The Fire

Starting a fire. 

You have the cabin in the woods, all the great snacks purchased. Something good to drink and someone to enjoy it all with.
You arrive at the cabin just as the sun is setting over the magnificent view. With laughter and smiles, you both get everything inside. A quaint wood stove sits in a corner with a stack of dry wood in the wrought iron container. Kindling and paper wait there as well. 
You have seen all the survival reality shows, you have this. There's no need for worry, a full box of matches sits on a shelf above the stacked wood.
Crumple the paper, place some of the thin pieces of wood on top the paper, and two or three of the split logs on top. That's when you notice a piece of paper taped to the wall above the shelf.
Ah, the handle sticking out of the pipe is the draft. It has to be turned vertical to make this work right. Oh, and there's a handle under the stove that needs to be manipulated.
You have it now. With the dampers open and the stove door open, you strike the match, light the paper and close the door. Piece of cake. The flames flare upward, and the edges of the logs blacken.
But after pouring drinks and a few kisses to celebrate finally getting away, when you look again there are no leaping flames in the stove.
With a frown, you open the door and get inundated in a huff of smoke. No flames are devouring the wood, just glowing places here and there. Your fire hasn't caught.
Well damn! An hour later you are hunched over in front of the stove with the last match in hand. If the sucker doesn't catch this time, you'll have to resort to using twists of paper lit by the kitchen stove.
The miserable logs are charred all around the edges. How come houses and forests catch fire so easy when you can't get these logs to burn?
The thing with wood stoves and logs is more complicated than you realize. If the wood is wet in any way; either because it's green or has become damp getting it to burn won't be easy.
What kind of wood is it? Some trees burn better than others. No matter what type of wood you are using, there has to be a graduation up to logs. And you must have sufficient oxygen for the fire to not only catch but keep going.
Exhausted. Out of kindling and paper, you give up. The beauty of the stars and the person you brought along is lost in a cloud of partially smoldering wood.
Your great grandpa knew burning wood wasn't that easy. Watch those survival experts a little closer next time. They are joyous when the fire starts for a reason. It's not as easy as you think. 

 

A quaint little drinking village with a fishing problem. Homer, Alaska.

The thing about Homer is it's one of the loveliest towns in south central Alaska. Sorry, Seward, Valdez, and Cordova. You all have your beauty spots but inch for inch the city on Kachemak Bay is beautiful. The photo above shot just as the sun was coming up over the head of the bay.

I went down there with the express purpose of getting a better handle on the town and locations of things in it. A new series in brewing in my brain. Homer and the surrounding area will figure prominently in this one. And as I love traveling around Alaska, the lure of Homer was irresistible.

What looks like a dark shadow on the bay in the photo above is Homer Spit. It is a unique finger of land that juts out into the bay itself. There are a few spits in Kachemak Bay, but this one is by far the most well known. And I've watched it evolve over the last twenty or so years.

It has a marina. And if you have watched Deadliest Catch for any length of time you know one vessel calls Homes its home port. Now there is a tidal basin where you can fish.

The Salty Dawg, a famous drinking spot is on the spit. In the summer there are a few restaurants, and I found one that was open early for the fishermen and served the best breakfast. Yum.

And there is the beach. Long and narrow, it stretches almost the entire length of the west side of the spit. People do camp out on it. My love and I did so once. It was great fun.

And here you have the sign that tells you this is it, Land's End for south central Alaska.

On the other side of the road is the Alaska Marine Highway Terminal. One Sunday I got a notion and at 3 am took off for Homer. On finding that the ferry was in, I took it over to Seldovia. I paid extra for the truck, which was a good thing as it started to rain. The tourist season was over and not sure what was open; I needed a way to stay warm.
Below is a shot of the Seldovia dock and the MV Tustumena, fondly known as the Tusty. It was a fun trip. I made it home slightly before midnight, tired and happy.