I can remember my grandpa telling about when an open fire was the only way you could cook outdoors.
Either wood or charcoal was used and on dry days that was usually no problem. 
I can remember, as a kid growing up in an outdoors family, my own dad pumping the “white gas” stove to get the pressure up before trying to light it.
I remember the flame balls that often shot up from that stove the first time a match came near it.
I am reminded of the story about two fellows who met about 5,000 feet above the ground. One was going up, the other coming down.
The guy that was falling yelled to the other as they passed, “Do you know anything about parachutes!?”
