Trangia

When I'm not writing about knives, guns, fishing, stupid politicians (almost a full-time job there), radio and other stuff, I can be found playing with camp stoves. Yes Virginia, collecting and 'fettling' with camp stoves is a thing, and grown men do it. I mean, why not? It mashes up two of the human male's favorite things - fire and food. Add a bottle of beer and you have the trifecta. I've been 'into' camp stoves since I was a Boy Scout, and that interest was fueled  (ha, ha) by books like Colin Fletcher's classic 'The Complete Walker'. I'm interested in anything that puts out a flame - from classic old Coleman two burner suitcase stoves to the modern ultra-light backpacking stoves manufactured by companies like MSR. 

I've written in this blog a few times about various stoves like the old Swedish self pressurizing brass stoves and single burner military stoves. I took a pause on this interest for a time, but a few years back, while camping with my wife, my interest was renewed. She was taking a nap one afternoon and I was puttering around the campground, and the thought struck me, "This would be a great time to play around with some old stoves". And just that quick, I was back into fettling with stoves ('fettling' is a quaint British term for tinkering around with something to fix it or make it better - a wonderful word that perfectly describes playing around with old camp stoves). 

Several months ago I made a huge mistake - I went down a discussion rabbit hole on the Classic Camp Stoves website (a very dangerous site for those who like to fettle) and learned about something I don't think I'd heard about before - cook sets made by a Swedish company called Trangia. I may have heard about them but never paid much attention because the stove part of the Trangia cook set is a simple (but ingenious) unpressurized alcohol burner. With the Triangia system you don't get a pressurized roaring flame, you get a silent, pokey, alcohol flame. I'd dealt with other alcohol stoves in the past - little more than a cup filled with denatured alcohol and a small pot stand. The performance wasn't impressive. But what Trangia did was interesting. They combined an improved and more efficient alcohol burner with a burner support and wind screen that improves the overall performance of the burner, making it a viable way to heat water and cook small meals. Now, Trangia didn't come up with this in 1980, or even 1960. The Trangia 'storm cooker' set was designed in 1951! This isn't a backpacking stove (although I'm sure more than a few were carried on backpacking trips). It's really more of a car camping or picknick cooking setup. 

The basic storm cooker sets consist of a burner stand and windscreen, two nesting pots, a fry pan and a pot grabber. Every set also includes Triangia's signature brass alcohol burner. Some sets also include a small tea kettle. Everything is made out of stamped aluminum, and Trangia offers sets in bare aluminum, a non-stick coating (like Teflon, but not Teflon), hard anodized aluminum or a unique material called duossal, which stands for 'dual stainless steel and aluminum'. This is basically an aluminum and stainless steel pot bonded together under immense pressure, so the cooking surface is stainless steel, but you get the better heat dissipation of aluminum on the outer shell. 

The plain aluminum cookset. Simple & well thought out

These sets can best be described as 'old world' and 'charming'. They harken back to an era when lunches were put into wicker baskets and loaded into the boot of the old Morris for a day of sightseeing along the ancient country roads of Yorkshire, stopping to eat lunch and brew up some tea and soup in the shelter of an old stone farmhouse while watching the sheepdogs move their charges from one field to the next, and wrapping yourself in a wool shawl as the cold mist settles in for the late afternoon. Yeah, OK, I watch too much Masterpiece Theater.

The storm cooker packs down into a compact nested set. It contains the burner base, 
windscreen/pot support, two bowls, a fry pan/lid, pot grabber and alcohol burner. If you
buy the optional kettle, it fits in there too

Trangia has been in business for almost 100 years The storm cooker sets were not their first product, but clearly they are the most successful. The design of the alcohol burner is clever and it makes the best use of the unpressurized fuel. It can easily boil water or heat a small frying pan in a reasonable amount of time. Not as fast as pressurized gas stove, but still fast enough and, like I mentioned, without all the noise and complexity of a pressurized gas stove. 

About the size of a biscuit. The burner includes a flame adjustment cap - simmer ring (left)
and a storage lid (right)

The alcohol burner set in the burner stand. The stand ensures good airflow to the burner

The windscreen set over the burner stand, which improves efficiency by
forming a chimney that blocks wind and funnels heat to the pot or pan 

Flame on! The alcohol burner in full roar (but there's no roar)

If the alcohol burner has a drawback, it's that it's either all the way on, or all the way off. Since it's not a pressurized system there's no valve to regulate output. You light the alcohol in the burner and it just... burns. There's no way to regulate the flame. Trangia does include a gizmo called a 'simmer ring' which doesn't work all that well. I only use it to extinguish the flame. But Trangia introduced something that I think fully reveals the genius of the system design. You can buy an iso-butane burner head that snaps into the hole that the alcohol burner normally sits in. This burner brings more heat, and adjustable heat, to the the storm cooker set. If  you've ever used a camping or backpacking stove you know that wind is the enemy of any stove. That's why companies like MSR and Optimus include flexible aluminum wind screens with each stove. These windscreens work, but they are a pain to set up. They are little more than heavy duty aluminum foil. The Trangia wind screen/pot stand is the best solution for this problem that I've seen. It's the wind screen/pot stand that makes the simple alcohol burner a viable cooking platform, but when used with the iso-butane burner the storm cooker becomes an incredibly versatile cooking system. You can boil water with a full flame, or simmer a stew with a low flame. Again, the pot stand serves as a chimney that effectively funnels the burner heat straight to the cooking surface. Add a camp oven (like the wonderful Omnia system) and you can even make rolls, biscuits, bread, pies and other baked goods. 

The Trangia 'snap-in' iso-butane burner significantly enhances the storm cooker set, making
it a platform for more complex cooking tasks

An additional trick with the iso-butane burner is the ability to use it with larger 1lb propane cylinders. The burner fuel line is long enough and flexible enough to allow it to connect to an upright 1lb cylinder. You'll have to buy a separate adapter to mate the burner connector to the cylinder, but they are inexpensive and available from several sources on Amazon. This means you have access to cheaper bulk fuel for longer cooking & baking sessions.

Running off of a larger fuel source means you can tackle larger cooking tasks like heating large
pots of water for things like pasta

To say that I'm impressed with the versatility of the Trangia system is an understatement. I own a lot of camp stoves and cookware, but no single integrated cookset matches the capabilities of the Trangia storm cooker. Would I carry it on the Appalacian Trail? No. Would I take it to a campground to handle regular meal prep chores in an old-fashioned, leisurely and non-fussy way? You bet!

Stay sharp!

What The H...?

Lately I've been eager to get a new camp stove.  Now, I'm neither a backpacker or a car camper.  My wilderness camping days are all but over - 23 years in the Army pretty much beats the 'camping bug' out of you.  However, I do very much enjoy being in the outdoors, hiking, fishing and just spending a day getting away from it all.  Part of that enjoyment comes in just sitting quietly, heating up a cup of coffee or a small lunch and enjoying the surroundings.

Of course to do all that heatin' and cookin' you need a stove.  Not a monstrous Coleman 3-burner, but a simple lightweight single burner unit that can be easily carried in a day pack.

I've owned or used almost a dozen small camping stoves over the years, everything from Sterno stoves to an uber-lighweight-yet-powerful-enough-to-melt-pig-iron MSR, and lots in-between.  But I've always had a weakness for the classic all brass Swedish camp stoves, the types made by Optimus and Primus.

These stoves received a broad introduction to American hikers through the writings of the dean of American backpacking Colin Fletcher and his classic book 'The Complete Walker'.  Fletcher waxed poetic about his little Swedish Svea 123, almost like he was describing an old friend.  He discussed the ritual of getting it primed and running, how the roar of the burner was a reassuring sound after a long hike in cold, damp terrain, how it was beautifully simple and a wonder to behold and how its utter reliability and ruggedness made up for its extra weight and bulk.

An Optimus Svea 123 at full roar!

As a kid Fletcher's works captivated me.  Not just 'The Complete Walker' but his epic 'The Man Who Walked Through Time' about hiking the length of the Grand Canyon in the early 60s.  In fact, I credit that last book for spurring me on to study geology in college.  Alas, dramatic vistas are few and far between in northwestern Ohio (one of the flattest places on earth - literally).  I had to contend myself with day hikes along the Maumee River or out to the many regional parks in our area.  To capture something of Fletcher's experience I went out and bought myself a Swedish backpacking stove.  I couldn't find one of his beloved Svea 123s but I did manage to locate a Optimus 80 at one of the local sporting goods stores.  I was delighted to have it.  It was a real.  Swedish.  Stove!  It exhibited all the fine qualities that Fletcher talked about - it was messy to prime, dangerous to pre-heat and while running roared like a jet engine.  But man, it gave off heat!  I loved it!

A 1950's vintage Optimus 80.
 Mine was considerably newer, but not much changed.

I used my Optimus stove right up through 1990 when, after taking it with me when my unit deployed for Desert Shield/Storm, the US Customs goons forced me to leave it behind in Saudi Arabia.  Only official issue gear that had contained gasoline was allowed to be brought back.  I was forced to give the old gal a burial somewhere just west of Dammam on the Arabian coast.  An ignoble end for a noble stove that had given great service around the world.  After that my focus shifted and I found myself buying a series of rather pedestrian single burner stoves, most of them Coleman.  They worked, but none of them had the grace, simplicity and personality of my old Optimus 80.  I always had it in the back of my mind that someday I would replace the Optimus with an identical model.

Fast forward about 22 years to today.  I recently got re-bitten by the Swedish stove bug.  I blame this damned website.  I decided it was time to go get myself a new Optimus 80.  Hah!  Little did I know that things had changed a bit in the Swedish stove industry.  Many - most - of the old shiny brass models were gone, done in by a raft of competitors that catered to the uber-lightweight adventure crowd with their feather light, whisper quiet titanium stoves that can burn everything from cow farts to bunker oil with CO2 emissions in the negative numbers.  Who wants a smoky, sputtering brass anachronism that was first produced when Henry Ford was in knickers when you can have something so Green that even the grizzly bears applaud (just before they eat you).

Only one classic brass stove survives - the Svea 123.  But alas, the realities of modern production economics have caught up with even that fine holdover.  It is no longer manufactured by stoic Swedes lovingly hand fitting each part while dreaming of lutfisk and reindeer, but by faceless hordes working somewhere west of Seattle.  I fear that there are no more classic Swedish stoves made in Sweden.

Still I had to push forward.  Dammit, I wanted a classic Swedish stove, even one that wasn't made in Sweden!  As always Amazon was ready and willing to entertain my desires.  Three days after I placed the order the stove was sitting in my car port.

The word on the various outdoor oriented forums is that these new 'eastern-made' stoves are good performers, perhaps every bit as good as the originals.  My experience with China made goods is that as long as proper quality control is exercised the Chinese can make some excellent products.  Think Apple iPads.  In fact, I've commented in this blog about the outstanding quality of some Chinese made knives.  It all comes down to production standards and quality control, and the Chinese have proven themselves more than capable of cranking out good products.  With this in mind I had high hopes for this 'Swedish' stove.

It certainly looks good, with 'Sweden' (not, you will note, 'Made in Sweden') and 'Svea 123' roll-marked on the shiny brass tank in pseudo hand engraved style.  The burner tube is just a little cockeyed but I've seen that on other Swedish stoves.  Firing up one of these little wonders is like riding a bike.  You never forget but if you haven't done it in a while you can be a little wobbly.  Dribble a little gas in the priming bowl, light it up and let it heat up the burner tube.  Once the burner tube is warmed up open the valve to let out some fuel, light it off and wait for the jet of flame to settle down into a nice, rolling roar.  Easy.

As this little stove was roaring away I noticed a ring of red material where the burner tube enters the fuel tank.  It looks like pipe dope or sealant.  It may have been put there to ensure a tight seal of the burner tube into the tank.  What was disconcerting, however, was that this red material was actually bubbling under the heat generated by the burner tube!  At first I thought the bubbling might be vaporized gas escaping from the fuel tank, setting the stage for a potentially dramatic stove flare-up (a gentle term for a fireball).  I shut the stove down and after it cooled I didn't detect any gas odor coming from around the sealant, but it was still a concern.

See that red stuff?  It was actually bubbling while the stove was running!

I posted my observation and concerns out on several camping and stove collecting forums and the general consensus is that nobody's ever seen this issue before.  Or at least nobody has ever noticed it.  Most feel that the original Swedish stoves didn't use a sealing compound.  The tapered brass fitting where the burner tube enters the gas tank provides a good enough seal.  So what's with the red stuff?  What the hell's going on with this stove?

I've got an information request submitted with Optimus.  Until I hear something back this thing will sit idle.  If Optimus' reply isn't some version of "Don't worry, that's just  how we build 'em these days.  It's safe to operate" then this stove goes back to Amazon and I start haunting eBay.