path is lower by 6 inches than the neighboring verge (Bright 4). We don’t see dirt evolving, because its changes occur so slowly. Only big time allows us to see transformative change.Memorial PilgrimageOddly, the erasure of self through duplication with a precursor occurred for me while reading W.G. Sebald’s pilgrimage novel, The Rings of Saturn. I had experienced my own pilgrimage to many of these same locations he immortalizes. I, too, had gone to Somerleyton Hall with my elderly mother, husband, and two children. My memories, sacred shrines pooling in familial history, are infused with synchronic reflection, medieval to contemporary—my parents’ periodic sojourns in Suffolk for years, leading me to love the very landscape Sebald treks across; sadness at my parents’ decline; hope in my children’s coming to add on to their memory palimpsest a layer devoted to this land, to this history, to this family.Then, the oddest coincidence from my reading pilgrimage. After visiting Dunwich Heath, Sebald comes to his friend, Michael, whose wife Anne relays a story about a local man hired as a pallbearer by the local undertaker in Westleton. This man, whose memory was famously bad, nevertheless reveled in the few lines allotted him in an outdoor performance of King Lear. After her relating this story, Sebald asks for a taxi (Sebald 188-9).This might all seem unremarkable to the average reader. Yet, “human wayfinders are richly aware of and responsive to environment, meaning both physical places and living beings, often at a level below consciousness” (Easterlin “Cognitive” 265). For me, with a connection to this area, I startled with recollection emerging from my subconscience. The pallbearer’s name in Sebald’s story was Mr Squirrel, the very same name of the taxi driver my parents—and we—had driven with many times. The same Mr Squirrel? How many Mr Squirrels can there be in this small part of Suffolk? Surely it must be the same family, related in a genetic encoding of memory. I run to my archives. And there, in my mother’s address book—itself a palimpsest of time with names and addressed scored through; pasted-in cards, names, and numbers; and looseleaf memoranda—there, on the first page under “S”, “Mr. Squirrel” in my mother’s unmistakable scribble. She also had inscribed his phone number and the village Saxmundum, seven miles from Westleton. His name had been crossed out. Had he died? Retired? I don’t know. Yet quick look online tells me Squirrell’s Taxis still exists, as it does in my memory.Making KinAfter accompanying a class on a bucolic section of England’s Pilgrims’ Way, seven miles from Wye to Charing, we ended up at a pub drinking a pint, with which all good pilgrimages should conclude. There, students asked me why I became a medievalist who studies pilgrimage. Only after the publication of my first book on women pilgrims did I realize that the origin of my scholarly, long fascination with pilgrimage, blossoming into my professional career, began when I was seven years old along the way to Canterbury. The seeds of that pilgrimage when I was so young bore fruit and flowers decades later.One story illustrates Michel Serres’s point that we should not aim to appropriate the world, but merely act as temporary tenants (Serres 72-3). On pilgrimage in 1966 as a child, I had a penchant for ant spiders. That was not the only insect who took my heart. My mother shares how “Susie found a beetle up on the hill today and put him in the cheese box. Jimmy put holes in the top for him. She named him Alexander Beetle and really became very fond of him. After supper, we set him free in the garden here, with appropriate ceremony and a few over-dramatic tears of farewell.” He clearly made a great impression on me. I yearn for him today, that beetle in the cheese box. Though I tried to smuggle nature as contraband, I ultimately had to set him free.Passing through cities, landscape, forests, over seas and on roads, wandering by fields and vegetable patches, under a sky lit both by sun and moon, the pilgrim—even when in a group of fellow pilgrims—in her lonesome exercise endeavors to realize Serres’ ideal of the tenant inhabitant of earth. Nevertheless, we, as physical pilgrims, inevitably leave our traces through photos immortalizing the journey, trash left by the wayside, even excretions discretely deposited behind a convenient bush. Or a beetle who can tell the story of his adventure—or terror—at being ensconced for a time in a cheese box.On one notorious day of painful feet, my husband and I arrived in Otford, only to find the pub was still closed. Finally, it became time for dinner. We sat outside, me with feet ensconced in shoes blessedly inert and unmoving, as the server brought out our salads. The salad cream, white and viscous, was presented in an elegantly curved silver dish. Then Jim began to pick at the salad cream with his fork. Patiently, tenderly, he endeavored to assist a little bug who had gotten trapped in the gooey sauce. Every attempt seemed doomed to failure. The tiny creature kept falling back into the gloppy substance. Undaunted, Jim compassionately ministered to our companion. Finally, the little insect flew off, free to continue its own pilgrimage, which had intersected with ours in a tiny moment of affinity. Such moments of “making kin” work, according to Donna Haraway, as “life-saving strateg[ies] for the Anthropocene” (Oppermann 3, qtd. in Haraway 160).How can narrative avoid the anthropocentric centre of writing, which is inevitable given the human generator of such a piece? While words are a human invention, nonhuman entities vitally enact memory. The very Downs we walked along were created in the Cretaceous period at least seventy million years ago. The petrol propelling the magic taxi cab was distilled from organic bodies dating back millions of years. Jurassic limestone from the Bathonian Age almost two hundred million years ago constitutes the Caen stone quarried for building Canterbury Cathedral, while its Purbeck marble from Dorset dates from the Cretaceous period. Walking on pilgrimage propels me through a past millions—billions—of eons into the past, dwarfing my speck of existence. Yet, “if we wish to cross the darkness which separates us from [the past] we must lay down a little plank of words and step delicately over it” (Barfield 23). Elias Amidon asks us to consider how “the ground we dig into and walk upon is sacred. It is sacred because it makes us neighbors to each other, whether we like it or not. Tell this story” (Amidon 42). And, so, I have.We are winding down. Time has passed since that first pilgrimage of mine at seven years old. Yet now, here, I still put on my red plaid wollen jumper and jacket, crisp white button-up shirt, grey knee socks, and stout red walking shoes. Slinging on my rucksack, I take my mother’s hand.I’m ready to take my first step.We continue our pilgrimage, together.ReferencesAllen, Valerie. “When Things Break: Mending Rroads, Being Social.” Roadworks: Medieval Britain, Medieval Roads. Eds. Valerie Allen and Ruth Evans. Manchester: Manchester UP, 2016.———, and Ruth Evans. Introduction. Roadworks: Medieval Britain, Medieval Roads. Eds. Valerie Allen and Ruth Evans. Manchester: Manchester UP, 2016.Alworth, David J. Site Reading: Fiction, Art, Social Form. Princeton: Princeton UP, 2016.Amidon, Elias. “Digging In.” Dirt: A Love Story. Ed. Barbara Richardson. Lebanon, NH: ForeEdge, 2015.Barfield, Owen. History in English Words. Grand Rapids: William B. Eerdmans Publishing, 1967.Berry, Wendell. “A Secular Pilgrimage.” The Hudson Review 23.3 (1970): 401-424.Bright, Derek. “The Pilgrims’ Way Revisited: The Use of the North Downs Main Trackway and the Medway Crossings by Medieval Travelers.” Kent Archaeological Society eArticle (2010): 4-32.Craps, Stef, Rick Crownshaw, Jennifer Wenzel, Rosanne Kennedy, Claire Colebrook, and Vin Nardizzi. “Memory Studies and the Anthropocene: A Roundtable.” Memory Studies 11.4 (2017) 1-18.Easterlin, Nancy. A Biocultural Approach to Literary Theory and Interpretation. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins UP, 2012.———. “Cognitive Ecocriticism: Human Wayfinding, Sociality, and Literary Interpretation.” Introduction to Cognitive Studies. Ed. Lisa Zunshine. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins UP, 2010. 257-274.Haraway, Donna. “Anthropocene, Capitalocene, Plantationocene, Chthulucene: Making Kin.” Environmental Humanities 6 (2015): 159-65.James, Erin, and Eric Morel. “Ecocriticism and Narrative Theory: An Introduction.” English Studies 99.4 (2018): 355-365.Marcussen, Marlene. Reading for Space: An Encounter between Narratology and New Materialism in the Works of Virgina Woolf and Georges Perec. PhD diss. University of Southern Denmark, 2016.Oppermann, Serpil. “Introducing Migrant Ecologies in an (Un)Bordered World.” ISLE 24.2 (2017): 243–256.Oram, Richard. “Trackless, Impenetrable, and Underdeveloped? Roads, Colonization and Environmental Transformation in the Anglo-Scottish Border Zone, c. 1100 to c. 1300.” Roadworks: Medieval Britain, Medieval Roads. Eds. Valerie Allen and Ruth Evans. Manchester: Manchester UP, 2016.Rodriquez, David. “Narratorhood in the Anthropocene: Strange Stranger as Narrator-Figure in The Road and Here.” English Studies 99.4 (2018): 366-382.Savory, Elaine. “Toward a Caribbean Ecopoetics: Derek Walcott’s Language of Plants.” Postcolonial Ecologies: Literatures of the Environment. Eds. Elizabeth DeLoughrey and George B. Handley. Oxford: Oxford UP, 2011. 80-96.Sebald, W.G. The Rings of Saturn. Trans. Michael Hulse. New York: New Directions, 1998.Serres, Michel. Malfeasance: Appropriating through Pollution? Trans. Anne-Marie Feenberg-Dibon. Stanford: Stanford UP, 2011.Walcott, Derek. Selected Poems. Ed. Edward Baugh. New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 1997. 3-16.Yates, Julian. “Sheep Tracks—A Multi-Species Impression.” Animal, Vegetable, Mineral: Ethics and Objects. Ed. Jeffrey Jerome Cohen. Washington, D.C.: Oliphaunt Books, 2012.

My father killed the boar when he was 16. He’d dreamed of killing the boar for some time. My father’s brother had killed a boar when he was only fifteen. My father’s brother was five years older than him. Like most big brothers, he treated his little brother with intolerant contempt. He’d been saying for months that my father would never kill a boar. He was too weak. He was a girl. He was useless. And, just the day before, he told him he was so worthless he better finish the fence on the bottom paddock before dusk or he could expect a kicking. The family farm was gradually being cleared from the bush and the fencing slow and arduous. My father finished the fence. My father was very good with his hands and in truth a much better fencer than his brother, which didn’t help matters between them. That night my father didn’t go to sleep in the room he shared with his brother. Instead he went out into the bush past the bottom paddock, where the boars roamed, his rifle strapped over his shoulder and a knife in his ankle scabbard. The cleared ground was rough and uneven, a broken landscape created by the eruptions and outpourings of the volcanoes Ruapehu, Ngauruhoe and Tongariro. In the bush, the terrain was even rougher, jagged rises and deep gullies, all ripe with the verdant vegetation flourishing on the rich volcanic soil. My father found himself a niche in a cliff on the edge of the bush above a small clearing near the creek. He huddled there in his woollen coat and dungarees and waited. He’d brought the dogs with him and they drove the boar out of the bush and into the clearing among the tree ferns just before dawn. By then my father was hunched on a rock, out of the way. The dogs worried the boar. They grabbed its tail, snapped at its balls, sank their teeth into its legs. The boar fought back. It lashed at them with its tusks. It caught one and tossed it into a tree fern, the dog yelping from the pain of its ripped rib cage. The boar roared, stomping and rooting. The dogs continued to circle. My father had waited all night in the cold, his rifle loaded and the safety catch off. My father was a very good shot. Better than his brother. That was why his parents had splurged on his birthday gift and bought him a .303 rifle. His brother had a .22, but he couldn’t shoot pigeons or ducks. My father, though, could use his brother’s gun to bring down a brace of ducks. Another reason his brother treated him like a piece of dirt. But out in the bush he couldn’t shoot the boar for fear of killing one of the dogs. He slipped the catch on and laid the gun down beside him. He took a knife from the scabbard on his belt. He waited until the boar was facing away from him, dogs in front and behind it. He jumped from the rock, and kicked the boar’s right hind leg out. The boar went down. My father threw himself on its back and plunged the knife in between the shoulders. Deep, to cut the spine and throat. The boar squealed, thrashed and subsided. My father thrust himself upright, knife still in blood-soaked hand, and stood away from the boar. The boar rolled over, the dogs still nipping at it. My father used the knife again, slashing deep across the boar’s throat. It screamed and lunged at him with head and tusks. He leapt away, falling over one of the dogs. The boar didn’t die straight away. It thrashed about on the ground, snorting and sighing at first, then whimpering as blood gushed out, steamed on the cold ground and coagulated in the crushed ferns. Eventually it was just panting, and slowly at that. Finally it was dead. My father shooed the dogs away. He cut off the boar’s balls and pizzle and tossed them to the dogs. He slit the boar from arse to belly and began the process of removing its warm innards, first working with the bladder to attempt to keep its contents from having too much contact with his game. His hands reached right inside to disentangle the intestines. His shirt and jacket were soaked with its blood. His hands were greasy with blood and shit. He washed himself as best as he could in the freezing water of the creek. He manoeuvred the boar so that it was half sitting on the ground then he lowered himself down and backed between the boar’s front legs, his head under its chin. Taking the weight of the beast on his shoulders, he slowly stood and began to trudge out of the bush and through the rough paddocks towards his family home on the top of the rise. The dogs kept him company for a bit, but the lure of home was too much for them and they took off up the hill in a barking frenzy. All except the one that had been tossed by the boar. It slunk at his heels, blood on its flank where the tusk had ripped through. His father and brother were waiting for him on the veranda. His brother glared and yelled at him because he had missed the morning milking of the cows, but his father told him to take the boar to the meat shack. This was behind the house. It was a rough weatherboard structure on the cool, south-side. It was secure against dogs and vermin and big enough to hang several carcases. A sheep and legs of ham were already there. The shack had a smooth stone floor with drainage channels grooved into it. My father laid the boar on the floor of the shack. He cut the hock of each hind leg just behind the tendon to make a space for the gambrel hook. He inserted the hook then used the hoist in the shack to raise the boar up to the rail that ran down the centre of the room and from which the meat hung. My father then began to skin the boar, stripping back the black bristled outer flesh as much as possible in one piece. Once it was scrubbed of the bristles and tanned, the skin would be soft and supple, suitable for a purse or for covering a saddle. He washed the carcass. Later, when the day’s farm work was over, the whole family would work on preparing and preserving the boar. His mother had already fired up the copper to boil water for the cleaning and salting. Lastly, he sawed off the boar’s head. He placed it on the butcher’s block in the shack and worked at the tusks. On this big beast the tusks were almost five inches long, curved and very sharp. They were much larger than the tusks from his brother’s boar. Once he had the tusks out of the boar’s mouth, he stripped of all but his underpants and washed himself as best as he could at the tap of the water tank at the back of the house. The water was icy and there was a stiff breeze from the snow on the mountains. It was still winter. But my father hardly noticed. He was still warm from the blood of the boar and the sight of his brother’s face when he had seen the size of it. Two months later, he took the tusks into the town of Taumaranui. He sought advice from the jeweller in the main street, who had made a speciality of working with tusks. The jeweller was known all over the King Country. The jeweller talked about how the tusks might be mounted. He suggested a band of gold, edges engraved with delicate leaves, to join the tusks base to base, so that the points formed a semicircle. Just below the points, he suggested two gold bands joined with a delicate gold chain, from which the tusks could be hung. And that is what my father agreed to. The jeweller took one month then my father claimed his tusks and took them home to mount on his bedroom wall, where his brother was forced to see them every day. My father signed up for the Air Force when he was 18. He wanted to fly away from his brother and the cows and the fencing and digging the rocks out of the paddock and that is exactly what he did. He learned to fly, something he’d dreamed of doing, same as he had dreamed of killing a boar. My father was a great dreamer. He left the tusks at home with his mother. She took them out of the bedroom them and placed them on the wall of the family room to remind her of him. His brother would turn them back to front. My father sent home photographs of himself: one from Cairo with him in tropical gear, sparkling eyes and a jaunty smile under his new moustache; another from Waddingham in his Sergeant pilot’s uniform standing with his crew in front of their Lancaster as it is loaded with bombs; a last one from an unknown place but he is wearing his Flying Officer’s uniform for he had been promoted and there are ribbons on his chest, too, but his eyes do not shine and he does not smile. As they arrived from the other side of the world in the slow mail his mother placed these photographs on the sideboard in the family room under my father’s tusks. In a mood after the Sunday roast his brother would turn them face down, saying my father wouldn’t be coming back so why did he have to be reminded of him. But he did come back, which even his brother had to acknowledge. He was 23. He was a shell of the boy who had killed the boar. He had been gutted by the war, though he showed no outward signs of the mutilation. It was all within, deep within, embedded in him like tusks in the jaw of a boar. My father began studying to be a veterinarian when he was 25. As part of his repatriation package, he was paid to study at the University of Sydney. He took the tusks down from his mother’s wall and packed them into one of the suitcases he and my mother took with them on the flying boat to Sydney. The tusks hung on the wall of the semi in Enmore they lived in for the five years he studied. Then after he had graduated they went back across the Tasman and my father began his work with animals. The animals received his ministrations with passive indifference and helped resolve the horror in his head, an unremitting memory of the perilous flights under attack across black skies and terrain, the fires unleashed by the phosphorous bombs released from his plane’s bomb bay let alone the destruction from other ordnance, the morning briefings after what was left of the squadron had returned and he learned which of his mates was no longer. He drank a bit. Maybe too much, but nobody ever sat down with him and talk about what he had been through. He had some medals and his old flying jacket and it was expected that he just get on with life. Which he did, overall. Once my parents were back in New Zealand, he set up practice in Waikato, with dairy cattle his most frequent patients. The Waikato district lies to the north of the King Country where my father had killed the boar. His family were not so far away, but he didn’t visit them that often. His brother was running things down there. His brother held vets in contempt and made that clear on the rare occasions my father did visit. Then his father, my grandfather, died. The farm went to his older brother as was the custom of those times. His widowed mother moved up to Auckland, so my father had no reason to visit the farm or his brother any more. Maybe it was only a matter of moving away from his brother but he lost and found himself in Australia. Maybe it was also the fact that a few years after he had made the move, the phone rang one night and he found he was talking to his brother’s wife. His brother had shot himself down in the bottom paddock that morning. It seems my father’s brother was never a very good farmer. From that time on my father mellowed, relaxed and began to enjoy himself. The tusks, though, were always on his bedside table, reminding him of that night he spent out in the bush and killed the boar. My father died three weeks before he was to turn 80. His death was long and painful to those of us who had to watch it, though for him it was ameliorated by painkillers and palliative care given him. It was my job to arrange the details of his funeral. Since his death was no surprise, all of his family, his three sons and his two daughters, grandsons and grand-daughters and his great grand children as well, had already gathered to say goodbye to him. But everybody was now under pressure to get back to jobs and other commitments. I spoke to the undertakers. They arranged the funeral the day following my father’s death in their own chapel. My mother wanted an open casket so my father had to be dressed in his best clothes. My mother and I selected the clothes and I took them to the undertakers. The next morning, before the ceremony, the undertakers called me and asked me to come to their rooms behind the chapel. They asked me to check that my father looked as much as we wanted him to look. He lay in the coffin, only his head and hands showing, the rest of him expertly trussed and dressed for this last display. His hair was neatly brushed and there was a bristle or two of whiskers on his cheek and chin. His eyes were closed and the skin on his face waxy, but cold from wherever he had been stored. I kissed him on his forehead. Then I placed the tusks on his chest, just under his neck and over the tie and jacket my mother had decided he should wear. My father was ready. I drove my mother down to the chapel just before 2 pm. She and I were the last people to be seated. We were both to sit in the front row. She walked straight up the aisle past the other mourners to my father’s coffin and she stood there for a moment looking at her husband of nearly sixty years. She stretched out her arm and stroked the tusks on his chest. Then she turned and I reached out and guided her to her seat. “He’ll like having them,” she whispered to me. Then we sang “There’s a hole in the bucket”. My father always liked that song. The crematorium was miles away. My father travelled there alone. Just as he had faced the boar. References De Hek, Danny. “Hunting regions—King Country: The home of wild pig hunting in New Zealand.” New Zealand’s Information Network 16 Aug. 2010 . Dick, Tim. “The boar wars.” WAtoday.com.au 13 Nov. 2008. 16 Aug. 2010 . Rushmer, Miles. “Bush surfing: That’s a New Zealand pig hunt.” ESPN Outdoors 28 Apr. 2005. 16 Aug. 2010 . Walrond, Carl. “Pig hunting.” Te Ara: The Encyclopaedia of New Zealand 1 Mar. 2009. 16 Aug. 2010 .