My first tack ball looked like a hand grenade. The silver, dimpled headed, razor sharp tacks were pressed into a Hunter green rubber ball. This hung on a leather thong tied to my plumb bob holster. These items hung from my belt. A bundle of chaining pins poked out from behind my back, held in place between my belt and trousers. The pins pictured are sold by Forestry Suppliers of NC.
I wore a pouch on a separate belt that contained my field book, pencils, cigarettes, lighter, toilet paper, a roll of flagging, magic marker, yellow lumber crayon, and small ruler. There would be at least one canteen on that separate belt.
If I needed my surveyor’s vest, I could carry cans of potted meat, crackers, extra field book, magnifying glass, mirror, band-aids, bandana, and more toilet paper. Then there was the surveyor’s bag. A canvas gym bag was filled with 18 inch long wooden stakes (as many as it could hold), a few 18 inch long - ½ inch rebar, a four pound sledge hammer, extra rolls of flagging, a few extra magic markers, and whatever the crewman felt he might need, including lunch, water and extra toilet paper. What can I say, bears and surveyors go in the woods.
I’d put on my hat, hoist the tripod (with instrument) on my shoulder, grab Zeke (my bush axe) and head toward the last surveyor marker. I’d be followed by the rodman that carried the big bag of expendables, two range poles, chain, his own bush axe, donning similar attire as mine. Into the woods we would tromp.
We’d emerge later in the afternoon when we reached a “stopping point”. The exit timing was usually a mutual agreement of exhaustion. Between going to and coming home from the job site, there would be surveying. Hard work with good times, mostly.
Rest well adventurers