The first substantial snowfall of winter usually inspires me to read Jack London’s short story To Build a Fire. The storm that rolled through this past Friday and Saturday was no exception and I sat in front of my own fire to read this story once again.
I hadn’t previously noticed how many references there are to biscuits, but this time it resonated with me and reminded me of the Boreal Snowshoe Expedition I participated in at Jack Mountain Bushcraft School back in 2017. There was a moment on trail when we built a fire and roasted chunks of sausage for lunch. The subtle danger of remote wilderness and the excitement of cooking outdoors makes almost anything taste great, but there was something different about this meal. Desperation feels like too strong of a word, but there was an urgency and something like primal satiation in it that I haven’t experienced again.
The man in the story, before he realizes the gravity of his situation, reflects on the biscuits he is keeping warm against his skin inside his jacket.
“He smiled agreeably to himself as he thought of those biscuits, each cut open
and sopped in bacon grease, and each enclosing a generous slice of fried bacon.”
I think I understand why he is smiling despite the differences in our stories, and I imagine he would have felt the same way I did had he had the chance to eat those biscuits.
