It was the opening weekend of deer season last month; I was camping solo on top of a ridge, and it was time to dine. I needed to fire up my trusty, decades-old Coleman two-burner camp stove.
I had “strike-anywhere” matches, and if you believe that claim on the box top, you’re already in trouble, because they don’t always strike when stroked across any rough surface. I guess they just don’t make ‘em like they used to.
The strike strips on the side of the paper matchbox had either gotten damp or been used too many times, but fear not, because parked in the middle of my stove was “The Rock.” I’ve had this stone for some 35 years, maybe longer. The same thing happened back when we first met. At the time, I grabbed the nearest small rock and gave my wood match a swipe. Instant flame.
For the remainder of that weekend, The Rock was instrumental in firing up my propane stove, lanterns and space heater. So, The Rock earned a spot between the burner grate rails. It has traveled with me probably thousands of miles and hardly ever failed to spark one of those red-and-white-tipped wood kitchen matches.
Then, along came the more “environmentally friendly” green-tipped matches. They don’t work nearly as well, but The Rock eventually prevails.
The Rock is like a trusty sixgun. In a pinch, it’s ready for action. Beats me what kind of stone it is, but it has worked when other surfaces have failed, even other rocks.
And this brings us around to why I always pack a wheelgun in the backcountry. They work, whether it’s a single-action Ruger Blackhawk or a double-action Colt or Smith & Wesson. On this particular weekend, a Model 57 adorned the holster on my hip. Extra cartridges filled the loops on my belt, so in an emergency, I’d have the ability to crank off six shots and pull reloads immediately.
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