I’m an early riser. I take the early to bed and early to rise thing quite literally. Although of the three consequences of this pursuit…health, wealth and wisdom..I can testify only to the first.
Some of my most inspired thinking hits me right after my second cup of coffee..say around the 4:30 mark. And it was about that time, earlier this summer, that I was going thru some photos of our past trips to West Grand Lake, feeling quite sad that we did not make it there this year.
Part of that experience was of course eating campfire food, particularly breakfast. So it was during one of these caffeine stimulated moments that it came to me that even though we are not at Grand Lake Stream , a campfire breakfast is certainly not out of reach. Plus it would give me the opportunity to try out my new Coleman Coffee Percolator that was a Christmas gift to me from my in-laws from Searsmont. (Even though I didn’t receive it until April.) Christmas in April has a nice ring to it though, eh?
It wasn’t long before I had the campfire started in our pit…
Normally our fires are reserved for the evenings but there is something really special about the morning fires. I mean one can ward off the morning chill as easily as the evening chill, is that not so?
Relaxing by the warmth of the flames, I plan my strategy.
You see during our West Grand trips I’m out on the lake fishing for landlock salmon well before any of my companions have started to stir. And when the time comes that I head back to camp, the coffee pot has been put on the fire and breakfast has started cooking. There’s nothing like rounding a point and having a cooking campfire burning on the shoreline with it’s accompanying fragrances wafting over the still water of a wild lake.
Anyways..when my fire was deemed “just right”, the coffee pot goes on and soon starts to perc it’s little heart out, steam rising into the cool, morning air.
And finally, a cup of wood fired java, or in my case, more like muddy water. A bit weak perhaps but tasty just the same and served up in my favorite man’s cup with plenty of room for all four fingers.
With the coffee pot resting comfortably and warmly on a hot stone, it’s time for the bacon, the cornerstone of camp fire cooking. And the leavings from which ALL tasty things are made.
At last my campfire breakfast was done and ready to be consume-ated even though my eggs were a bit overdone..
Perhaps next time my camp fire will be located on the shores of West Grand or some little island in Penobscot Bay. And better still, it will be cooked by someone who actually knows what they are doing.