The native australians, I think, had a saying for this - “He is dreaming of the fire” or something like that.
I like a bonfire as much as the next guy, but only if the fire-tender knows what it’s all about. No smoky, wet wood or pine, lumber, treated wood, garbage, tires, etc.
Nope, just drift wood, seasoned kindling, or seasoned wood here…no chemical crapola.
We used to have bonfires next the railroad tracks under the highway. For some reason, there’s a big pile of wooden shipping palates off in the woods. We haul a few out and light 'em up. Palates are great because they’re already in the perfect configuration. No silly teepee balancing act w/ the sticks. We’d sit on the rails and just watch it burn.
They would regulate wet dreams here in Massachusetts if they could. January 15 - May 1 is the strict burn season for clearing fires. You have to go to the fire station the day you want to burn and ask for a permit to fill out. However, it isn’t that easy. The fire chief of every town decides each day whether burning is allowed or not. Oddly, the only days you know it is approved is when it is pouring rain so I do that too if I have to. If you carefully read the regulations, you will find that almost all fires are illegal if they choose to interpret something a certain way which they have with me a few times. Fires can be started at 10 am and have to be out “cold” by 4 pm. Now, this is physically impossible for the size of the fires I light. I have sprayed some of them down for an hour without making them truly out. That is a big point of contention.
There is a hyper-vigilant Sparky that lives about a mile down the road and terrorizes both me and my neighbors on each side that do the same stuff I do. The worst was last year when we had some land bulldozer cleared to make new lawn. I had these huge pine logs that were sitting around for 5 years. I tried to build a fire about 8 feet high and 12 feet wide with them and some assorted other trash wood. It had rained for a few days and the wood was wet and mostly rotten. I tried to light it in the morning with diesel fuel with no luck so I just left it. It gave a whimper of a smolder all day. At 11 pm that night, I hear sirens followed shortly by a frantic knock at the door. The Sparkys were in pursuit. I put on my clothes and offered to run a hose out to the pile and soak it which I did. After 5 minutes, they determined heavy ammo was needed in this case so that called a ladder truck and one of their smaller firetrucks with as many flashers as they could find turned on. I am not kidding when I say that at least 30 firefighters showed up for a smoldering pile of wet wood in the middle of a huge patch of bare dirt. I think that they just wanted to have a party because I got pissed and just went back inside without saying anything. They hung out for about an hour playing with their toys and eventually went home sometime (I went to bed).
Be thankful of where you live.
I recently found out that the cheif of the Sparky’s here is an old highschool buddy of mine who I haden’t seen in damn near 18 years. We had a chance to catch up recently…So hopefully they will never get called to my house…as the sparky station is only 1.3 miles down the way.
I love a good bonfire, especially when it means I can get out to do some firespinning and stuff like that. OK, so I could do firespinning any time but it’s more fun when there’s a proper bonfire to do it with.
We don’t have a firepit in the wilderness we lovingly call a garden but some time soon we have to start clearing it out again and when we finally get to the point of landscaping it, there will be somewhere special for a fire to happen.
We used to have an annual Open House for the public at our facility, which meant weeks of preparatory work for the staff. Afterward we’d clean up and, around dark, begin the private “winding down” party. One of the principal objectives of this party was to be sure all of the beer kegs were empty before they were returned.
All year long we saved up cleared brush, packing crates, lumber scraps, and anything else combustible in a pile “out back”. One year the pile was bigger than a two story house. We lit it off and the fire was so intense that we had full color vision more than 200 yards away. It was a beautiful thing! Until about 20 minutes later, when four fire trucks, six police cars, and half of the local news media roared into our driveway. Our little bonfire had been reported by drivers on the interstate (more than a mile away) as a “structure fire”.
They decided that they just had to kill our buzz and our fire. None of the fire trucks could drive into the field with the fire, so they called for a 6 wheel drive all terrain monster they used for forest fires. When it arrived, they pumped its 800 gallon tank of fire foam onto our little baby. It had zero effect. So they called for the tanker truck, refilled the pumper, and sprayed another 800 gallons, to virtually the same effect.
By now we are more than two hours into this fiasco. The teeming horde of firemen, cops, and media goobers have pretty well killed all attempts at partying. Everyone is sobered up and all we want is for all these damn people to leave. So I have them refill the pumper yet again, and lead them into the field in my big ol’ front end loader. I push dirt and stir the fire pile while another 800 gallons of foam are poured onto it. Eventually they get it down to embers and coals. I think they were tired of it all by then too, and intimidated to boot, and they finally leave.
The next year we divided the big pile into several smaller piles. And spoke with a fire fighter friend for advice. When the inevitable happened and the screaming horde with lights and sirens roared into the driveway, I was ready. I walked out to the second fire truck, went to the passenger side, and told the Lieutenant in charge (that was where I was told he would be!) “The fire is fully contained, and it is in burn down” in an authoritative voice. He seemed quite pleased with that, perhaps recalling the previous year. At any rate, he got on his radio, and five minutes later our driveway was cleared.
Ah, bliss! And a nice bonfire.
Since then we’ve moved, and haven’t been able to build such spectacular fires again. Too bad.
“Oddly” appealing?
Nothing odd about the appeal of bonfires. I’d invite you to google images for “fallas” and “hogueras de San Juan”. I’m not fond of firecrackers, but any excuse to jump over a bonfire is a good excuse.
Cool. I had no clue what that meant, so I read a little and it sounds like fun.
http://www.reference.com/search?q=fire%20spinning
I love cowboy t.v. We have a small pit in our backyard (we live in the city but our backyard is secluded enough to dodge the hall monitor…er Code Enforcer) I also go to a friend’s house a few miles away where she can have a massive fire.
It’s so nice to sit outside at night, dogs are running around playing, beer is flowing, brats are being gnoshed and funny stories abound.
I like them a lot when other people have them, and I like them enough that I will have one occasionally, but it’s a lot of work and because of the potential danger, I get very anxious about it when it’s my responsibility. This is probably a personal psyche thing - my father was burned very badly (when he was a child) by an improperly tended beach bonfire. Fire safety looms large in my family.
I love 'em. I even enjoy setting / tending them. Unfortunately all fires in town need to be in a screened container (at least that is whet the guy at the fire station open house told me) So my fire activity of late is limited to camping.
Brian
Out in the country, where there’s lots of room, sure. They can be fun.
In the city, no. Backyard fire pits are allowed in our city, and I’d like to see them banned. We live in a neighbourhood of frame houses, and I worry about sparks flying on the wind if the fire gets too big. So far, the neighbor’s kids have nearly burned down the fence between our houses during one of their drunken parties; I figure it’s only a matter of time until the lack of parental supervision (the parents spend many summer weekends out of town) plus alcohol plus twenty or so drunken teens equals an out-of-control conflagration that threatens our house.
My husband and I have a “campfire” almost every weekend all summer. Everyone brings the kiddies over and we cook supper on the fire then enjoy far too many smores. By 1am there are usually 10 adults left sitting around the fire enjoying the last of the beer. We have had some big fires.
Last year we had a badminton tournament by campfire light. Unfortunately, we also have an over eager police department. Around 1am, a cruiser pulled into the driveway. Frog prince went over to talk to the officer and she told him burn season was over, we needed to put our fire out. He politely informed her our fire was not open burning, it was a campfire built to cook supper. No matter, she wanted it out. We agreed not to add any more wood, and we would watch it until it was out.
2am comes and another cruiser pulls up the driveway. This one much pissier than the first. He wants to know why we felt we could ignore his partner and not put our fire out. We explained that we hadn’t added any more wood and we were just watching it until it went out. Not good enough. His boss said burn season was over, and if we didn’t put out the fire, the fire department would be happy to do it for us…and send us the bill. :eek:
We tried to explain it was a cooking fire, (we had left a potato wrapped in foil on the edge to cover ourselves) not open burning to no avail. He stood in the driveway and waited until the fire was out. Since then we have printed a copy of Massachusetts general laws regarding campfires, laminated it and posted it next to our fire pit.
Bonfires are great fun, except when some inebriated boob tosses a beer keg into the fire. Awshit ensues.
or how about those sparks when they (drunken adults who should know better) throw in christmas trees and firecrackers too.
Everyone loves bonfires. Not sure that this is up for debate. The bigger, the more, the better.
As a kid, I loved them. As an adult, they are just fires threatening to get out of control. It’s gotta be a BIG fuckin’ empty lot to make me comfortable with one.
Love bonfires…
I came up with a really cool new bonfire activity to amuse the kids at the last one I went to. We had some plastic gocery bags on hand and I made the short leap of imagination and thought “Hey, that would make a perfect hot air ballon”. Sure enough, we had a blazing fire piled high, narrow, and conical. I opened the bag and held it by the handles upside down over top of the fire and the rising rush of hot air filled the plastic bag in record time, then I just let go. Woosh, the bag flew about 45 feet into the air on the first try, rising with the hot air currents and gently floating back down well clear of the fire to be captured by the kids. Lather Rinse Repeat. We started to see how high we could get them to go and with the proper flame, filling time, and release we manged to get one to rise about 80 ft. It was so freaking cool and amusing, I could hardly believe it.
(Kids, do not try this at Home! Really, nobody should try this at home! It could be dangerous and I am not responsible for anyone trying to attempt this without proper precautions. This is anecdotal and not meant to be construed as instruction.)
They are fun, no doubt, but they aren’t environmentally responsible. Don;t want to be a spoilsport, but they add mucho pollution and Greenhouse gases.