TO BUILD A FIRE

Day HAD BROKEN cold and gray, exceedingly cold and gray, when the man turned aside from the main Yukon trail and climbed the high earth-bank, where a dim and little-travelled trail led eastward through the fat spruce timberland. It was a steep bank, and he paused for breath at the top, excusing the act to himself by looking at his watch. It was nine o'clock. There was no sun nor hint of sun, though there was not a cloud in the sky. It was a clear day, and yet there seemed an intangible pall over the face of things, a subtle gloom that made the day dark, and that was due to the absence of sun. This fact did not worry the man. He was used to the lack of sun. It had been days since he had seen the sun, and he knew that a few more days must pass before that cheerful orb, due south, would just peep above the sky-line and dip immediately from view.

To BUILD A FIRE by Jack London is certainly a cautionary tale about being out in winter weather and your ability to build a fire.  If you haven’t read the whole tale, simply google the name and the short story is easily found and read online. 

Well, can a modern day mountain man (or mountain boy or girl) build a fire with just a single match and what they can find?  Its always interesting to find out.  And each winter we try to expose the 6th grade to this task during a field trip. 

I like to first allow the students to attempt fire by themselves without any instruction except for the promise of 1 match.

 Early efforts are always interesting as students try different found materials, and match techniques.  Its  a rare group that manages a fire their first attempt, though it does on occasion happen.  The most common effort starts with too large a stick, and the hope that touching a lighted match to it will cause it to burst into flame.  The occasional flash of brilliance to gather dead dry grass and heaping quantities happens and a fire is born.  Lets look back to Jack’s story and see what his character does…..when the need for a fire suddenly presents itself (in 70 below temperature)

On top, tangled in the underbrush about the trunks of several small spruce trees, was a high-water deposit of dry fire-wood—sticks and twigs, principally, but also larger portions of seasoned branches and fine, dry, last-year's grasses. He threw down several large pieces on top of the snow. This served for a foundation and prevented the young flame from drowning itself in the snow it otherwise would melt. The flame he got by touching a match to a small shred of birch-bark that he took from his pocket. This burned even more readily than paper. Placing it on the foundation, he fed the young flame with wisps of dry grass and with the tiniest dry twigs

After the students first normally failed attempt, I show them that a match will produce flame from dead dry sticks provided the sticks are match size or smaller.  And because societal devolution has robbed boys of the ability to carry and use a pocket knife, none know to shave thin strips from larger branches in the absence of small or dry sticks.

I also show them that there are other materials in the woods to be found that burn quite redially, though green spruce needles do not (a commonly used student item, they reason a forest fire burns them quite well).

If flame can be coaxed from the single match, and it can feed tiny and then successively larger twigs, it always seems to surprise students how many sticks it takes to feed a good fire, and how much work it is to maintain that fire.  Its somewhat common to get a small fire that quickly runs out of fuel.

The average after a demonstration is about half of those who try can get a fire going.

The fire building was cold last week and though not nearly of the same level as our story, certainly cold enough to numb fingers and toes in the brief time we worked. 

Jack’s character was a newcomer in the land, a chechaquo and this was his first winter.  But alas, winter up north has little patience for the inept.

High up in the tree one bough capsized its load of snow. This fell on the boughs beneath, capsizing them. This process continued, spreading out and involving the whole tree. It grew like an avalanche, and it descended without warning upon the man and the fire, and the fire was blotted out! Where it had burned was a mantle of fresh and disordered snow.

The man was shocked, it was though he had just heard his own sentence of death.