Definitions: Titanium

(1) Titanium is... The Fairy Queen in Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream? (Nope. That was Titania. Dang.)

(2) Titanium is... Proof that you've spent more money on your cook set (or stove, or boot lace tips) than anyone else in your hiking group, extended family, city, state, province, country, continent, planet. (Hmmm...ah...well...)

(3) Titanium is... Proof that you're trendy, and possibly an idiot, though still a trendy one. Let's hope you can dress the part. (Closer. We're getting closer...)

(4) Titanium is... A metal incorrectly described by absolutely everyone stupid as "amazingly lightweight and strong, and perhaps the way to go if you're obsessive about ounces."

No, it isn't. But what would you expect to read in Backpacker magazine?

Titanium is a metal, yes. And titanium is light, compared to uranium. But not compared to steel.

Stoveless and cook-pot-less and fuel-less is the way to go if you're obsessive about ounces (or even worse, if you are what they call a gram weenie), and can gag down cold, slimy, tasteless suppers night after night.

Aluminum, however, is the way to go if you're obsessive about ounces (or grams) and also about price, and if you like to compare the weights of your tools to the weights of their shadows.

Titanium is only 12% lighter than steel, though it has nearly all of steel's strength, which is good, while aluminum is a whole 54% lighter than steel and still has 75% of steel's strength (Spot the trend here?), which is plenty-nuff for a cook pot, to use the technical term.

True, titanium doesn't ding or dent very easily (because it is tough, and that is nice), and titanium is highly resistant to corrosion (which means that it stays more prettier longer). Since titanium has that toughness, it can be rolled thin. The thinner the material, the less there is of it, and so the less the finished product weighs (even if it's made of uranium), which is the real advantage of titanium, the toughness.

But if you just want a pot to cook in and you don't care a lot about exactly how pretty it is, but you do care about how heavy it is while still caring about how much it costs, then aluminum is the way to go. Sure, you sort of do care about how tough a pot is and so on, kinda, and you may also think a bit about how beat up it's going to look eventually, in a few years. Or maybe not. Your call, eh?

Titanium considered only as a material is significantly heavier and vastly more expensive than aluminum. Those who own titanium doodads tend feel smarter than the rest of us because they can afford to, and because titanium tends to keep its manufactured shine longer. OK.

Then again, a lot of people who feel that way don't go backpacking anyhow, because if they went backpacking they would get their clothes dirty and they would get tired, and what they really above all want is to keep that just-off-the-shelf, crisply-pressed, squeaky-clean, newly-unwrapped look, while continuing to smell of aftershave. Titanium will help with that. Even if you're a woman who likes to wear aftershave.

So, titanium is really for people who don't ever want to sweat or walk uphill or discover that bugs are attracted to them.

 

---

See tabs at the top for definitions and books.
Have extra info to add?
If the commenting system is out again, then email sosayseff@nullabigmail.com
Me? Still dusting my rust.

Poking At The Potty Feast Stove

OK I did it. Finally.

Raw material.

Last summer I thought I'd try the Fancy Feast stove or the Fancy Feest or whatever you want to call it.

Original screening.

If you can call it it. Because there are several varieties going under identical or similar names. I chose the one that had the pot sitting on a screen sitting inside a cat-food-sized-can. Not a great design, but this was a feasibility study.

Closeup view (kina blurred, I know...).

For the last 14+ years I've been using a pot stand made of half-inch hardware cloth, with the stove sitting on the ground (on top of a reflector). In my scheme the stove provides heat but no support. My pot stand is as wide as I can make it, given the size of my "pot" (an aluminum cup). That means that the pot has a wide and stable support.

The new stuff (much better).

The Fancy Feast-style of stove puts the cooking pot on top of a stove whose base diameter is 2.3 inches (60mm). My current pot stand is 3.25 inches (83 mm), so it's roughly an inch larger in diameter. This can save lunch.

Screen cut out of its retaining ring.

A tippy pot support is never good. And besides being wider, my hardware-cloth stand has sharp nubbins on both ends. These bite into the bottom of my pot and the ground, adding to stability.

A double-width section cut to size.

But the Fancy Feast seemed worth trying, so I tried it.

Rolled, with ends stapled together.

I got a cheap frying-pan spatter screen from Wally World and cut out the screen. Then I rolled it into a tube and stuck that inside an empty can of potted meat. Inside the can I have a small wad of fiberglass insulation. The fiberglass insulation helps a bunch in getting the alcohol lit, especially on cold days. On several cold days I've had to use half a dozen matches before I managed to get my stove lit, and then had it go out again due to frigid fuel.

Top view of the same.

Fiberglass has thousands of tiny points and all sorts of thin, interlocked fibers that increase the surface area hugely, giving a match flame a much bigger chance of lighting the fuel. Fiberglass also mediates the burning, so the fuel isn't barely burning, then raging, and then suddenly out altogether. With fiberglass I get a much more even response all the way through, and as I said, the stove is immensely easier to light with a fiberglass wick.

Last summer's version burning.

So last summer I made the screen and tried the stove. It worked really well but had problems:

• It was too narrow as a pot stand.
• The screen wasn't stiff enough.
• The screen wasn't durable enough.
• The stove had to prime itself.

What's that last point?

Well, putting the pot on top of the screen after lighting the stove snuffed the stove out. I had to wait a minute or two (a minute or two) for the stove to get up to working temperature and heat up the screen, and then it was great, but not before.

And where are we today?

Today's version (very crummy photo, innit?).

Mostly at the same place.

The original screen that I got at Wally World was punched-and-expanded aluminum — very cleverly done, but an aluminum screen is not going to stand up to intense heat for long, so recently I bought another screen. This one is definitely steel, and woven of wires. Maybe it isn't stainless steel, but I don't really care about that.

Also, I wanted to leave a gap between the top of the screen and the bottom of my pot so the screen would act as a kind of chimney and draft-defeater, but because of the gap between the screen and the pot, setting my pot down wouldn't put out the stove.

Waiting one or two minutes for the stove to reach operating temperature is nuts, so I used my pot stand to support the pot, and let the stove do only the heating.

Results.

Eh. Not much to rave about, but I think I'll try this new setup on the trail.

Today's screen mounted in potted meat can.

The screen adds a few grams to the stove, but should protect and steady the stove's flame while routing the flame straight up to the bottom of the pot. That's what I want most.

I use a full-coverage windscreen made of folded aluminum foil (see link to previous post). I also have some aluminum foil wrapped around my pot support. Adding this new screen will give me a third layer of protection. Ideally, I'd like to have a hot flame burning in still air, and now I have three shots at getting to that state.

Better stove efficiency means the fuel goes farther, or the cooking goes faster, or both. Them are both good. Not having my stove fall over is a third good thing, which is why I'm staying with my pot support.

And, on top of all that, I'm not really ready to do a lot more experimenting. I've used Sgt. Rock's Ion stove for years, but the heat output is low, and partly because the flame is small, it's sensitive to being blown around by the lightest whiff of air.

Top view. (Yes, it is a crude hack job.)

Using a wide-open cat-food-sized-can gives a bigger flame but a sloppier flame. Adding a fiberglass wick helps, but it's still a big, sloppy flame. This new screen ought to improve things even though I have been actually getting by fine. It's an improvement, not a revolution.

I think I'll stop here unless I have a real need to change things. The other Feast/Feest stove models don't look interesting.

• The (Andrew Skurka) version with holes punched in its sides shoots flame out the sides where it does no good.
• The spacecraft-quality solid-chimney model from Zelph does more than I need and would be unstable anyway, if I did use the stove as a pot support.
• The 2007 pot-stand-and-stove version with a stainless-steel screen is another wobbly variation I can do without, although it is nicely made.

More.

• "Fancyfeast Stove" Updated Sept 12 2007
• Zelph's Stoveworks Factory
• Shugemery Fancee Feest Stove
• Zelph Fancee Feest
• Make your own: Fancy Feast Alcohol Backpacking Stove
• Sgt. Rock's Ion Stove
• Super Duper Ultralight Windscreen Super! Duper! Foldable! Crinkly!
  
  

Definitions: Backwater

If it tastes bad, maybe there's a reason for that.

(1) As with so many problems, this one can be caused by food. Too much food, food too raw, dirty food, food too ripe, the wrong kind of food and the like. We could go on, but right now, if you have this problem, you don't want to hear any more about going, let alone about gurgling, rumbling, spewing, spraying, trotting, running, doing the two-step, or telltale stains on your pants. Backwater is a sign that your body has something going on that shouldn't be going on, and is trying to get rid of it, and will keep doing that, and that you need to pay attention. Because, really, no one else will want to even think about it.

(2) Where there is water, and it is flowing, or could flow if it wanted to, and there is a channel, then probably there is also a little bit of water in what looks like a sort of appendix stuck onto the main channel. This stuck-on channel probably doesn't have any current at all, and sometimes it is only damp earth, with no real water in it. That's a backwater kind of place, so it's called a backwater. This is where mosquitoes come from, and in-laws.

(3) A resupply town. Nirvana. Metropolis. Civilization. Maybe it's a backwater compared to where you came from, but right now, with you out of food and fuel and looking for a post office and a bed, it's The Big City. Especially if it has pizza and beer, ice cream and beer, or just beer.

What's Good For Poking, Then?

Try some of these.

Last time I wrote about fish bags. This time it's about potato pokers. Not a new series of card games but tools. For those who like to do naughty things to vegetables.

I guess they do have a legitimate use — coaxing potatoes to bake a bit faster. The intent seems to be that an aluminum rod shoved through a raw potato will convey oven heat into the tuber's inside, encouraging it to cook faster.

OK fine. If you really want to.

But baking is naturally inefficient anyway, so why fuss? If you want fast, go straight to steaming, after hacking the lumpy root into manageable pieces. Steaming's wicked fast, but then, who am I to judge those who enjoy the slow, juicy shove?

I did, however notice the points. They are pointy, these implements. And cheap.

I forgot to write down the cost, but it was around $2.75 for the six of them, much cheaper than official tent pegs. And I need a set of pegs, since I recently got two little shelters that I need to try out.

Did I say pointy? Pointy and light. Very light. Large-diameter but light — all aluminum. They should work, but if not, I know where the potatoes live if I want to do some serious pricklement, indoors some night. When I'm in one of those moods.

More:

Potato Bake Rods – 5588

Soyl de Hoy

So long pepper pot.

Menú
Sopa de frejól
Filete de pescado
Frutas con yogurt
Jugo de melón

That was lunch today. Two-fifty, even, at El Túnel, a little place around the corner. Open weekdays, twelve to three. I can pull on a pair of pants, be seated in less than five, and someone else does the dishes. Sweet.

Joe runs the joint. Eat there if you're ever here. Here is Cuenca, Ecuador.

I can't say when my next backpacking trip might be, but food on the trail is always a problem. You know that. I know that.

Decisions — you make them and live with them, like it or not. Often not.

First it's whether or not to eat. That's a quick one. Then whether or not to cook. Generally no debate there either. Food wins, and hot food wins.

So, either you throw cash at a case of foil pouches or roll your own, and still suffer inedibility.

So then what? Think.

Maybe you can eat without eating, and do it cheap. And not cook, and not mind. Maybe Soylent.

Maybe $3 a day. Maybe half that for a 3000-calorie day, when Soylent is available. Almost. It almost is.

Maybe this is nuts. Maybe not.

I do not enjoy grocery shopping, cooking, or cleaning dishes and I shouldn't have to. I do not like to repeat myself and I do not like having things that I do not need. No one asks me to make my own clothes. Why should I be expected to make my own food?

...

I hypothesized that the body doesn't need food itself, merely the chemicals and elements it contains. So, I resolved to embark on an experiment. What if I consumed only the raw ingredients the body uses for energy? Would I be healthier or do we need all the other stuff that's in traditional food? If it does work, what would it feel like to have a perfectly balanced diet? I just want to be in good health and spend as little time and money on food as possible. -- Rob Rhinehart, inventor of Soylent

Rhinehart has been at this for a year, mixing, eating, refining, repeating. He has $2 million in early orders and over $1.5 million in funding to support a business.

What's it really like? I don't know. You'll have to try it.

Early on, Rhinehart tasted a batch:

The first morning my kitchen looked more like a chemistry lab than a cookery, but I eventually ended up with an thick, odorless, beige liquid. I call it 'Soylent'. At the time I didn't know if it was going to kill me or give me superpowers. I held my nose and tepidly lifted it to my mouth, expecting an awful taste.

It was delicious! I felt like I'd just had the best breakfast of my life. It tasted like a sweet, succulent, hearty meal in a glass, which is what it is, I suppose. I immediately felt full, yet energized, and started my day.

Maybe it will start one of your own days before long. Out on a trail. Maybe? What?

Until then, I'll be holding down a chair at El Túnel most days.

More:

Rhinehart: How I Stopped Eating Food

Rhinehart: The Whole Food Fallacy

Rhinehart: Two Months of Soylent

Vice: Soylent Passed $2 Million in Orders, Will Ship Next Month

Vice: The Post-Food Man: Drink Soylent, and You May Never Have to Eat Again

Soylent blog: Soylent 1.0 Final Nutrition

Soylent home: Soylent — Free Your Body

Partly Organic

Mostly digestible.

Backpackers are special people.

They go outside carrying things on their backs, and suffer for their cause. This is doubly true for long-distance backpackers, the grimly-determined bunch who stomp along for months at a time.

All backpackers have one thing in common, though – they'll eat anything.

This is partly due to boredom, but hiking consumes mass calories, and hikers need calories to keep going. But food is expensive, and often hard to come by, so some forward-thinking backpackers have been experimenting.

For a long time there has been this MYOG or Make Your Own Gear movement among backpackers, many of whom do not have regular jobs. Even those who do work in the off-season don't make a lot of money, so they've gotten resourceful.

Well, the whole MYOG idea applies to food too, with a little twist.

You've probably heard the phrase eat your own dogfood. Normally it means that the best way to improve something you're involved with is to know it, and the best way to know it is to use it.

Fair enough, but backpackers live close to the ground, and are too literal-minded to grasp abstract concepts, so many of them just eat actual dogfood out of a bag.

Which makes a certain amount of sense.

For example, you blow into Pipe Wrench, WY on a Thursday afternoon during your Continental Divide hike, and you find a gas station. You already have gas, so you're OK there, but you do need food. Unfortunately, chewing tobacco, whiskey, beer nuts, and Hinkey Bars (at 98 cents each) are not going to serve you well, and that's all they have.

But every gas station and convenience store in The Real America does have a full selection of dog food. So you fill your pack with that, and clear out of town before sundown to avoid the people who do live on chewing tobacco, whiskey, beer nuts, and Hinkey Bars.

Some brands you might like are...

Taste of the Wild: High Plains Prairie Dog

"My personal favorite. It's DELICIOUS. I grab a handful at home whenever I'm hungry just to much on. I haven't tried Taste of the Wild: Roadkill yet, but my friends rave about it, so I'm going to." – Beth R.

Anything by Merric

• Chicken with Brown Rice & Green Peas
• Beef with Whole Barley & Carrots
• Lamb with Brown Rice & Apples
• Grain Free Cowboy Cookout (with real cowboy chunks)

"The only canned food I'd ever even consider carrying above the Arctic Circle." – Andrew S.

Sam's Arfy Chow

"Chicken, Brown Rice & Green Pea Senior Classic Recipe Dry Dog Food isn't just for old dogs. Make your own golden years slide by as smoothly as possible with Sam's Arfy Chow products. They contain omega fatty acids for skin and coat health and glucosamine and chondroitin for joint support. You'll be romping down the trail like a young pup again in no time." – Flyin' Brian R. (You know who I am.)

California Munchy

"I always try each new dog food (never Iams, Beneful or anything with by-products – that's a little scary). CA Munchy Lamb Meal supports lean muscles. Plus the whole-grain brown rice has vitamins, antioxidants and fiber. The white rice gives me a quick energy boost, and the sunflower oil is hopping with those essential fatty acids." – Jennifer PharStride Davis

"I've tasted a few other brands, but this stuff is truly great. When I'm really hungry, I can't hardly wait, and it all smells awesome!! My next bag will either be Leepin Lizzerd or Blue Buffalo. They're supposed to be pretty tasty, and they're made with real hemp oil residue." – Josh Gosh! Garrett (PCT Record holder, if I may say so.)

Q: What about cat food?

A: Freak – that's DISGUSTING! Get outta here!

More:

Best-tasting dog food, in YOUR (not your dog's) opinion?

Today's Review

One in the hole.

Tired of the same old Beef Stroganoff with Macaroni and Cheese 2-Serving Freeze-Dried Pro-Paks? Or possibly the Turkey with Beet Bits and Eggs and Ham and Spuds? (Also freeze-dried.) You may be, if you've been eating official hiking food for a while.

Well, just because you're going out for a few days doesn't mean you have to buy expensive meals sealed in plastic. And maybe you don't want to.

For example, have you ever read what goes into one of these high-tech meals? Maybe, or like the rest of us, the only problem you ever had was finding a rock to hide the used pouch under.

So let's take a closer look at what's inside, courtesy of the fine print from a famous brand.

This instant entree of tasty food-like substances features tender beef-lookalike critter chunks jumbled with noodles, mushrooms, and a richly sour yet cream-like sauce.

Our patented Stand-Erect™ Chow-N-Go® eating pouch, made of 100% recycled nearly food-grade running shoe soles, provides a totally easy way to cook and eat your meal.

First, open the pouch, place it in a flat spot, and add boiling water. Wait three to five minutes, then crawl over and feed yourself until satiated. Just stick your head into the pouch and have at it. There's no need for fancy utensils like plates or sporks whatsoever. Pets love it too!

Ingredients: Richly-flavored cooked animal protein (includes animal flavoring and salt), mostly-natural foaming agents, milky substances, sodium phosphate, guar gum, locust bean gum, and goo). Mushroom chips, corn starch, nonfat dry milk lookalike powder, dehydrated spices, salt, beefy-flavored flavor (roasted animal and concentrated animal stock, hydrolyzed corn gluten, other dried things and yeasty extract), molasses, more spices, and additional spicy extract. Precooked noodles are made from genuine farm products. Extra salt added for flavor.

Nothing new there, but this stuff is expensive. So next time, how about you should make your own?

"Effort," you're thinking, probably. "Effort is hard and stuff." But maybe not. There are many fine meals that even you can make along the trail. All that's really necessary is a little imagination, or hunger and a pointed stick.

Today's recipe is called "Toad in the Hole", but of course you can't eat it in the hole, which is where the pointed stick comes in.

A typical, complicated "gourmet" recipe is something like the following:

Ingredients

• 1 egg
• 1/2 cup plain flour
• salt
• 3/4 cup milk
• 2 sausages
• butter or oil

Whisk the salt, egg, milk, and flour into a batter.

Roast the sausages in a small pan and remove. Toss in the butter or oil, reheat, then replace the sausages and pour in the batter.

Bake until puffy and brown all over.

See something wrong here? Yes. First, there's no toad. Second, where is the hole? And third, who carries all that stuff?

For backpackers, you have to keep it simple, and real. Real simple. In other words, take it back to basics. And we can't have any of that complicated baking.

In fact, Toad in the Hole originally started out simple. The first toad in the hole recipe didn't even call for toads, only "bits and pieces of any kind of meat", which is great, but it's easier if you aren't even that fussy.

So here is an updated recipe:

Ingredients

• One hole-dwelling critter

Boil water. Pour into hole.

Wait 10 minutes, five if you are extra hungry.

Remove critter from hole with pointed stick.

Eat.

Get back to hiking.

Still not sure? Here is an actual published review by an actual hiker:

By Albert H., from Nashville, TN.

Comments: I've tried this meal several times on different 3-season trips.

Overall, better than the Mountain Hut Beefy Stew with Noodly Bites, and didn't make me fart so much.

This is a great way to eat on weekend backpacking trips in the Great Smoking Mountains, where there are lots of holes.

My friends laughed at first but I saved enough money on food over the summer to afford a winter vacation to Acapulco, so that's cool, because I can hang out on the beach between visits to the parasite doctor. Sometimes it's hard finding enough live burrows near well-used camp-sites, but a warm, moist meal at the end of a long day is always nice, and it's easy to prepare. The pointed stick came in handy when the weasel was only partly cooked that one time and still had lots of fight left in him, but it worked out pretty well in the end.

I was always a skeptic about that prepacked and precooked food for hikers anyways and now I have a great alternative, and it's cheap too!

Pros:

• Easy To Prepare
• Flavorful
• Lightweight
• Quick Cook Time

Cons:

• Gave me tongue warts (when I ate a real toad).
• Wasn't fully cooked once (but I was short on stove fuel, so my fault there).
• I thought lizards were supposed to taste like chicken.
• My mistake, but only the first time - I thought it said "turd in a hole". Overly chewy, but still flavorful, and I caught on pretty fast.

More:

RECIPE: Toad in the Hole

Mugged

Because I got lucky.

About to leave Cuenca after six months, I went looking for a doll.

They have Barbie dolls here, and Kohler dolls. Kohler dolls seem to be exactly like Barbie dolls, but they have a different name on the box.

Both varieties have all the grace and charm of bayonets, and they're plastic too.

The guy who works 16 hours a day, six days a week at my hotel has a wife, and a little girl. When I leave I don't want to just tip him. I think I'll tip his daughter too.

At Christmas I bought four candy bars. Chocolate Negro, 63% cacao, made by Fábrica de Chocolates Bios Cía. Ltda. in Quito. Two were intended as gifts, one for "Señor Jefe", whose name I've never learned, and one for Danny, who puts in double shifts six days a week.

The other two were for me. I hadn't had chocolate in around a year, and since the good stuff is available here, hey.

On my way out for a walk on Christmas Day, I gave a bar (100 g, solid dark chocolate, price $2.27) to Danny and showed him mine, to be sure he knew that if the stuff was good enough for him, it was good enough for me.

When I got back, there was a woman here, and a tiny little girl. Hmmm.

I asked as well as my rudimentary Spanish allowed, if that was his family. Danny said yes.

Then I pulled out my fourth and last bar, told him it was my last, and said it was for his little girl. He ran out to the lobby area and gave it to her. And I do mean "ran". With a big smile on his face. The chocolate bar was half as big as she was.

You know how little kids are. She sort of held it and rocked, and leaned back against the wall, not knowing what to do next.

But I bet she caught on.

I went back to my room.

Time passes, and I'm about to leave Ecuador.

What to do now?

I thought Danny and his wife would appreciate a gift for the little one, so I went looking for dolls.

Barbie is like a cold-hearted, scarred hooker with a heart full of nails. Ditto for Kohler.

And they're all pasty white with synthetic blond hair, and rigid with the rigor mortis of the toy industry. Their skin color is nowhere near the girl's. Would this be the right gift?

Nope.

I finally decided to get a teddy bear. Still synthetic, but squeezably soft. Probably a better choice for a three-year-old.

But.

On my way up to the toy department I made a detour through the household goods. This was at the Coral Hipermercado in Mall del Rio, on Cuenca's south side.

It's a big place, full of everything you hate about giant chain stores, but with decent prices and, since this is Ecuador, also full of things you can't find in North Dakota.

Like my new cup.

I can't find a scale to weigh it, but it feels like it's around three ounces (85 g), maybe four (113 g), or in between (85 - 113 g).

It's choice, made by Imusa in Colombia out of aluminum, my favorite hiker-pot material. It is bigger than I'd like, at one liter, but it is big enough for sure. I never need anything larger, and have been getting by for years with a 16-fluid-ounce measuring cup (0.47 L) that I lucked onto once upon a time.

Unfortunately, the measuring cups are either unavailable now, or sold by some other company that remains secret. The one I bought mine from switched over from hardware to recipe books, and dropped all their kitchen products. At 1.8 ounces (51 g), I could put up with the cup's slightly sparse capacity.

In fact, for cooking it is pretty good, since all I do is heat water.

I heat 12 to 16 ounces (0.35 to 0.47 L) of water, pour that into a food bag, and wait. While waiting, I refill the cup and make tea. When the alcohol stove goes out I leave the cup sitting there, enclosed by the wind screen.

Usually my meal is about cool enough to eat by this time, so I do that, and when done, I'm ready for tea and it's ready for me. My full-coverage wind screen protects the brewed tea from breezes, and allows the tea to cool, but slowly. It's almost always just barely cool enough to drink when I reach for it.

So, I guess that works well.

Where I could use a bit more capacity is related to the other uses my cup has. Like dipping water from a stream, to fill a water bottle. But mostly in bathing.

Sixteen ounces, poured repeatedly, works. One liter (33.8 fl oz) is more, and works better. And it works better too if, every once in a while I want to wash a hankie or a pair of socks. In my cooking pot. A liter-sized pot holds more socks.

Sure, yes, I do clean out the pot after, by rinsing. And the last couple of years I've taken to finishing up by dumping a bit of alcohol into the pot and lighting it, which heats the pot, sterilizes it, and dries it. Otherwise the things I put into the pot (like matches) get damp, but not if the pot is gotten hot and allowed to air cool first.

This wastes a little stove fuel but not much, and makes things a whole lot more predictable and less messy. Get the whole cooking set dry, pack it away inside a plastic bag, and that's it. No more fussing with damp matches.

So this new pot is made of much thicker aluminum. I won't be using the pot often, but when I do it will be easy enough to carry extra stove fuel.

And it may have been a dumb purchase, but how often am I going to be getting back to Ecuador?

I had planned to stay here permanently, but am thinking that no longer, and doubt I'll be back. And when I saw the price, that about did it.

The cup was marked at $2.32, but my receipt says $2.07. Pricing is one thing I've never figured out here. Still a good deal, either way.

I understand that some Walmart stores, the ones catering to Hispanic clientele, may carry products from Imusa. And someone is reselling these at Amazon.com, but the price is higher - $16.67 - which would get me eight of these mugs if bought here. (And no shipping charges either, though the round-trip airfare does inflate the price a tad bit.)

Funny thing though.

In researching this Imusa mug I bought, I found that someone else is selling the next generation of grease pots on Amazon.com. You can get a "Stanco Non-Stick Grease Strainer" for $8.77. This looks like the one that KMart was selling, at least for a while.

Unlike the Walmart grease pot, the body of this one has its rim rolled to the outside, not the inside, making it like a real cooking pot, and much easier to clean than the old Walmart greass pots were. Maybe it's worth checking out.

More:

Coral Hipermercados

Imusa USA home

Imusa USA products

Imusa Aluminum Mug, 1.25-Quart, 12 CM, at Amazon.com

IMUSA Aluminum Mug, at Walmart, or not, depending on the store - also note that this is a smaller one, 0.6 L (0.7 qt)

Stanco Non-Stick Grease Strainer, at Amazon.com

It's Not Too Early To Encounter A Grizzly

Snack time.

"Hey! You!"

That's what it sounded like.

What I thought I heard.

I couldn't be sure. It was a gruff sound, off somewhere. Muffled.

So muffled I wasn't sure I heard anything at all.

Or if I did, it could have been one pants leg grazing the other. I was snowshoeing after all, and wearing lots.

But I stopped. And listened. Just to be sure.

Nope. No sound. Aside from breathing.

Mine.

Everything was quiet around me, which was why I had put myself into the middle of it. Deliberately.

You don't find quiet much anymore. The world. Full of people and their things. Much coming and going. Much shouting about it all.

When I was younger, when each telephone had a cable coming out one end, and all were tied to walls, you knew when you saw someone walking, shouting into the air, that you had a nut job on the loose.

Some parts of the country had more than others, but you'd see one every now and then, no matter where you were. And you knew what the score was.

Not now.

The streets, the stores, every place you go. Full of these people now, day and night. A few are still the traditional wild-eyed, ravaged crazies.

The rest are moms and dads and their spawn, yelling their most private thoughts into cell phones, and spraying the rest of us with thoughts we do not want to receive.

So I get away when I can. To where it's quiet.

And in winter the backcountry is quiet. Genuinely.

No bugs. No birds. Nothing moves but wind, pushing an occasional snowflake around. No people.

But winter is nearly done, and today I saw something moving. Right behind me. When I turned to look.

A bear.

A grizzly. Bear.

Coming at me.

"Hey! You!" It said. To me. At me. Yes.

No. I hadn't been imagining. The bear was talking. With its mouth full.

"Hang on a minute," it said. I think it said. Hard to tell. With that meat in its maw.

Ripe meat. From last fall, or from winter. Meat returned from the dead. From far enough in the past to have a tang. Which came to me on the wind. Accompanied by bear stink.

No doubt about that one. Even though it was my first close encounter. Because there was only one possible source.

Which by now was an arm's-length away, staring at me.

The meat fell from the bear's mouth and sank into the soft, warming spring snow with a sound. Like "Shush!"

I didn't need a hint. I was not about to annoy this bear. Any bear. If possible.

I waited.

"Peanuts. I really like salted peanuts in those little crinkly packages. My favorite thing after a long winter of nothing. Even better than decaying moose. Much better, in fact. Got any?"

Unfortunately.

No.

I didn't.

Have any.

With me.

The bear waited, staring straight into my eyes. "Well, what you got? Do I have to eat you after all?"

Slowly, so as not to startle what should not be startled, I unbuckled my pack, then carefully lowered it. Opening the pack, I began pulling things out. Also slowly.

As I did, the bear sniffed each item with interest.

First, my gloves came out. Then my wool cap.

Both were clearly inedible, and not buttery or salty or spicy in exactly the way that gloves and a wool cap are not edible, and not buttery or salty or spicy.

A deep rumble rose from inside the bear and passed through me on its way to infinity. It was a deep rumble not indicating happiness.

I kept removing one thing and another from the pack until I reached food.

As I pulled out my lunch, the bear's jaws moved. Its massive teeth clacked together.

First its jaws shut. Then they opened. Then bear drool dripped onto my sleeve. I was OK with that, considering.

The bear snorted, then said "Don't hold back. I'm counting on you. No dumb tricks. I am really hungry today."

"I don't have much," I said, "but you're more than welcome to it. All of it if you like."

"Great," said the bear, "a few munchies from you, and this hunk of rotting moose and I'll be fine. I shouldn't have to eat you. I tried hiker once. Sour. Didn't like it, to tell you the truth. But if there's nothing else...well, you may know how it goes."

Unfortunately. I did.

I opened my lunch sack.

Inside was a tuna sandwich, an egg salad sandwich with lettuce, two bananas, and four Snickers bars.

Bananas I eat a lot, but not the rest, much, any more. No reason especially, I just don't.

And I don't know why, but this once in a blue moon I had a hankering for tuna, and egg salad. On the same day. On white bread, no less. And since it was a hiking trip I had splurged on a few Snickers bars, mandatory for any real hike, as you might know, if you hike.

"Ohgod," said the bear, "ohmygod, ohmygod. Oh my fricken god. Gimme."

Before I could lay the food out on the snow the bear was sniffing it, bobbing its head up and down. Wiggling its ears excitedly. Its back feet pumped up and down as it shifted its weight impatiently.

"Wait!" I said, "I have to unwrap the sandwiches. You don't want to eat this plastic wrap. Hang on a sec."

Suddenly.

The bear. Stopped.

Dead.

Not a hair of it.

Moved.

I looked.

It looked back.

Eye to eye. We were. The grizzly and. My puny self.

"Rrrraurph!" it rumbled with a basso profundo rumble so basso, so profundo, that all my joints came loose.

The rumble of a thunderstorm wearing fur. A thunderstorm with intense, intelligent eyes.

Which were glaring. At me.

"Very kind of you," it said, finally.

I unwrapped the sandwiches.

"More than anything that I hate, I hate being poked with a stick. But right after that, it's eating sandwiches in plastic wrap. You don't want to be around me when that happens," said the bear. "I tend to become impulsive. In an unpleasant way. For all concerned. Within a large radius."

Once unwrapped, both sandwiches were gone in a flash. The bananas too.

Which barely gave me time to skin the candy bars, but the bear took each delicately, and nibbled, slowly.

Considering its size, the size of its mouth, the size of its teeth, I'd say the bear nibbled, and with genteel precision.

It nibbled each and every Snickers bar.

First one.

Then another.

Until only one was left.

And this one it took whole into its mouth, and lay down, and rolled onto its back, and slowly chewed. Very, very slowly.

It chewed.

Grunting with delight.

As it did so.

And then, finished, it was back on its feet, with its nose touching my nose, and its eyes looking into my eyes.

It didn't move, and neither did I.

Until finally.

The bear grunted again.

"Now it's your turn," it said, its breath reeking of death.

"Have some rotting moose."

More:

It's not too early to encounter a grizzly

Explore Our Seven Varieties Of Sugar

Try eating just one.

We have White, we have Super White, we have Titanium White (It's shiny!), and now we have Golden White.

OK, that's four.

The others are Powdered White, Raw White, and Dark White.

We know sugar. Sugar is our biz, and we want to get you buzzed.

Little known fact: Sugar is the only food that the human body actually uses. The rest is all flavorings and artificial colors, plus a few stray proteins and other contaminants that only cause gas.

In case you wondered what's in your poop, it's that other stuff. Proteins, fats, roughage. Useless crap.

The stuff you eat that never comes back out? Sugar. Because your body knows a good thing when one comes along.

When the food you eat gets all digested and so on, and into the blood stream, circulating around, what do you think happens when it gets to the cells?

Give up?

Only sugar gets through those cell membranes.

Sweet.

Cells know what's good for them, and that would be sugar. Which is why we here at Koch&Ayne, makers of fine sugar products since powder was invented, take special pride in our work.

Here's just one example: The most often requested recipes from Koch&Ayne are for cookies. Sweet, sweet sugar cookies. Because why?

Because cookies are everyone's favorite treat.

Because cookies are chock full of sugar and are easy to prepare, and because they are addictive.

Cookies are a treat that can't stop saying "Bite me!"

For cookie perfection, follow a few simple tips.

To avoid problems with your cookie dough, add the least amount of flour possible. Substitute sugar, which keeps the cookies moist.

If your dough gets crumbly, add high fructose corn syrup - not the best way to go, but it's a good antidote for too much flour, and maintains that essential sweet taste.

After baking, if your cookies come out flat and thin and you think you followed all the directions, you didn't. Add more sugar next time.

If you're short on time, try leaving out the fillers. Like eggs, butter, and most of the flour. Remember: the key to great cookies is sugar. You can never go wrong with sugar.

And if time is really tight, skip the baking too. Whip water, flour, and that main ingredient, sugar, in a bowl, and heat on top of the stove until the batter thickens. Let it cool briefly, and eat it from the pot.

Later, when family and friends arrive, they can have some too. If they can pry that pot out of your cold, dead hands.

Right?

Right!

How to store cookies: Don't.

Eat now, make more later.

Always.

That's the secret to a long and happy life.

And of course, if you go hiking or backpacking, leave the freeze-dried turds for the amateurs. All your body really needs is the sweet kiss of Titanium White, available only from Koch&Ayne, purveyors of sparkly granules and patented powders since whenever.

We can't remember either.

Bye!

The Magic Of Roadkill

Plenty of vitamins, minerals, calories, and roughage, plus bits of glass and some gravel.

Who says we don't support outdoor recreation?

Wyoming is a state where people are known for living close to the ground. We're a no-nonsense sort of people here.

And, from the very beginning, we've supported the Continental Divide Trail. Without Wyoming's good, solid soil, that very same trail would collapse and fall into a deep hole.

It hasn't happened yet, and it's not going to.

We here in Wyoming fully support the Rocky Mountains, and the Rocky Mountains support us, our state, the Continental Divide Trail, and many other recreational activities such as skiing, sightseeing, and hunting traffic signs.

Yet, in these times of falling state revenues and budget shortfalls, we simply can't keep supporting each and every sport that's out there, and really - how many backpackers are there anyway? Twenty? Fifty? Fifty-three? Maybe fifty-four in a good year?

Not too many, though every now and then a local newspaper will feature one of these yokels tramping from Mexico to Canada and make it sound like a big thing. Especially those two or three oddballs every year who go from Canada to Mexico.

But where's the beef?

Your typical backpacker comes into town with two dollars in his pocket and spends 25 cents, and then vanishes forever in a cloud of dust, shed dandruff, and some stray armpit hairs, never to be seen again.

That is a luxury we can't really support any more.

Which is why I, Rep. Dan Z. Wuntit (R-Cheyenne) am proposing a bill.

House Bill 144 to be precise, which will institutionalize what is known among hiking riffraff as "Trail Magic".

The magic in my bill is to turn roadkill into nutritional meals for those rambling backpackers, allowing them to eat as much as they want so they can get the hell out of the State of Wyoming, and we can drop any and all support for any hiking or backpacking trail and such like.

I call it the "Eat It And Beat It Bill".

The Wyoming Game and Fish Commission will provide licenses to any potential Road-Food Scrapers.

To qualify as an official Scraper, a person has to commit to "putting road-killed wildlife carcasses to a beneficial use," such as creating "Trail Magic", by turning crushed raccoons, ground squirrels, skunks, and rattlesnakes into meals for hikers.

Dumpster diving would also be a lawful source of hiker nibbles.

Which would lower the burden of municipal garbage collectors and reduce the amount of edible materials we now consign to landfills, turning those substances instead into high-energy body fuel for rangy, shiftless backpackers.

To those who claim that people may intentionally run down stray critters, claiming they were already roadkill, I say fine. Let 'em. We got too many varmints out there now.

Anyhow, to abuse the law would be to abuse your vehicle for the sake of a few hikers. Anyone taking on a steer or pronghorn will learn the true value of automobile repairs, so that will be self-limiting. And all our ranchers know how to shoot straight, further reducing the likelihood of plowing into livestock.

I say let's try this. Anything that can't get out of the way shouldn't be on the road to start with.

That goes for hikers too. The less we have to think about them the better.

This is Rep. Dan Z. Wuntit ("The man with a plan.") signing off.

More:

Wyoming bill would legalize collecting roadkill for food

The Special D Diet

Tasty drink and rodenticide - all in one can!

The Central Asian Connecton

It is said that the foods of Central Asia fall into three categories:

• The nomadic diet, such as that of the Kruzbyz peoples (boiled meat, steamed meat, fried meat, fermented milk, bugs, bread sticks)
• The farmer's diet (vegetables, roots, grains mixed with sand, noodles mixed with dust, bread sticks, grubs, dried rodents)
• Foreign dishes (bottled and canned foods from lands such as Jamaica, Burkina Faso, and California, plus chocolate-covered bugs)

The most traditional of these is of course the nomadic diet, based as it is on tradition, and nomads, many of whom are still wandering around outdoors, and are slow to learn.

But perhaps the most interesting is a combination of all three categories. This would be mice fermented in Mountain Dew.

The Backpacking Connecton

Interestingly, this exotic dish also has a use in backpacking.

As any backpacker knows, mice can be a bitch. They get into your food, gnaw through packs, and every now and then you'll wake up from a perfectly good dream about Angelina Jolie, or Tom Cruise (depending of course on your personal tastes) to find a mouse running across your face.

Or worse, lots of mice.

Or worse yet, lots of mice trying to tunnel up your nostrils to get at boogers.

Now people often react to this. Some go straight home and lobby to outlaw backpacking for everyone.

Some are emotionally scarred for life, or until years later, when they start forgetting pretty much everything anyway.

Others you meet during job interviews, and only find out the truth later, after you've accepted the job, moved across the country, put your kids into school, and are then introduced to your new boss.

Science!

But science marches on. Science and diet. Food science and pest control. Whatever you want to call it.

See, the trick is that, when you cross the border into mouse country, take Mountain Dew. Take plenty. It's cheap. Sure, heavy to carry but really good at killing vermin, and makes them edible too. So think of Mountain Dew as an addition to your tool kit, and a possible culinary weapon.

How?

Here's how.

In the evening, just pop open a Dew, pour it into an open container, and slither down into your bag. You'll sleep OK.

Any critters that come along will jump right into The Dew, drown, and by morning they'll not only be way dead, but almost fully digested. You can swallow them whole for breakfast, washed down by your morning coffee, hang the remains in a mesh bag on the back of your pack until they get dry and crunchy, or just toss them into the bushes.

It all works.

Burial is not necessary in case you choose the final option, so don't get fussy.

Why? Do we want to know?

But why? How?

Mountain Dew contains citric acid, a substance naturally found in citrus fruits and Mafia body-disposal vats. Now it also comes in 12-ounce cans.

Neon green drinks like The Dew use citric acid for that characteristic tooth-enamel-stripping "tangy bite". Contrarian drinks like Coca Cola and Pepsi use phosphoric acid, but the result is the same. Because of their acid content, all these concoctions have a pH of around 3, which in science lingo is "very acidic".

Think serious rodent killers.

Safe to swallow? Not to worry. Your stomach and intestines are built to withstand a variety of acidic digestive juices and industrial chemicals. For a hungry backpacker with a healthy digestive tract an occasional Mountain Dew with its corrosive acid load is probably not an issue.

Especially if the stuff you swallow contains a partially-gelled mouse carcass, which acts as a natural buffering agent. The residual, undissolved fur may even help clean your teeth.

Remember, "It'll tickle yore innards" is not just idle advertising drivel, which so many had assumed up to now.

What else could possibly be true?

More:

How Long Do Mafia Victims Take to Dissolve In Acid? >

Can Mountain Dew Really Dissolve a Mouse Carcass? >

Got Milk?

Got cookies? Got ham sandwich? Anything?

Yogi-ing: Asking other hikers for food.

Yogi-ing: Hikers "yogi" when they cajole a non-hiker out of something they need or want without actually asking for it. Named after Yogi Bear of cartoon fame because of his habit of making off with people's picnic baskets.

Yogi-ing: Mooching food, a ride, or something else from locals or day hikers. To Yogi one looks pathetic enough so people will want to help. If you ask, it is begging and not yogi-ing. Also defined as the "innocent" or "accidental" theft of another hiker's food, snacks, or rare treats, especially while on tight rations due to the thief's poor planning. Sometimes the logic used is "you just left it there", or "I didn't think you wanted it", or "I thought you were done with it".

Yogi-ing: The art of "letting" food be offered cheerfully by strangers without actually asking them directly.

Yogi-ing: The art of getting other hikers, picnickers, or others to offer you food, drink or rides. It requires the hiker to communicate a need without actually asking for something. Limping, wistfully staring, or similar hints are allowed, but actually asking, begging, or stealing is not.

Yogi Bear >

Nibbly Bits To Be A Hit

Whether you want them to be or not.

Because resources are becoming scarcer, along with fresh clean water, and breathable air, we've decided to make the best of a bad situation.

Starting this week, in selected stores nationwide, we will be selling a new kind of backpacking snack food. We're calling it HikrNibbles.

What's in it?

Well, good stuff. It's all good. But mostly fish lips.

Decades of research into pet food has taught us a thing or two about what we can sell, and this is no exception. Design a colorful box, come up with a marketing plan, add salt, grease, assorted artificial flavors, and you have a winner.

Right now we're test-marketing fish lips to hikers, but this could go huge.

Right, you say to yourself, that's sounds pretty good, but I've never had fish lips and I'm not sure I want some, thank you for asking. But you would be missing the point.

This isn't about what you want, it's about what we can sell you. And how much we can charge. Fish lips are an untapped resource, up to now used only in low-end pet foods, and school lunch programs, and as fertilizer.

We think we can do better, and you can help.

Just try a few cases and see.

We're betting that before long you'll discover you can't get through even one day without having a box of our new HikrNibbles snack product within reach. That's due to our extensive market research, and a few "special" ingredients, which are all perfectly legal in some countries.

Enjoy the the mild smoky flavor, the salty tang, the way our fishy nuggets just seem to slide down your gullet. You'll keep coming back for more. And due to our "special" ingredients, we think you'll do that whether or not you want to.

Worried about sustainability? Don't be.

HikrNibbles aren't made from salmon, or tuna, or any of those other fish you've heard of. You know, the ones that are getting scarce.

Nope. We deal strictly in what the industry calls "by-catch".

By-catch or by-golly, there is more of this stuff than we know what to do with, and now you can eat it for us.

Whether you know what's in it or not, we are confident that our brilliant marketing research minds, honed to a sharp edge by years of selling to discerning pet owners from every level of society, have found a product that will keep your feet a-trompin' down that trail.

Just remember to carry an ample supply of HikrNibbles with you at all times to avoid any of those nasty "withdrawal symptoms", which are so easily avoidable. Just munch a bunch of nibbly bits.

Fido loves 'em too! $10 per 4-oz. pack. Practically no bitter aftertaste.

From In-Continent Foods.

More: Saving Salmon by Eating Them

Hazbro EZ-Bake UL

A new trail boy toy.

You aren't a girly man - you're smart!

When it crashed onto the scene in 2004 the TurboBoil Mach4 CookSystem looked majorly major.

Fuel-efficient, wind-resistant, trendy, costing less than a pair of snow tires, it took every backpacker's attention off that nasty hiking stuff and kept it stuck on salesroom shelves.

The TurboBoil Mach4 was a huge step toward hot soup anywhere. Before that, too many hikers wasted precious hours hacking at beer cans only to get feeble alcohol stoves that could barely warm up a dish of cat food.

But all too soon the TurboBoil Mach4 itself became dated. There was that whole retro "fossil fuel", 20th-century aspect. And all those half-empty fuel canisters in the closet. And so on.

Well, backpacking stoves have now hit the bigtime.

Ta Da!

Today Hazbro, maker of the revolutionary EZ-Bake Oven, has entered the backpacking stove market. You heard it right, folks. As of today, Hazbro is on our side, with a new backcountry cooker.

Now you can look anyone in the eye and say with pride, "I hike like a girl." Because you can have tasty hot meals wherever, whenever, without burning lunch, your beard, or anything else. And how many of your friends can say that with a straight face?

The EZ-Bake goes anywhere a TurboBoil, SnowPoke, or SRM WhiskerLite can go. And because it's all electric you don't need old-style fuel. Of any kind!

Fumble-fingered? No problemo. Without flames you have zero chance of setting even one national park on fire.

Can't cook? Another non-issue. Just take along a supply of HikrChow PreMix Food-Paks, add water, heat, and swallow. As often as you want.

Practically completely bug-free!

Each PreMix Food-Pak is safely sealed off from air, sunlight, bugs, rats, mice, toads, bush weasels, flies, and basically anything with an appetite. Except you! And your friends!

And if you're shy about carrying bags of batteries, just pony up a few extra bucks for a couple of ChargeMor Batry Paks. Fit one Batry Pak on each knee and store up those kilozots as you hike. When you're set to cook, simply plug one into your EZ-Bake and have at it.

OK, you're more traditional? Bring a few EZ-Cellz Baker Batrys, alkaline or lithium. Your choice. They work just fine.

Wet it! Heat it! Eat it!

Want toast? Use the optional EZ-Broylr attachment.

Bowl of hot soup? Use the optional LektriKoyl heating unit up top. Hot drinks are ready almost as fast as you can pour water.

And though the standard EZ-Bake is only cupcake-sized, it is quick. Really quick. Especially with Hazbro's HikrChow PreMix Food-Paks. Wet it, heat it, eat it. That's what we say.

You can have a whole basket of baked goodies before you know it. Great for entertaining.

Colors? The EZ-Bake Oven comes in SnowWhite, PrettyPink, or AmmoKammo, with or without sparkles.

Technical details:

• Size: 4x4x6 inches / 10x10x15 cm
• Weight: 6 oz. / 170 g (without batteries)
• Suggested retail: $19.95
• ChargeMor Batry Pak (each): 7 lb / 3.18 kg, 9x11.5x4 in / 23x29x10cm, 75.32 volts, 10 amps, $187.59
• EZ-Cellz Baker Batrys (each): 12 lb / 5.5 kg, 75.32 volts, 10 amps, $71.64
• EZ-Broylr: 4 lb / 1.8 kg, $187.43
• LektriKoyl: 1.5 lb / 0.7 kg, $93.26

HikrChow PreMix Food-Paks

• Fudgie ChocoLike Chip Cookie Circles
• SuprSugry ChocoLike Brownie Puddles
• Hot-N-Sweet Sugry Pretzl Chews
• GoopyChoco Snackie Pies
• Mak-N-Cheez-N-Syrup (Maypl, RazlBerry, Proon)
• FishyChips (with PynAppl chunks) *
• Sausage-N-Spuds (with RazlBerry topping) *
• CowMeat-N-Cabbage (with ChocoLike FlavrSprinklz) *
• GeneriChow (misc. animal parts and animal part byproducts with SparklSprinklz) *

* (Makes its own gravy!)

Great for slumber parties too! You'll never be a "has-been" with Hazbro.

Super Duper Ultralight Windscreen

Super! Duper! Foldable! Crinkly!

Aluminum (a.k.a. "aluminium" foil.)

My stove thinking appears to be so subtle that no one has ever asked me about my windscreen.

Stove and pot support (quiescent phase).

Most people, when they see my stove and cook pot, just stand there and drool, and not in a good way. None of them even understand what a windscreen is.

Anyone who has ever asked me anything about any of my equipment or how to backpack lighter has just ended up arguing with me about why it's not possible to do anything different than what they are already doing. This is yet another good reason to avoid people.

Still life with pot.

And those who do use alcohol stoves always have a big, clunky windscreen that leaves at least the top of the pot exposed, and usually a lot more. Leaving any part of the pot exposed wastes huge amounts of energy. But does this register with anyone? No.

I decided a long time ago that if I'm going to waste energy, it won't be by carrying more fuel than I need, it will be wasted on carrying beer. And I'm so cheap that I've never carried beer either, other than from the store to my car to my kitchen, where I guzzle it indoors, in private, away from flies.

Right off I want to say that my kind of windscreen is not the Absolutely Perfect Thing. She's in the other room and no, you can't see any pictures, so don't even ask. (Imaginary anyway...)

Folding foil's edges.

Fails:

• An aluminum (or "aluminium" for you kinky types) foil windscreen is horrifically sensitive to heat. Let flame lick it even once, and that spot brittles up and gets crumbly. Then you get a hole there.
• Folding, unfolding, refolding over and over will eventually fatigue foil, and then you get cracks and tears.
• It's easy to tear, even at the best of times, especially if you are a doofus.*
• Wind. She blows, eh? and can disappear your unwatched windscreen and carry it away for a hat.
• Not sexy. (But then, probably, neither are you.)

Done folding. All smooth.

Anti-Fails, Etc.:

• If you burn the inside of your foil windscreen you've made it too small. Make it bigger and try again.*
• I used one of these screens for 10 days straight, twice a day, and it was still working fine.
• Sure it's easy to tear. Get a life.
• Wind — so pay attention. Unfold the thing and put a couple of small stones on top while you're cooking. If that isn't good enough, you're a doofus and picked a dumb place to cook.*
• If it's not sexy then no one will come over and ask dumb questions while you're trying to cook supper and catch up on your scratching.

Finished, with ends stapled together.

How To:

I have a small pot. It's a 16-ounce (475 ml) aluminum measuring cup which cost $5.95. It weighs 1.8 oz (50 g). I use it to heat water which I pour into my feed bag, and while that's brewing up I heat more water for tea. That is, each hot meal is done in two steps: food and then tea. I let my stove burn out during "cooking", and then fill it again for the second burn (tea). After a while you get to know how much alcohol you need, so you don't waste fuel letting the stove just sit there and burn until you get tired of watching it.

I use standard 12-inch wide (305 mm) foil, either standard weight or heavy weight. (Who cares anyway?) Using three layers is generally right. The finished screen weighs around an ounce (28 g), depending on weight of foil and how much gets used. I've tried 4-ply screens, but they're heavy-ish, and don't really add any noticeable durability. I usually carry one screen to use (can last up to two weeks), and carry a spare, maybe even a 2-ply screen.

I shoot for an approximate diameter of eight inches. Figure you'll need around 3.25 times your target diameter when you measure out the foil. So if I need a screen eight inches in diameter, I measure around 25 inches and end up about right. More is way, way better than not enough.

Lots of room inside.

The counter top where I live is about the right width, so I measure out the width, in foil, and then do it twice more, ending up with enough foil in one long piece to make a three-layer-thick windscreen.

Three layers gives me strength enough for at least a week's use, and is heavy enough to resist tearing, and the resulting screen is not quite so likely to blow away. I always carry a second windscreen in my possibles bag, and think in about 10 years have needed it once.

OK, so you have the foil measured out.

Now (using my measurements, for example) start with a 12-inch by 75-inch continuous piece of foil, then fold it over until you have a piece 12 inches by 25 inches, and three layers thick.

Next, fold the edges. I use about 1/4 inch, folded over, and then folded over a second time. This strengthens and smooths all the edges.

Top scrunched down.

After that, I take the side of a pen (or my thumbnail) and crease these folds to get them as flat and tight as I can.

The next step is to staple the two ends together, forming a cylinder. Done.

To use, put one hand inside, and use your other hand to fold about 1/5th to 1/4th of the cylinder over on itself (see photos), leaving as small as possible a hole in the top to serve as a flue. Too big a hole and you get wind blowing in there, and the hot gases leave too fast.

Put water in your pot, fuel in your stove, light the stove, put the pot on its stand, and carefully lower the windscreen over it all. Wait until the stove goes out.

Since you can't see anything, you can (cautiously) move your hand over the flue hole to judge whether heat is coming out, and how much.

How it looks while running.

This windscreen has several cool aspects:

First, it blocks the wind better than other windscreens, because it covers everything.

Second, heat inside the windscreen reflects off its sides and top and bounces back into the cook pot, increasing efficiency.

It folds up to almost nothing, in whatever shape is handy at the time.

It's cheap and easy to make.

It can be as light or heavy as you want.

Once you are done cooking you can simply leave the stove and windscreen undisturbed until you are ready. I cook tea this way, and it stays hot for 10 or 15 minutes. Covering the top hole after the stove goes out adds to heat retention.

You can control how much air gets in at the bottom by putting a couple of small stones under one side, or by crinkling the foil at the bottom. If setting up on sand you'll need to do this to assure that the stove has enough air. Basically, you never have to worry about the stove getting too much draft.

Folded for carrying.

When I'm done, I fold the windscreen and wrap it around my cook pot. When using a larger pot I have room enough to put it inside. With the cup I use, I get the stove and pot support into it, but there isn't enough room for the windscreen, so this is a minor annoyance. This particular cup does not have a lid either, so I use another piece of foil.

The main items to watch are that the stove flame does not touch the windscreen, and to be careful folding and unfolding. Other than that, this is fairly doofus-proof.

Warning 1: Anyone trying this MUST use a reflector under the stove. More aluminum foil is fine. Without a bottom reflector, I've set the ground on fire more than once (back in the old days), and besides that, using a bottom reflector increases efficiency even more. You get a huge amount of heat bouncing around inside this thing. I've also, when cooking with the stove on a flat piece of wood, set that on fire too, so watch it. Always use a reflector under the stove.

Warning 2: Be extremely careful about touching this windscreen while the stove is burning. In time you learn which parts MIGHT be safe to touch, but parts of it are always insanely hot when the stove is running.

* If you are interested in attending my new professional doofus training, give a hoot.

 

---

See tabs at the top for definitions and books.
Have extra info to add?
If the commenting system is out again, then email sosayseff@nullabigmail.com
Me? So clever. So very, very clever.

Occasional Definitions: Dehydrator

The ideal

Dehydrator: A desert.*

Typical small-scale food processor

Dehydrator: A small machine used in the home to reduce healthy, well-adjusted fruits and vegetables into little bits of hard plastic so that they can be carried far into the wilderness where they are found to be completely inedible, indigestible, and are discarded.

The actual

Dehydrator: A person who either creates deserts or tortures vegetables with one of these machines.

After-dinner wobblies

Plans for making your own

* All natural, folks.

From: Fire In Your Hand About ultralight backpacking stoves. (print)

PDF: Fire In Your Hand (The same, but now paper-free.)

.