Camping Is Intense IV -- Campfire Cooking

On Saturday morning I made eggs-in-a-bag for the STP and me on the woodstove in our yurt. 

On Sunday morning the STP was not on the mountain and I ate poptarts with the Goob and bummed hot water for my hot chocolate.





I saved my mountain man jumbo eggs and two pounds of bacon for Monday morning.  Because the best thing about the campout is breakfast cooked over the open fire by the wonderful camp cook.  But the wonderful camp cook was not feeling well at breakfast time on Monday so everyone had to cook their own breakfast.  As I am not much of a cook in my own kitchen and I can't remember the last time I fried an egg, I was not going to try dippy eggs while bending over a campfire griddle in front of curious onlookers.  So the STP stepped up to cook my breakfast.  The bacon was blackened and the super eggs looked like this:

Note: Do not click on this picture to make it bigger.  Trust me, it is not pretty.

One of the 9 year old onlookers said,  "That's why I always let my mom cook."  My mom taught me that if I didn't have anything nice to say, I shouldn't say anything at all.  And I couldn't come up with anything nicer than that, so I quietly ate my eggs (and fed my bacon to the SLD).