We set up camp first with the leaky tent. It had no rainfly, but that should not be a problem. Neither one of us had a real sleeping bag, just a blanket or two. We also had no way to cook except with a campfire. Problem was, everything was drenched and we had no hatchet or saw or anything to cut the wood into manageable pieces. We did gather a few sticks the quantity of which fell well short of what we needed and set them aside until we were ready to cook our trout.
Several hours later we attempted to filet the two eight inch rainbow trout we managed to catch. Problem was, the knives we had were so dull they were all but useless. About all we managed to accomplish was to create a pile of assorted fish parts. We were pretty hungry by this time so we decided needed to build the fire. Problem was, it was still raining and everything, us, the tent, and especially the few sticks of firewood we had gathered was soaked. Somehow or another we managed to nurse the fire into a roaring smoke and smudge producer that generated virtually no heat. With a few crumbs of cornmeal blended with the fish parts, we attempted to cook our meal. Needless to say, we remained two very hungry, waterlogged, and discouraged campers and left the next day almost disillusioned about the wonders of the great outdoors. On the way home we stopped at a hamburger joint and feasted on a large, juicy burger and fries meal.
Camp cooking is a fine art often becoming either a tasty gourmet treat or disastrous pile of inedible, often burnt mush. Most of the time, when you are hungry enough, that pile of inedible mush tastes pretty good and will get you by in a stomach growling pinch.
My first real attempts at camp cooking took place when I was around nine or ten years old in my grandmother's spacious, tree shaded backyard. I used an old, musty smelling army surplus tent my dad had purchased for me. Inside I placed an old rickety canvas cot along with a dozen or so blankets my grandmother allowed me to use. It was summer, and typically hot as blazes, but that did not seem to bother me. As evening approached I wanted to cook something using my old army surplus cook kit, so I gathered a couple armfuls of loose limbs and branches and somehow or another managed to build a fire without burning down the place.
I ran inside my grandmothers kitchen and raided the icebox. Not sure I can remember exactly what it was I grabbed, but managed to cook it over that little fire. I'm pretty sure whatever it was, it was burnt on the bottom and raw on top, but I cooked it myself over a fire I built myself. I did manage to make it through the night camping out in that old tent. The next morning as I woke up I noticed a dozen or so daddy longlegs spiders crawling around inside the tent. Not long after, the dozen or so mosquito bites I had managed to acquire began to itch. Even so, with childlike anticipation I rekindled the fire and raided the kitchen again, this time grabbing a couple of eggs and a few strips of bacon. No burnt breakfast ever tasted so good.
My skills as a camp cook hasn't improved all that much over the years only now along with burnt food, I tend to spill things into the fire. Doesn't matter what it is, boiling water, stew, or a hamburger usually about half of it ends up in the fire somehow. Even so, there have been those memorable moments when it all, well almost, comes together. Like the time on a Buffalo River float trip a good number of years ago now, my late, old friend Ralph brought one of his oldest friends, a fellow who was about as friendly as they come and could cook like you can't imagine. I believe he was a former military cook, maybe Navy...not sure, but he could build a campfire meal so good we just laid around in total bliss afterwards. This guy was also the absolute, world champion snorer. None of us got any sleep the whole time we were there because of it. But the good food he conjured up certainly made up for it.
I tend to keep my camp cookery simple building meals that are quick and easy, yet meals that provide some carrying capacity. My favorite is bacon and eggs. How could you go wrong with those two ingredients. Well, believe me, I have on numerous occasions. Burnt bacon and scorched eggs sit rather heavy on the gut, but will get you through the day.
Sometimes I'll cook chicken and rice combos using those cans of white chicken and a package of quick rice. It's just a matter of boiling the rice then adding in the chicken. Quick and easy and filling.
Canoe camping cookery affords you some luxury in that for the most part you can carry a bit more stuff. Although I do not like to, I will at times carry a small cooler so I can tote food stuffs that need to remain cool especially during the summer months. As long as you do not have to portage your gear any distance, you can get away with doing so. Backpacking is just the opposite. Weight is at a premium and the idea is to limit the volume and thus the excess weight when packing your gear. Freeze dried meals are a good option for backpacking. They are really good and weigh next to nothing, however they can be a bit pricey.
In spite of the trials and misadventures of camp cooking, I really do enjoy the adventure. Camp cookery has over the years provided some of the most memorable and entertaining if not heartburning moments. Building a fire, or even firing off your cook stove will often become the highlight of an outing filled with hopeful anticipation and sometimes terror filled disastrous results. Smoke in your eyes, an empty fuel bottle with no backup, inclement weather, and, oh yeah, the bag of food you left on the kitchen counter, certainly, a great many laughable memories are associated with cooking a campfire meal.
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