My trip to Roundrock last weekend was an overnight, so that meant a fire. I think I could count on one hand the number of fires I’ve had on trips that were not overnights (mostly when we had guests out who wanted to make foil dinners and roast marshmallows, I think). I’m reluctant to have a fire, put it out, and then leave; I always fear the fire isn’t fully out and that it will flare up in my absence. Better to give it an overnight (when I’m sleeping?) to ensure it is fully out before I leave.
I spoke before about the great, great quantity of strike-anywhere matches I have, as well as my snail’s pace at using them. My pride in building one-match fires does not help with their use. If I built a one-match fire every day for a year, I would use only one-sixth of the matches I currently have. Since I don’t smoke ceegars anymore (#runnerproblems) I don’t use the matches for those either. So I suppose I should make sure the dispensation of the matches is listed in my will.
Anyway, the fire was a success, and I was able to cook my dinner over it:
It wasn’t very tasty, to tell the truth, but Flike didn’t object when I shared it with him. Then a few hours of musing before the coals as the night sounds wrapped around me. I heard the frogs, of course, as well as many barred owls all over the Central Valley, and even some yipping coyotes. It was only when I rose in the middle of the night that I heard a whippoorwill.