Oh, man -- you sure we didn't know each other in a prior life? My great uncle, whose idea of a vacation was to go keep camp for pack trip elk hunters for a month and a half every year, used to carry carbide. [For the uninitiated: carbide powder mixed with water produces acetylene gas, as in oxy-acetylene welding torches].

We got to a bad camp outside Coleman, Texas one really nasty night. Wet 20*, sleet, and lots of wind. There was an old school bus dropped there, shades of "Into the Wild." It had a cast iron pot sheep hearder's stove laid on a piece of oil field plate, and a bunch of wet wood laid up outside. Rastus [Rastus McIntosh - white man - given name - go figure, I never was able to find outwhy they named hum that] laid a good bed of kind of large kindling, said 'stand back, struck a match which he laid in the damp fire bed still burning, and sprinkled carbine powder on that semi-wet wood. I am surprised the cast iron stove survived. The fire lit. We got warm. I don't have the cajones to carry carbide powder.