[at-l] Zip Stove

[Bob C." <ellen@clinic.net (Bob C.)]

I've  used  a zip stove for a decade or more. I have never carried fire starter,
mostly  because I like to keep things simple and so far I've never failed to get
my Zip going when I wanted to.

I  do  pick up bits of birch bark that fall from some birch trees or that I find
on fallen logs as I walk along. If some one has left an old newspaper or similar
grade  paper  in  a  shelter,  I'll  crumble  up  a half sheet and use that as a
starter. Otherwise dried cones from evergreen trees work pretty well, or a scrap
of resinous wood.

I  also  pick  up  promising fuel I find along the trail. On dry days, I tend to
pick  up the largest pieces I can find that have been broken by hiker boots. The
ideal  fuel  are wood chips created by an axe-yielding maintainer, but these are
rare these days. Also good, but equally scarce, are chips left by beavers.

Mostly,  I make do with dead branches found along the trail and around shelters,
and burnt ends and charcoal commonly found in shelter fire places. Long branches
can  be  broken into useable lengths by hand sometimes. But I tend to look for a
crook  in  a tree or a crack in shelter logs to provide extra leverage.

Once  a  fire  is going well, use the largest piece of wood, within reason, that
will fit the fire box.

All this sounds more complicated than it is. After a few days of experimentation
you will quickly learn to distinguish good wood from bad, and have fire starting
techniques down pat.

But  fire  from  natural  substances  found  in  the  forest will always be more
complicated  than manufactured fuels. I find the Zip best fits my cooking needs,
reduces  my  pack  weight  by  a  pound  or more, and eliminates the hassles and
expense of commercial fuels.

 With  my  Zip Stove I save the bother of constantly shutting down the flames to
 save  fuel,  avoid  the hassle of Cozys, enjoy a smoke smudge when the bugs are
 bad,  quite often boil water for use the next day on the trail, and never worry
 about a recipe that calls for 40 minutes of simmering.

 What's  not  to  like?  Blackened  pots,  smoke  that some find obnoxious and a
 somewhat  more  complex  learning  curve. Fire making is more art than science.
 Like most art, one gets better the longer one practices.

 Weary