There’s something about a fire that makes a house feel cozy. Cold and snow outside, the flicker of a flame and warmth that fills up the house. It’s the ultimate winter scene of living in the mountains.
But in truth, it took me awhile to warm (excuse the pun) up to it.
As a kid growing up in St. Louis, we had a brick fireplace. Not that it did us that much good, except at Christmas. It was drafty, and seemed to draw in as much cold air as it did putting out warmth. We really only used it to make a fire on Christmas eve, which seemed counter intuitive. Wasn’t that the night Santa would come down the chimney? Seems like it would be pretty hard on him to get down with warm embers in the fire place.
One time we had an ice storm. Ice coated every blade of grass, every tree limb, and of course, every power line. Because it was so wide spread, we lost power for three days. While it wasn’t as cold as the Rocky Mountains of Colorado, it was still pretty chilly. We grabbed our summer sleeping bags and lined them up in front of our fireplace with a fire blazing. I don’t remember getting warm, but I do remember the thrill of camping indoors during winter.
I went many years after that before having to deal with building fires inside. At 25 years old, I decided to become a ski bum and move to Mammoth Lakes, California. Moving into a condo with another woman, I didn’t know the ways of mountain living. That included how to warm the condo during the very extended winter we had in the Sierra.
A huge black iron thing stood in the middle of our living room. In truth, it reminded me of something I’d seen in a one-room schoolhouse years back.
“That’s the wood stove. We heat the condo pretty much only with the wood stove. There are a couple of electric wall heaters, but that’s the main source of heat. Whoever gets home first from work has to get the fire going. It’s the same for whoever gets up first in the morning.”
What?
“We also have to chop up kindling every week. Then you’ll want to use the lighter logs first, and then stoke it with the hard wood before we go to bed. The hard woods burn slower.”
Oh God, this seemed complicated. I prayed I would somehow be able to get the fire started. She continued.
“It’s easiest to make a little teepee with the kindling and then add the logs after it gets going.”
But when she got the fire going that night, it seemed nice. It certainly heated up our condo well. This wasn’t going to be so bad.
Until I woke up the next morning. God, it was freezing. The stove had gone out, and it felt like it was 50 degrees in the house. I jumped out of bed and grabbed some clothes. Then I ran to the bathroom, turning on the little wall heater, then the shower. The hot water streamed down me, warming up my cold toes and fingers. Finally, I put on my clothes and went into the freezing cold living room. Make a fire? Screw that, I’m getting out of here as soon as possible and going to my car where there is heat.
There is no way I can survive this for an entire winter. But I did. I got an extra heated blanket for my bed. I laid out my clothes for the next day the evening before. And then I would go through the same ritual, sprinting to the bathroom, hot shower, and getting dressed. I dashed for the car, eager to start the heater.
It got easier as the winter wore on. What is it they say about your blood getting thicker? Or maybe I just got used to being cold.
No matter, now I’m a pro with cold mountain winters and wood stoves.
