There is nothing quite like an early morning cup of coffee cooked over a camp fire. So hot it burns your tongue and full of smoky goodness, it is happiness in a cup.

I get up early (5:30). It is peaceful and still. So far it’s just me and the birds and an occasional squirrel. It has rained overnight, so this morning coffee making poses a little extra challenge. Quickly, I realize I am unprepared. As this is the first trip of the season, I forgot to get the water, mug, coffee, etc. ready the night before. I don’t want to wake my husband so I creep out as quietly as I can and “make do”.

I scrape ashes in the fire pit and lay down cardboard scraps to make a dry bed. I find a few dry logs. Next comes my homemade fire starter…. Toilet paper tubes stuffed with dried lint. I forgot to collect sticks, so I dip into my fat quarter stash for kindling.

The damp wood is stubborn. It calls for my secret weapon…an old metal lid off of a discarded citronella candle. I wave the lid to generate a strong airflow and suddenly I have a flame. So far, so good.

Slow, steady burning generates hot coals. I place my trusty twenty-five year old pot directly over the flames. I’m not sure how it hasn’t caved in by now, but she just keeps perking.

Hard work done, I relax. I read, pray, and enjoy nature. This is only interrupted by emergency fanning to keep the fire from dying. Occasionally I have to use my fancy fire stick to rearrange logs (fyi any long thin branch works in a pinch).

Each fire is different, some mornings the coffee perks quickly, some days it takes awhile. Today was quick. So my coffee and I will enjoy the birds and the sunrise.

There is nothing quite like campfire coffee. I will cherish every minute until I drain the pot or other campers invade my glorious solitude, whichever comes first.