Campfire memories
This week we got to go camping with friends. We escaped the inland heat and went to the coast.
Camping with my family at Bell Mountain
My grandfather in front of a huge campfire.
Tony and I have pretty much stopped considering fire wood a necessity for our camping trips. After all, our little Lake County and northern California have experienced plenty of devastating wildfires over the past few years. We used to just love coming home from camping, with the smell of smoke in our hair and clothes. Nowadays, though, we are a bit paranoid, and we don’t light fires when we camp alone. We do have a gas fire pit that we use for ambiance and for cooking with our cast iron skillets. We just don’t build wood fires. And to be honest, sometimes I miss them.
So, it’s a treat to camp with people who do light fires. As we did this week. The Manchester, CA KOA has really wonderful concrete fire rings that contain the fire very nicely. Our friends built a beautiful, warm fire (it can be chilly on the coast, even in summer!). Also, the wifi was terrible at the campground (surprise!) so I didn’t spend much time staring at my phone. Instead, I spent quite a bit of time staring at the fire, remembering my younger camping days.
Most nostalgic are my memories of camping in the southern California desert with my family. I have so many precious memories of those trips. In particular, I remember sitting up after everyone else had gone to bed, and watching the fire with Grandpa. He and I were always close, and I adored and admired him. So, if he was sitting up, then by golly so was I! Grandpa didn’t get up and move if the smoke blew toward him, he just told me that smoke followed beauty and so I sat there with watering eyes, being tough like Grandpa.
College friends from a journey to the desert while studying geology.
Since most of my childhood camping was done in the desert, there wan’t much danger of fire spreading and so they sometimes were built up pretty big. Once, someone threw an old tire on the fire. That was gross and I did NOT hang out to admire that smoke!
As I sat staring into the fire this week, I let the memories flow. The family campouts, the desert trips with the Southern California Beer & Gun Club, the field trips in college, the numerous trips with friends.
We probably still won’t travel with fire wood. But I am sure glad that our friends do!
