On a recent backcountry weekend with some good friends, I volunteered for campfire and fireplace duty. I nearly always volunteer for fire-duty because there's 3 things I know about: 1. Fire 2. Firearms and 3......let's see, 3........? Ok, there's 2 things I know about....
Anyway, as the campfire developed some of the lads (actually all the lads) expressed skepticism regarding the quantity of wood we were tossing on the fire. Understandable if you're used to paying 8 or 10 bucks for a small bundle of wood at places like White Oak Station, Whole Foods or Spanky's Quick-Mart. But when you're surrounded by an essentially endless and renewable supply of firewood, it only makes sense to take full advantage of the situation.
Once the base of dry cedar flamed up in the middle of the pit, assisted by Paul's spray bottle of diesel fuel, we started throwing chunks of recently harvested white oak followed by some very nice walnut slabs from Paul's bottomland dead-tree farm. In no time at all we had what was later determined to be an epic river-side campfire fit for the likes of folks like Jeremiah Johnson, Hatchet Jack and Jedidiah Smith.
As the night wore on and the wind died down we ended up with one of the most intense and entertaining campfires I've seen in quite some time. There's something mesmerizing about a good campfire. Kind of like lounging by the ocean and watching as an endless line-up of waves breaks over the shoreline. Campfire flames are similar to ocean waves in that each one is unique and different; kind of like snow flakes and buttholes. Wait a minute, wait a minute: did I just write that. Dad-burn that auto-correct! I meant to write bunt cakes. Oh well...
As you plan your next campfire remember this: there's a difference between making a campfire and building one. For my taste I prefer to go the building route. In the campfire arena you simply "cain't go no better".
As always, I'll do my best to keep you posted on all important things pertaining to rural life, campfires and stuff like that.
