Today I went for a short hike in the woods. To get some fresh air and a new appetite and to make fire. It had rained continously for the last twelve hours, but fortunately there was only some drizzle left.
I took with me a Firesteel, charcloth and some dried bark. At a convenient sheltered spot I decided to give it a go:
The wet leaves were removed from the ground and dry twigs (picked from the de lower and dead branches of some conifers nearby) placed on the ground tp protect against the moisture.
Charcloth was put on a piece of dry bark and with the firesteel I was succesful in creating some ember.
But I didnt manage to transfer it to the collected wood or bark or develop a flame. No matter what, I only suceeded in producing a lot of smoke.
Only by adding some morsels of paraffined sawdust I was able to produce a
flame. But I couldnt keep it alive and everything was again reduced to a smouldering heap. After 1.5h I admitted defeat and walked back...
But there is was one thing I will distinctively remember. When for that first time the ember transformed in a flame whoose warmth I felt in my face my spirits raised and I had a somewhat archaic sense of joy. Making fire is such an elemantary task, it touched me deep down and makes me want to try it again.
I took with me a Firesteel, charcloth and some dried bark. At a convenient sheltered spot I decided to give it a go:
The wet leaves were removed from the ground and dry twigs (picked from the de lower and dead branches of some conifers nearby) placed on the ground tp protect against the moisture.
Charcloth was put on a piece of dry bark and with the firesteel I was succesful in creating some ember.
But I didnt manage to transfer it to the collected wood or bark or develop a flame. No matter what, I only suceeded in producing a lot of smoke.
Only by adding some morsels of paraffined sawdust I was able to produce a
flame. But I couldnt keep it alive and everything was again reduced to a smouldering heap. After 1.5h I admitted defeat and walked back...
But there is was one thing I will distinctively remember. When for that first time the ember transformed in a flame whoose warmth I felt in my face my spirits raised and I had a somewhat archaic sense of joy. Making fire is such an elemantary task, it touched me deep down and makes me want to try it again.