Campfires

1.

Even though it was in the mid to upper 90s, compared to Central Texas it seemed plenty cool. And I had packed two boxes of kindling and sticks that I've been collecting for years. (You can usually buy logs from the park hosts, but kindling is gold!*) So of course on the first night we had a campfire.

I crumpled some newspaper that is a standard part of our camping gear. I made a teepee of twigs and sticks from my stash. And I added logs that we also brought just for this purpose. (Why pay the park host when you've got a pile in the backyard?) Once I lit the match, we had a roaring fire in seconds. And not too long after that, Trudy and Ben were roasting marshmallows over glowing embers.

2.

On the second night, the kindling was dry in spite of the rains, but the remaining logs were covered in moss and lichens that had soaked up a lot of water. And although the kindling teepee quickly came ablaze again, the wood just wouldn't catch — until, that is, I pulled the electric fan out of the tent and aimed it at the fire. The smoldering logs began to glow and smoke, and sure enough after a few minutes they were burning on their own.

But imagine the picture: three campers huddled around a campfire next to an electric fan hooked by a long orange extension chord to a power box on top of the hill. Hardly roughing it, eh? Yes, that's the kind of campers we are. But we had a campfire again. And that counts for something.

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*I am indeed my grandmother's grandson

Buffalo Point Campground, Buffalo National River

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