Every year campfires get out of control. Every year thousands of acres of public and private lands are destroyed. If campers would take just a few minutes to learn about campfire safety and would apply a little common sense, it would significantly reduce the number of wildfires and the amount of damage to our forests, recreation areas, and wildlife refuges, and it would also save lives. In some cases, using common sense around your campfire might save you some discomfort too - just ask my friend Rick.

When we were in our early twenties back in the late Spring of 1974, my buddy Rick and I decided to take a week off from the civilized world and backpack to an old Spanish copper mine about 8 miles into the Big Dominguez Canyon, to prospect and gather mineral samples to peddle to rock shops for cash under-the-table. The plan was to stash whatever minerals and flower gold we found and return for it later in a Jeep. We had made this rugged trip several times in an old Willys Jeep, but this time we thought we would take our time and hike into the canyon and look for mineralized veins and work some sand bars and abandoned stream beds with our gold pans.

The old Spanish mine where we planned to camp was part of a mineral claim owned by both the father and uncle of our friend Floyd. Chiseled into a large boulder, near the mine entrance, is the name Luis and a date from the late 1700s, but it has been so long since I‘ve been to the mine that I don’t remember the exact date. The date is probably authentic, because the inscription was well weathered and had been carved deeply into the rock face by a skilled hand.

We crossed the Big Dominguez Creek several times our second day in the canyon, panning sand from the outside bend of the stream and from the abandoned channels, looking for a little color, but with no luck. Instead of the flower gold we had hoped we could get from the canyon, all we got for our day's efforts was our boots filled with sediment and our pants soaked from the waist down.

With the afternoon slipping away, we headed back to camp and built a campfire and cooked the last of the hamburger and some potatoes for our supper. It was a moonless night, so Rick threw an arm load of wood into the campfire to give us some light, then we kicked off our boots and socks, setting them on the stones by the fire to dry. Since we had gotten up early that morning, we decided to sack out early.

After eating, I grabbed my boots and socks and crawled into my tent, but Rick just threw his sleeping bag next to the fire and left his boots where they were, close to the flames - too close. I told him that he should move his boots so the leather wouldn’t dry too fast and shrink, but he just grunted and threw some more wood into the already blazing campfire. By morning, Rick's sleeping bag was dotted with smoldering holes, his socks were ash stains on the rocks, and his boots’ uppers had burned away, leaving just the curled up and slightly charred soles.

The 8 miles we had hiked into the rugged Big Dominguez Canyon was actually more than 8 miles when you consider all the side-to-side and up-and-down travel we had to do, but it was still an easy trek, especially in a good pair of boots. But because of the cactus and sharp rocks found everywhere in the canyon, hiking in you bare feet is not recommended. And the idea of me hiking out alone to get the jeep was out of the question, because there was a locked gate at the bridge over the Gunnison River, which was at the canyon’s mouth, and we didn't bring a key.

Rick had two clean pairs of socks with him, but of course, two pairs of socks would be no protection against rocks and cactus. Fortunately, I have a habit of packing duct tape; plus, I had several pairs of socks. First, we bent over the nails sticking through the boot soles. Rick then put on two pairs of socks and placed a pair of socks on each of the soles for cushioning. With two more socks placed on top of his feet, one sock on top of each foot to protect against chafing, we duct taped the boot soles to his feet and around his ankles.

After completely extinguishing our campfire, we headed for the Jeep.  It was a slow, uncomfortable walk out of the canyon, uncomfortable for Rick, but we made it back to the jeep in the wee hours of the morning, using flashlights and then candles when the flashlights’ batteries were drained. We had to reapply the tape twice, but we had plenty. Somehow, Rick had been able to avoid the cactus, but he stubbed his toes at least two dozen times.

Although Rick and I had been camping since before we were old enough to walk and thought we already knew it all, we learned (at least, I learned) some valuable lessons about being prepared and about campfire safety. I now try to have a pair of sandals or tennis shoes with me when I am out for any length of time. And more importantly, I learned to keep campfires small and keep anything that might burn well away from the flames. I'm not so sure Rick learned the same lessons about campfire safety, because two weeks later he caught the back of his pant legs ablaze at a raging bonfire.

(2008 © Steve Griffith, www.Coleman-Camping-Equipment.com, All Rights Reserved)