It was fairly early in the evening when we arrived back at the campsite after hiking  with all of our gear for about one kilometer from the parking lot.  Setting up camp in the rain and the dark was accomplished with a minimum of bother but getting a fire going took a bit more effort than we had expected.

     The Parks Service usually keeps a woodpile available so that campers don't go off cutting down trees for firewood but as there hadn't been very many campers over the Winter, the wood in the disjumbled heap had been there since our last trip in October.  The wood in that pile was about as waterlogged as it could possibly get!  As "responsible" campers, we would not consider cutting any of the trees, so this was the wood that we had available for a campfire and cooking.

     At least two of us in the group felt that we were fairly good at getting a fire started and it did start several times but that wood was thwarting our best efforts to keep a fire going. It was cold, dark and wet and we were determined to have a campfire.

     Four of us carried camp knives and we set out to whittle cedar shavings to fill the base of the three foot diameter, wrought iron fire pit to prepare a bed for our kindling. We whittled for almost two hours before we felt that we had a sufficient supply of shavings.

     We laid our kindling and made a pyramid of split cedar to catch the flame.   A couple of pieces of crumpled  dry newspaper thrust deep into the pile completed our preparations and we all held our breath as the flame from the lighter gradually went from the paper to the shavings and kindling. Additional kindling was added to the interior to keep a hot zone going to try and dry out the wood of the split cedar pyramid.

      As this wood gradually became more combustible it gave off a LOT of steam.  Eventually the larger pieces began to burn and we had something beginning to resemble a campfire.  The bed of shavings had helped to create a bed of coals that kept the interior of the firepit hot and dry.

     One of our group, (Cameron) took it upon himself to keep a central core of fire going so that we could continue adding larger pieces to dry. Cam sliced thin slabs of cedar which he took to calling wafers and he would add these as he felt necessary.

     It was Cameron who gave our campfire the name of Baby. He would talk to the fire and tell it (and us) that he was feeding Baby wafers. The rest of us were kept occupied by bringing more wood from the pile and splitting it into useable sizes.

     You might think that we had a bonfire by this point but what we had in actuality was a mounded pile of wood in the pit that had small tongues of flame licking through the openings of the wood. The flames were welcome but the greater amount of heat was generated by the billows of steam coming up from the wood that was drying out.

     It had continued to rain on us throughout this time and the outer layers of our clothing were soaked.  I don't remember which of us was the first to stand on top of the wood mounded in the firepit, but we were soon all taking turns standing in the "campfire".

     It looked very strange to see each of us enveloped in steam, sparks and smoke as the small flames rose up at our booted feet. It looked like the initiation ceremony of some demented cult holding their pagan rituals in the rain soaked woods.

     We started making up stories about "Baby", suggesting that the firepit contained the malevolent, vengeful spirit of an Indian, savagely murdered by drunken loggers on that spot back in the days when the park had been a center of logging activity.

      We imagined that this spirit could now enslave the minds of unsuspecting campers who lit a fire on the anniversary of his death when there was a full moon. That with each new chunk of wood that was burned, that Baby grew stronger and would exert it's influence farther until it controlled the minds of the people in the towns nearest the park who would bring offerings of wood and stand unburned upon Baby's flames.

      With the continual effort that we had to provide to keep that fire going, ( and considerable assistance from forty ounces of rum), this didn't seem like such an unplausible idea at the time but we did express the hope that if lines of towns people did start showing up, that they would start to bring some drier wood (and maybe some more alcohol). At the very least, we thought that Stephen King should write a horror novel using this as a story line.

     Later camping trips have provided me with the opportunity to recount the tale of "Baby" (with a few embellishments) and how we were able to escape it's mind controlling influence to a mix of appreciative and skeptical listeners.

     About 11:00 of that first night, the rain stopped for awhile and the full moon rose over the mountains surrounding the lake.  There was a lot of mist coming off from the water and some of us decided to go for a walk to see the lake by moonlight. The scenery was exceptionally beautiful and we noticed that there was an extraordinary ring around the full disk of the moon.

     We returned to camp and encouraged the others to join us in checking out this phenomenal sight. We lost track of time but eventually someone suggested that we should go back and check on the fire to make certain that it hadn't gone out.

      When we got back, the fire had burned quite low but it was much easier this time to get it built back up again. We had the knowledge and the technology! We were also more than a little bit paranoid about letting that fire go out over night. We stayed up all of that night, carrying wood, standing on rounds of wood and rolling them with our feet to the campsite, chopping wood and feeding Baby  while taking swigs from that bottle of rum and another of whiskey. By morning we were covered in dirt, mud and grime from all of our efforts.

      There was still a dock out into the lake that year. I decided that I wanted to be a bit cleaner and went down to take a dip in the lake. We could see a boat coming in our direction but it was a long way off at the far end of the lake and I figured that it couldn't arrive before I had completed a brief skinny dip.

       I removed my clothing and jumped off the side of the dock into the VERY COLD, icy water of Alloete Lake. Any intention that I might have had of staying for any length of time in that water was INSTANTLY gone! But there was no way to climb back up unto the wet slippery dock. I had no choice but to swim for shore and try to make my tender freezing feet walk on those painful stones in the lake and on the shore.

       As I managed to get back onto the dock we noticed that the boat that was approaching was the Park Service motor launch and it was coming in quickly. The others in our group were laughing at my wet, cold, naked condition and brought me my clothes to put back on.  Not bothering to put on the underwear, I quickly redressed just in time as the boat pulled up to dock. We greeted the rangers as nonchalantly as our drunken condition would permit and we gave thanks to Baby that we were not challenged by them about our state of inebriation. When we returned to camp, I threw the unworn pair of underwear unto the campfire as an offering to Baby for the protection but that was the last skinny dip that I did on that cold March camping trip.

      Baby was kept burning for five days and nights by taking turns at keeping it alive. It continued to rain throughout our stay in the park but we had a very large tarp to keep the rain off from our tents.  We had to keep adjusting the tarp to prevent a major water buildup but we soon learned the best way, (after a few mishaps)  We also made run off channels so that most of the water flowed through and around the campsite.

      There were a few other campers who braved the cold and the rain that week in March. Some of them came to us to use part of our fire to get their's started. One small group of teenage boys sheepishly informed us that they had remembered to bring everything but an axe. They did borrow ours but we noted that although they told us they planned to stay for a few days, that they had packed up early and were gone by morning of their first night.

      Last year the Parks Service removed the firepits and declared the North Beach campground to be a permanent no campfire area. They legitimately have had concerns about less than responsible campers who have built fires under the trees and on the root systems where this shouldn't be done. I am as concerned as they, that this beautiful park not go up in smoke because some camper was careless with fire. I also regret the loss of having a cheerful campfire on nights when we are camping there. We have camped there at different times of the year for more than 14 years now and we may decide not to go there to camp again just because we can't have a campfire.

     Whatever we decide, I will remember "Baby" as my favorite campfire.