He made it look easy. The fire bloomed to life almost instantly.
“That seems… almost too easy.”
“Yeah. Because we have nice dry fuel. After a heavy rain, it could be a lot more challenging. Just because it’s difficult to ignite wet moss and other damp tinder.”
“Can you use something dry that you’re wearing?”
“Yeah. You could try to use some fuzz out of your coat, orthe bottom of a shirt, or something. Definitely. Though that’s one of those things that isn’t an endlessly renewable resource.”
“Yeah. I get that. But remember, in my scenario, I am not having a long-term wilderness experience.”
“Yeah. I do remember that.”
The fire was just beginning to catch, and he stomped it out. Literally.
“No oxygen, no fire,” he said.
He squished down the last ember and then looked at her expectantly.
“What?”
“It’s your turn.”
“Well, you already burned all the stuff.”
“No. I did not burn all the stuff. You can go collect more.”
“I have to collect it?”
“Yes. I need you to choose it. I need you to show me that you were paying attention.”
This was easy. She remembered exactly what he had gotten, and so she went ahead of him, going off the trail at a slightly different spot than he had, collecting some sticks, putting them in her pack, which was smaller than his, so it was slightly more challenging, grabbing moss and pine needles, smaller twigs, and other things that she thought looked like they would make good tinder. She wouldn’t throw it all in at once. But she would have backup just in case it didn’t work.
Then, she turned and headed back out to the driveway, where she built a fire-starting area using the exact same steps that he had.
He handed her the same ferro rod that he had used, but she waved him off. She opened up her bag and took out her own.
Then she reclaimed her knife and took a deep breath as she began to strike the side of the rod.
And did not get sparks.
She did it gingerly, hating the sound of the metal on metal, and still, nothing.
“You’ve got to do it a little bit harder than that,” he said.
“But it feels terrible,” she said.
“Yeah. Well, metal on metal isn’t exactly music to my ears either, but you need to give it some force, because it has to have friction.”
“Okay,” she said.
She hit the knife blade against the rod again, and this time, there was… Still nothing. For a second, she thought she saw the tiniest spark, but if it had ever been there at all, it fizzled out almost immediately.
“This isn’t working. You made it look so easy.”
“It is pretty easy, but you just have to get the stroke right.”
“I don’t have the stroke right.”
