[pct-l] Hiking the PCT in the 60's

[Deems]

Kudos to Steeleye for a view into the past that is as fresh as the present. 
Knowing how to start a fire, anytime, anywhere, is a basic survival skill, 
period. I have been on a quest to camp on all the full moons for two years 
now as a personal reward. Shoulda started sooner!  In the winter, I need a 
fire, in my NorCal wet rain/snow conditions, and have created my own fire 
starter that has worked everytime. I soak a cotton sock piece in crisco 
grease and then wrap it in wax paper, making as many as needed per trip. I 
carry a Campmor catalog with me, and I've been able to start a fire in some 
of the wettest NorCal winter conditions.  Three decades ago I was deep into 
the Mtn Man 1840s rendezvous gatherings; flintlocks, tomahawks, 
blackpowder, buckskins, teepees, watch your topknot, and I learned how to 
start a fire or light a pipe with flint and steel any time I needed. 
Somewhere way back in the early '70s, I earned Eagle and lived two 
incredible summers as a Philmont Ranger.
^^^
I'll keep my eye open for Bradford Angier's "Home in your Pack "book, he 
certainly would be welcomed into any hiker gathering today, tho he passed on 
in the late '90s.  Thanks for sharing your memories with us on a rainy 
Pacific NW day.
~~~~~~~~
Your comments got me all fired-up.

My first camping season as an 11-year-old Boy Scout was almost totally
focused on building a fire and cooking a meal.  My Scoutmaster insisted that
we all establish these basics.  Then, my only interest was to get a fire up
and going fast, however I could.

Later, as an Explorer Scout, I fell in with a group of guys who really
caused me to establish my ultralite basics: We challenged each other to do
things quicker, better, more simply, and with fewer resources. 
Fire-building
was a big part of that.  As a little Scout the challenge had been to build a
fire using no more than two common stick matches.  At age 11 that was an
impossible dream, but soon it became standard practice so additional
challenges evolved.

The next step was to use only 100% natural fire-making material found
on-site.  After that, the two-match allowance was reduced to one.  Next, we
limited ourselves to one little paper book-match; and we know how pitiful
they are.  Finally, a few fanatics - I hate to name names - would tear out
one book match, and using a knife point or fingernail on the bottom end,
would separate the paper match stem up its center and pull one half of the
match away from the other.  Usually half the chemical head stays with each
half-match.  Those half-matches were really frail and pitiful, and could
only be lit by keeping ones finger directly on the head when striking.  To
be successful, one had better have perfect tinder, perfect kindling, and
perfect shelter for the tiny flame that resulted.  Well done, there would be
40 campfires from one matchbook.

Next came an insidious game called, "Here and Now", where one's companion
would wait till just the right time and place to declare, "We need a fire -
here and now!"  That was much the same challenge as, "I double-dog dare
'ya.".  The victim then had to build a fire at that place with only
available materials.  Failure to do so -- or worse, a refusal to even try --
was rewarded with loud and sustained hoots of derision.  You can probably
guess that "the right time and place" always meant "under the worst possible
conditions."

I even imposed that same game on myself when hiking alone:  I would set an
alarm an hour or so ahead, vowing to stop instantly when it went off and
build a fire at that exact spot.  Through some places I remember saying to
myself, "Oh, pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease don't go off here!"  I did fudge
once, though:  The alarm went off when I was right in the middle of fording
a creek.

Eventually I gave up on matches and lighters entirely, and became
accomplished with flint and steel and with friction from a bow drill fire
starter.  The bow drill was usually pretty slow, but with flint and steel if
I didn't have open flame within 20 seconds I was well off the pace.

Even today, at home before a hike, I occasionally re-read Jack London's
short-story: *To Build A Fire* at http://www.jacklondons.net/buildafire.html
 Since I was a teenager the recollection of that tale has haunted me
whenever I build a fire, regardless of how favorable the circumstances.