Firepit Rehab
Posted: Sun Oct 21, 2012 8:57 am
If you like an evening of fire and smoke above 10,000 feet, your not gonna like this post. I am not a "do gooder" and certainly not looking for high fives. These moments of Karma are fleeting, heck, I blew by this ugly little scenario and didn't do a damn thing.

I was on a mission to get to Bench for the afternoon bite, and the only thought was, "what a Moron. Dude, have you not noticed the air pads at REI?"
Finally, I was at the trail leading to Bench and all was good in the world, and, no blisters! I took a picture of the sign. I always take pictures of signs on the trail no matter what it says or where. An obsession I guess.

With my new trekking poles, I flew into Bench and set up camp in an area that everyone else seems to choose as well. I noticed the fire pit, recently constructed. Oh, how nice, they even left a wood stash for the next camper in need of and evening blaze! I learned the same small courtesy many years ago as well.

I was mildly annoyed. After all, the sign did say "No Fires". As I walked along the shore, I saw big Browns cruising the banks and shallows, enjoying the easy pickings in sunny and warm windless conditions with supreme laziness and confidence that only Browns can do.

Nothing else mattered now. The rod was threaded and I was doing what I came to this lake to do, fish for Browns.
I fished until the sun, the bite, and hunger said go back to camp and cook a meal. I was cozy and even found time to play with my toys, including a new tarp tent from Gossamer Gear.

I didn't actually sleep in it, the weather was stunning, and why spoil the view?
The next day the bite was completely different, so I went back camp for breakfast. After three cups of coffee, I started to fixate on the fire pit and get pangs of irritation. The Starbucks caffeine was really kicking in now. I poked through the ashes, picked out the foil and threw rocks. I went from feelings of irritation to a full on destructive mood. I now realized the pit was coming down. I was solo and there was no one to hold me back or reason with me. After the rocks were gone, I flatten the ashes with my Vibrims, then mulched the area with pine duff. Nothing I could do about the boulder, I would need a sandblaster, or fifty harsh Sierra winters for that.

I settled back into camp, admired my handy-work, finished the oatmeal, then realized what a wonderful life it was at Bench Lake at that moment. No fire pits. Only me, the alpine views and Browns.
Oh, I forgot, I came to Bench to see this as well....

I was on a mission to get to Bench for the afternoon bite, and the only thought was, "what a Moron. Dude, have you not noticed the air pads at REI?"
Finally, I was at the trail leading to Bench and all was good in the world, and, no blisters! I took a picture of the sign. I always take pictures of signs on the trail no matter what it says or where. An obsession I guess.
With my new trekking poles, I flew into Bench and set up camp in an area that everyone else seems to choose as well. I noticed the fire pit, recently constructed. Oh, how nice, they even left a wood stash for the next camper in need of and evening blaze! I learned the same small courtesy many years ago as well.
I was mildly annoyed. After all, the sign did say "No Fires". As I walked along the shore, I saw big Browns cruising the banks and shallows, enjoying the easy pickings in sunny and warm windless conditions with supreme laziness and confidence that only Browns can do.
Nothing else mattered now. The rod was threaded and I was doing what I came to this lake to do, fish for Browns.
I fished until the sun, the bite, and hunger said go back to camp and cook a meal. I was cozy and even found time to play with my toys, including a new tarp tent from Gossamer Gear.
I didn't actually sleep in it, the weather was stunning, and why spoil the view?
The next day the bite was completely different, so I went back camp for breakfast. After three cups of coffee, I started to fixate on the fire pit and get pangs of irritation. The Starbucks caffeine was really kicking in now. I poked through the ashes, picked out the foil and threw rocks. I went from feelings of irritation to a full on destructive mood. I now realized the pit was coming down. I was solo and there was no one to hold me back or reason with me. After the rocks were gone, I flatten the ashes with my Vibrims, then mulched the area with pine duff. Nothing I could do about the boulder, I would need a sandblaster, or fifty harsh Sierra winters for that.
I settled back into camp, admired my handy-work, finished the oatmeal, then realized what a wonderful life it was at Bench Lake at that moment. No fire pits. Only me, the alpine views and Browns.
Oh, I forgot, I came to Bench to see this as well....