MAKE A BUG

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For two years now Caryn and I have lived in a one-room log cabin in the forested foothills of southwestern Oregon's Cascade Mountains. It's half a mile down a footpath to our nearest neighbor, and another mile-and-a-half hike beyond his place to the point where we must leave our truck. Living somewhat isolated as we do, we must often cover the two miles of trail at night after visiting friends or upon returning late from a supply run to the outside world. Often, too, we'll stay the evening with Sonny—the old-timer down the hill—and have to trek home in the dark.

One night our first fall here, just after we'd moved into our rejuvenated cabin, we were about to leave Sonny's place. When I got out our flashlight, the old fellow kind of chuckled and said we'd be better off to use a "bug". Sonny has lived on his mining claim in these hills for 25 years, so he pretty much knows the best ways to get around . . . and I thought I'd better heed what he said.

"Bug", we learned, is the old-time term for a sort of simplified lantern: a can (roughly one-pound size) turned on its side with a handle affixed to the "top" and a candle shoved up through a hole cut into the "bottom". When the gadget is lit, the container acts as a reflector and shield and the grip keeps your hand from getting hot. When the candle burns low after a while, you just push it farther up into the tin. I'd seen a couple of these strange contrivances hanging in the bushes way down the trail, and a couple more on Sonny's porch, but hadn't gotten around to asking about them.

Well, on the way home that night we compared a bug with our flash light . . . and now I'll choose the old-fashioned gadget almost any time. The trouble with the electric torch is that single bright beam which you must continually point at where you're stepping. Even though the bulb does also give off amore general glow, your eyes automatically adjust to the brilliant spot so that it's hard to expand your field of vision. The bug, on the other hand, spreads its light over a large area and makes it extremely easy to follow a trail.

I think the bug also beats a lantern for outdoor night use—especially for trail walking—because its light is more easily directed and not clouded by wires, braces and a perennially dirty chimney. True, a lantern can be set down while a standard bug of the kind described here must be hung . . . but I'm working on a prototype that can do both.