The Whole Garage Catalogue: Possibly The Ugliest Camp Stove In The Known Universe

Sunday, November 30, 2014

Possibly The Ugliest Camp Stove In The Known Universe

This Canadian Tire propane camp stove dates from the early 1960s, as far as I know.

I don't think it ever saw much campsite use; I recall it being the first stove we had in the kitchen of the Haliburton cottage my dad acquired when I was a boy.

The stove is as tall as it is because of the way the propane bottles reside in it.

That arrangement has the dubious virtue of making the stove as bulky as possible.

The air/fuel mixture is not factory calibrated -- the user has to adjust it by turning a split, knurled brass ring-nut on the fuel supply tube.

The stove does work.

But I think I'd prefer my old liquid-fueled Coleman stove any day.

I'm not sure what to do with it. My son has tried to unload it at a garage sale, with no takers.

I may salvage the brass fuel supply parts, and scrap the rest.

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Introduction

This blog is in honour of my deceased father, Nick Gaspick.

It sprang from what had started out as merely a post on my workshop blog, Rouge River Workshop. Here's my introduction to that post:

"My son has been clearing out my deceased father's garage, so he'll have a place to restore an old car, and he's been finding all manner of stuff. I've begun one post about an old woodworking vise that I mean to restore. This weekend, my son brought me four toolboxes full of items. As a small honour to my father, I'll 'catalogue' them in this post, in no particular order, little-by-little as I go through the boxes."

The nature of the post was for it to grow ever longer, and that can be dangerous. Blogger has some quirks that I've experienced in the past, and I was getting tired of always backing up the entire post so I wouldn't lose it should Blogger vapourize an editing session. I finally decided to make a full-blown blog with an index out of the post. Here it is.

I'll leave the original post as it is, where it is, but I'll bring over all the items in it so far as individual, indexed posts here as well. Needless to say, new material will only appear here.

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A Little About My Father:

My father emigrated to Canada with his family from Croatia at about the age of seven. His family took on a homestead up Sudbury, Ontario way, and made a living there through the great depression.

My father loved school, and yearned to continue his schooling past grade eight, but that was not on. He had to leave school to make a living -- trapping, mining, whatever. Eventually, he and his made their way to Toronto -- the big smoke in Canada.

My father was built like a brick shit-house; he was a sturdy guy, unlike scrawny me. My father was a guy who could clear an acre of Canadian bush before breakfast, have it tilled and planted before lunchtime, with the plants sprouting before dinnertime.

Jesus H. Christ!-- a guy like my father ought to have lived forever!