[pct-l] SVEA-123 Adventures

[CHUCK CHELIN]

Good morning,

Regular users of the SVEA-123 are correct when they responded that under
average conditions the stove really isn’t all that difficult to start,
however my situation was a bit different:  I didn’t use it under average
conditions.  In the late-50’s and through the 60’s I mostly used a tiny
campfire to heat food in a modified, traditional Sierra Cup – by modified I
mean the wire handle had been re-bent to allow the end of a stick to be
inserted for security over a fire.  The fire was seldom fed with sticks
larger than a pencil.  That worked well except that during three of the
four seasons here in the Pacific NW -- autumn rain, winter snow, and spring
rain -- the little sticks are wet.

That’s when I got the SVEA-123.  When conditions were right it started OK,
but there was none of this modern-day turn-the-knob and touch-a-match
business.   It was first necessary to put some fuel in the little recessed
channel at the top of the tank which, when lit, would simultaneously heat
the tank so fuel would be slightly pressurized and available to the valve,
plus it would get the burner hot enough to vaporize the gas when the valve
was opened.  Simple…sort of.

One problem was, it was difficult to pour the correct amount of fuel into
the little recess.  Too little fuel wouldn’t hack it, and too much would
run out and all around the tank so it was necessary to wait for it to
evaporate before lighting, else there would be a nice fireball.

Some people carried a separate little squeeze bottle of fuel which was OK,
but it was just one more thing to fuss with, and there was a risk having it
leak all over the pack.

A more typical plan was to warm the stove tank with the hands, thereby
creating just enough pressure inside to blow a small amount of fuel out of
the valve when it is cracked slightly open; fuel which then ran down the
stem to fill the little recess.  When the recess was full the valve was
closed for lighting.  In theory that works OK, except for two things:  When
the stove was shut off the evening before the tank was sealed.  The next
morning when the tank was very cold a small vacuum had probably been
created inside, and my hands couldn’t provide enough heat to overcome it
unless I first remembered to briefly open the valve to “let the vacuum out”
before closing it again for hand-heating.  If I didn’t do all that in the
correct order, and usually even if I did, the tank wouldn’t blow like it
was supposed to, it sucked -- both literally and figuratively.

In the cold conditions when I used the stove I didn’t want to fiddle around
seemingly-forever trying to get the stove started, and my hands got cold
faster than the stove got warm so when the valve was opened nothing
happened.

The next step was to find some greater source of body heat for the tank
but, believe me boys and girls, on a frosty morning I didn’t really like
having to spend several minutes crotch-cuddling a 1-pound chunk of ice-cold
brass.

One solution was to retrofit the stove with a little pump by changing to a
tank cap that had a check valve to accept the pump.  Problem solved ---
maybe:  Push on the pump, give it a few strokes to increase the tank
pressure, crack open the valve, and then watch as fuel is quickly blown out
to enclose the outside of the tank and soak my glove.  It worked
eventually, but I had to remember to remove the pump adapter cap after the
stove was shut off, and replace it with the standard cap – assuming I
didn’t forget to bring it – because the check valve was notorious for
leaking fuel into my pack.

None of that addresses the regular need to field-strip the stove to find
plugged orifices or leaky o-rings.  Oops, I didn’t really drop that tiny
o-ring in the gravel, did I?

The solution for all of those problems was to retire the SVEA-123 to the
back of the gear locker and begin using solid fuel in bad weather in just
the same way I used a little wood fire in good weather.

All of this eventually lead to the current method of not jacking-around
with a stove at all, but eating cold chow instead.

Quite often the “good old days”, weren’t.

Steel-Eye

-Hiking the Pct since before it was the PCT – 1965

http://www.trailjournals.com/steel-eye
http://www.trailjournals.com/SteelEye09/