The day before the ride I chopped up some turkey, carrots, celery and various other soup-making ingredients with the idea that I'd ride out into the National Forest, make myself a campfire and cook the soup. To that end I brought a knife, folding saw, chunks of rope (for making a tripod to hang the soup pot, as well to suspend said pot), extra clothes to keep warm while not exercising. I rode out a ways until I saw a good spot - out of the wind and two oak trees down nearby, hauled my bike through the trees and snow to a good spot. Only then did I realize that I had forgotten matches or a lighter.
Happily in the handle of my knife is a ferrocerium rod (which is a rod that when you scrape it gives off sparks). I gathered everything I needed to coax a spark into an actual fire. Birchbark, small twigs, finger-sized twigs, and finally some larger fuel.
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| I even split down some dead/standing maple to get to some nice, dry wood in the middle. |
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| I had lashed a simple tripod but needed a fire to cook. After a bit (OK, a lot) of scraping and swearing (that little ferro rod in my knife handle isn't really meant to be the go-to method for starting fire and as such is kinda tricky to use) I finally managed to get a spark to land just right on some birch bark and it caught. I quickly threw on the fire-building materials that I had collected and it took off - and I breathed a sigh of relief. |
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| They say (and I agree) that everything tastes better when cooked over the campfire and eaten outside, and the soup was delicious but I think it would have held it's own in most kitchens - it's delicious-ness wasn't only because of the campfire setting (hell, even ramen noodles taste good cooked over a fire and eaten in a beautiful setting)...it was just good soup. I think. Maybe my mind was playing tricks on me. I'm sorry to toot my own horn I'm just sayin' that I enjoyed my soup. |
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| It was kind of a huge serving of soup and when I first saw it I didn't know if I could finish it - maybe I'd have to leave some for the forest critters, but as the contents of the pot got lower my belly didn't get as stuffed as I thought it might. |
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| Soup eaten and hot cocoa drunk and dishes "washed" it was time to pack up and head home, but not before watching the sunset through the trees. |
