From: jjh00@outs.ccc.amdahl.com (Joel J. Hanes)
Newsgroups: rec.backcountry
Subject: Re: Backcountry Coffee:  Heresy!!!!!!
Summary: Instant coffee: an urban legend?
Keywords: caffeine tea anecdote
Date: 15 Aug 92 23:50:05 GMT
Reply-To: jjh00@OUTS.ccc.amdahl.com (Joel J. Hanes)
Distribution: na
Organization: Amdahl Corporation, Sunnyvale CA


  jbl@mesaadm.cre.nt.com (JB) writes:
>
> Am I to infer from all the previous furor that I am the only trekker to
> use (oh God, do I dare say the word.....shudder) INSTANT coffee?????


You know, I've heard for years that just-add-water instant coffee
was available, and I've thought: "If that were true, wouldn't it
be great as a backpacking provision?"

Upon investigation, I found several products in my local supermarket
that claimed to be instant coffee -- but there must have been some
mistake.  I formulated each according to the package directions,
waited a second for the resulting brownish concoction to cool a bit,
tasted ...... nope, the stuff wasn't coffee, though it resembled
coffee slightly in color, and seemed to have some trifling
caffeine content.


For you caffeine hounds out there:  Celestial Seasoning's
hard-to-find _Morning_Thunder_ product is just the ticket
at the end of a strenuous day.  This blend of black tea and
South American yerba matte (sp?) has more caffeine than
many coffees, and a light, refreshing flavor, and doesn't
tie up one of your cooking vessels with grounds.  Carries
lighter than coffee, too.  I take coffee in the morning,
and MT at the end of the day's travel.

Look for the box with the lurid charging american bison.


   Unsolicited testimonial:  at the end of a _long_ day
   that began with a twelve-mile upwind lake paddle, then
   descended a Quetico river with many short portages,
   and after getting slightly lost, my party of six finally
   pulled ashore in a good island campsite:  grumpy, hungry,
   cold, sore, and out-of-sorts.  We threw some of the wetter
   gear out of the canoes, and stalked about on stiff legs,
   sizing up tent sites and grumbling.  As camp cook, it was
   my first evening duty to construct the early (before-the-fish)
   phases of dinner while everyone else pitched camp,,
   found firewood, and cleaned the day's catch.  On this
   particular evening, my companions seemed disinclined to
   hold up their end -- they sat about on rocks, or leaned
   against full packs, and bitched and moaned and took off
   wet boots to rub their feet, and they eyed me often with a
   mean, lean, and hungry look that liked me not.  The
   evening was coming on, the light beginning to fade,
   and I knew that some of the party were mutinously feeling
   that camping was Not Fun Anymore.

      I dug out sausage, hardtack, and cheese to
   hold off the pangs for a bit, and on a whim, boiled
   a pot of water and gave each a cup of Morning Thunder,
   and had a cup myself.  The change in attitude was
   wondrous to behold -- in five minutes time our spirits
   had lifted, ambition had returned, and they had retrieved
   the maps, and were eagerly planning a long day for the morrow.

      And then a sound of many wings, and we all sat perfectly
   still as a flock of a hundred or so Evening Grosbeaks
   flew across the clearing and into a tree in our midst,
   calling to each other gently, to flutter and hop from
   branch to branch for five minutes or so before departing.

     After a moment's silence, we got to our feet; camp
   was pitched in a twinkling; grubby voyageurs washed
   up and put on dry clothes.  Lake trout and walleye fillets
   crisped in seasoned cracker crumbs, with mounds of rice...

      the fire died down and the stars came out.

                  Loons

                        beaver splash


                                  vast stillness