Men are all boys at heart, and boys love toys. Or, so
we’re told. Personally, I have to admit I do. Lately, one of my sons and I have
been talking about camping gear. We both love to camp, and did some together
this fall. We also both love cooking, and that includes cooking over a
campfire. Of course, there are times when that is impossible or impractical.
That’s when a stove becomes essential. Naturally, some of the gear we’ve been
talking about involves cooking. My son just bought a new backpacking stove. To
be honest, I guess I’m jealous, but I’m not ready to follow suit just yet. I
have been having fun talking with him about his acquisition and giving some
thought to what I think would have to go into the ideal stove for me.
My son’s stove burns twigs. If there is no wood source
available, the alternative is an alcohol burner. This outfit reflects a current
interest in stoves that do not require fossil fuels—little canisters of butane
that are partly full—but no one knows just how full—or canisters of white gas.
Our discussion brought back memories for both of us of when my sons were much
younger. I had an alcohol stove then. The popular interest at the time was in
miniature stoves operating on white gas. I ended up with one of those too. I
later acquired one that used propane, and seemed to answer everything—it was
quick to put into operation, worked reliably, produced a hot flame, and was
light to carry. Of course, I did feel I had to carry an extra canister of fuel
because I didn’t know how much burn time I would get off the one I was using.
My son’s memories included another approach altogether.
He talked about the coffee can stoves I introduced them to as a reasonably safe
means of doing some backyard camping and cooking. The design was inspired by
something I understood to have been a standard with the Girl Scouts. Basically,
it involved a coffee can with an opening at the bottom to put in the twigs and
holes at the top to let out smoke. A pan could be set on the top for cooking.
Actually, it worked pretty well. That’s the way my son remembers his experience
as well.
Of course, things evolve. The stove my son just bought is
a very high-tech updating of the coffee can stove design. It does not have the
hole in the bottom—you put twigs in from the top—and, the burn design is
technically improved. Basically, it relies on a double-walled canister design
that uses a twig fire, but draws the smoke up for a second burn cycle. It’s
highly efficient, and works very well to produce an impressive amount of heat
from a handful of dry twigs.
Other than being high-tech and new, what’s the
attraction? Well, for me, camp cooking has to do with the challenge of seeing
what you can accomplish with a minimum of modern kitchen equipment and
convenience. Making an apple pie in a small pan over a bed of hot coals is
hugely rewarding. Sometimes a stove is necessary (fires may not be allowed) and
sometimes it’s simply convenient enough to warrant its use. Some campers want
to visit the wild without leaving any more trace of their having been there
than can be avoided. A small stove leaves no half-burned sticks, scorched
ground or ashes. The stove my son bought seems a reasonable compromise. It uses
twigs, not logs, and it’s fast and efficient.
In addition to the need for carrying fuel, I have
complained that camping stoves, especially small ones, produce a very hot flame
over a very small area, and seem primarily suited to cooking soup or making
tea. Will my son’s new stove work better for cooking other things? That’s the twenty-four-thousand
dollar question. It looks as though it might. I’ll be even more interested in
getting one myself if it does. After all, it’s very hard to meet the outdoor
cooking challenge if all you can readily do is boil water. Love to hear what
others have to say about camp cooking stoves. Thank you for visiting my blog.
My son’s stove burns twigs. If there is no wood source
available, the alternative is an alcohol burner. This outfit reflects a current
interest in stoves that do not require fossil fuels—little canisters of butane
that are partly full—but no one knows just how full—or canisters of white gas.
Our discussion brought back memories for both of us of when my sons were much
younger. I had an alcohol stove then. The popular interest at the time was in
miniature stoves operating on white gas. I ended up with one of those too. I
later acquired one that used propane, and seemed to answer everything—it was
quick to put into operation, worked reliably, produced a hot flame, and was
light to carry. Of course, I did feel I had to carry an extra canister of fuel
because I didn’t know how much burn time I would get off the one I was using.
My son’s memories included another approach altogether.
He talked about the coffee can stoves I introduced them to as a reasonably safe
means of doing some backyard camping and cooking. The design was inspired by
something I understood to have been a standard with the Girl Scouts. Basically,
it involved a coffee can with an opening at the bottom to put in the twigs and
holes at the top to let out smoke. A pan could be set on the top for cooking.
Actually, it worked pretty well. That’s the way my son remembers his experience
as well.
Of course, things evolve. The stove my son just bought is
a very high-tech updating of the coffee can stove design. It does not have the
hole in the bottom—you put twigs in from the top—and, the burn design is
technically improved. Basically, it relies on a double-walled canister design
that uses a twig fire, but draws the smoke up for a second burn cycle. It’s
highly efficient, and works very well to produce an impressive amount of heat
from a handful of dry twigs.
Other than being high-tech and new, what’s the
attraction? Well, for me, camp cooking has to do with the challenge of seeing
what you can accomplish with a minimum of modern kitchen equipment and
convenience. Making an apple pie in a small pan over a bed of hot coals is
hugely rewarding. Sometimes a stove is necessary (fires may not be allowed) and
sometimes it’s simply convenient enough to warrant its use. Some campers want
to visit the wild without leaving any more trace of their having been there
than can be avoided. A small stove leaves no half-burned sticks, scorched
ground or ashes. The stove my son bought seems a reasonable compromise. It uses
twigs, not logs, and it’s fast and efficient.
In addition to the need for carrying fuel, I have
complained that camping stoves, especially small ones, produce a very hot flame
over a very small area, and seem primarily suited to cooking soup or making
tea. Will my son’s new stove work better for cooking other things? That’s the twenty-four-thousand
dollar question. It looks as though it might. I’ll be even more interested in
getting one myself if it does. After all, it’s very hard to meet the outdoor
cooking challenge if all you can readily do is boil water. Love to hear what
others have to say about camp cooking stoves. Thank you for visiting my blog.
