Camp Stoves

Approaching the checkout counter at the supermarket today, I realized suddenly that every item in my cart had a bar code. That's a rare event, but there's a simple explanation: we're going camping in the BWCA soon. Thus, my cart was full of things like M&Ms, raisins, spice drops, dried soup mix, powdered milk, freeze-dried peanuts, Quaker Oats Old-Fashioned granola, and a huge resealable bag of Asian hot-pepper cracker snacks. Non-perishables, I think they're called.  No meat, no produce.

Man, it's going to be fun.

I also stopped at Hoigaard's to pick up a new butane fuel canister,  and it got me to thinking about camp-stove technology. I'd like to announce that a revolution has taken place in that field, but if so, it has passed me by. All the stoves I've owned have been the same. Fuel spurts out, gets lit, and burns.

The oldest stove we have I never used. It looks like a glorified cigarette case, though in its day I'll bet it was the coveted possession of a small and privileged group of elite Alpine  trekkers.

The first stove we actually bought wasn't bad, except for the fact that the fuel canisters were only good for about one and a half meals. Before long, this unit vanished from the market. Maybe I bought the last one. (I still have it!)

For a while we tried to get excited about the Whisper-Light from Mountain Science Research. Ever popular with backpackers, this stove has the advantage of functioning with a wide variety of liquid fuels. This can be handy when you're in the habit of flying into places like Albuquerque and Reno, bringing your camping gear with.  They don't like pressurized fuel canisters on airplanes, for some reason, and it's a drag hunting down a sporting goods store to buy some fuel before heading off into the desert. Finding fuel for this little number is easier. Trouble is, it's the kind of stove you have to prime first, letting a trickle of fuel dribble into the pan and then lighting it with a   match. That's a real bother.

We thought we had a winner with the MSR Super-fly, a unit no bigger than my fist that could be threaded onto a butane canister. The problem with that one was that the collar holding the stove in place above the threads often popped over the bead, breaking  the connection to the fuel. When the stove did hold its position, the connection was so tenuous that the cooking pot teetered back and forth above the flame, threatening at any moment to crash off the burner into the dirt. (You can see it leaning in the photo below)

A few years ago I went to REI to see about fixing my Super-fly, and the salesman said, "Oh, you have one of those? They're horrible. Why not get the newer version with tight threads and no need for a collar?" Good idea.

I love my new Super-fly. It's sturdier, heats things faster,  and uses less fuel.

Yet for car camping, the one-burner Coleman stove remains Old Reliable. Too big for a canoe trip, but you can get the fuel canisters at any hardware store, cheap. I think they're make out of cast iron.

***

There was a time when traveling in the BWCA involved a route. Nowadays, for us, it merely involves a lake. You go in, you camp for a few days, and then you come back out. Sometimes the biggest issue isn't even which lake, but which aspect. Do you want to be on the east or the west shore? In the midst of islands or staring across an expanse?

Though they don't mention it in the Boy Scout manual, perhaps the most crucial issue is which books to bring. They have to be small, light, and wide-ranging in subject matter. Here's what I've got lined up for the upcoming trip: A Book of English Essays for good-natured  browsing; Little Misunderstandings of No Importance by Antonio Tabucchi for fiction; The Rig Veda for poetry; and a weather-beaten copy of Ernst Cassirer's An Essay on Man to stimulate thought. You can open that book to any page and hit upon a singular judgment to ponder while you watch the water-beetles scurry by.

Shall I put that theory to the test? OK. On page 112 Cassirer writes: "Parmenides declared that we cannot separate being and thought, for they are one and the same."

That is a very stupid notion. It's easy to separate being and thought ... Or is it? Well, thought requires differentiation. Otherwise, there wouldn't be anything to think about. But you can think about history, which has no being. But ... Oh, did you hear that loon?