I’m planning some upcoming adventures, the details of which cannot be revealed right now unless you have the proper security clearance. And even then we would need to whisper in code, using Navajo, under the Cone of Silence.
So be patient. All will be revealed in due time.
Meanwhile, in preparation for these adventures, the Laboratory is beginning to look like Q’s research and development department in the James Bond films.
My newest gadget is a Mini Trangia 28-T stove. Actually, it’s a stove and a cookset. It’s not the fanciest stove you can buy, nor does it have the highest performance. What it has going for it is that it’s small, lightweight and you can buy the fuel anywhere and in small quantities. It’s perfect for extended trips on a (REDACTED) from (REDACTED) to (REDACTED) to (REDACTED).
The entire package, not counting fuel, weights about 12 ounces and is extremely compact. Everything packs inside an aluminum pot with a non-stick tiny frying pan serving as the lid.
Here’s the cookset unpacked. From left there’s a pot, frying pan, windscreen, stove, simmer ring and, below the frying pan, the pot lifter.
The stove burns alcohol. You can buy denatured alcohol at a hardware store. A can is about $6 or $7, but is larger than I would want to carry on my (REDACTED). I found a 99 percent rubbing alcohol solution at the local Safeway for $1.99. It comes in a nice, smallish plastic bottle that would fit perfect on my (REDACTED). The more common 70 percent rubbing alcohol would also work, but with reduced performance. The point is that I can buy small amounts of fuel, for a small amount of money, almost anywhere. And it’s a clean fuel unlike gasoline.
If I was in a different state I could buy Everclear booze and take swigs of it as I filled my stove. Then again, Everclear is a dangerous beverage. After a few swigs I would probably roam around the (REDACTED) and (REDACTED) and (REDACTED). But why traumatize an innocent pumpkin?
I’ll stick to denatured alcohol, which you can’t drink. It will make you sick.
I ran some tests. Under perfect conditions, I can boil a cup and a half of water in five minutes. That’s a hot chocolate, a cuppa joe or some Top Ramen. I can boil an entire pot of water in about 10 minutes, which gives you an idea of what it would take to heat some stew suitable after a long day of (REDACTED).
Here’s me manhandling the frying pan. I can imagine myself sitting atop (REDACTED) frying up some flapjacks to fuel myself up before (REDACTED) to (REDACTED.) Sounds like fun, eh?
But before any of this happens, I need to do a few things, the least of which is to clean up the garage. It’s beginning to look like a McKinleyville meth lab, which my neighbors tell me it actually was a few years before I bought the place.