Tending to a campfire, raising it up from the first few pieces of kindling to a raging inferno that gives birth to a glowing carpet of orange embers is a big part of camping for me.

Like a lot guys, I’ve always considered myself the “Fire Guy” around my campsite. Maybe it’s the Neanderthal in us — Me Make Fire. Fire Good. Fire Warm. Me Protect Fire. It’s like that 1981 movie, Quest for Fire, where cavemen fight to death for the right to have fire (and Rae Dawn Chong in body paint).

That’s kind of how I feel about my campfires. I’m possessive of them. And once I’ve built a fire, don’t you dare toy with it. I’m the guy who has is own “fire stick” (Firestick Mine). If the fire begins to falter, I poke and prod back to life with my fire stick.

I feel strongly about my campfires. Can you tell? They are like a work of art; they are a creative expression.

So, I was a more than a little disappointed when a fire ban blanketed most of Simcoe County last weekend. I probably pouted more than the kids, who missed out on their toasty brown marshmallows, smores and hotdogs on a stick.

The ban has been in place for a few weeks thanks to one of the driest summers on record. Water levels are so low, for instance, the Nottawasga Conservation Authority has issued water restrictions in its territory.

Mother Nature as dried up so much, she’s been diagnosed with severe dehydration.

No rain, no campfires.

Ah, but there was rain last Sunday. It actually came down hard for an hour or two. Great, I thought, tonight I’ll be stoking the coals and smelling the sweet scent of burning cedar.

But it was not to be. The folks at Barrie KOA in Oro-Medonte told us the township calls for 24 hours of rain before a ban is lifted.

There was no doubt the ground was wet after Sunday’s two-hour downpour. But apparently the people who check these things use some kind of metre that detects how far below the surface the moisture extends.

Drat, sometimes scientific stuff can ruin good fun.

Twenty-four hours of straight rain? When’s the last time we’ve seen that? We’ll never see that, I thought as eyed my recycling box full of freshly cut wood. Then again, it rained nearly every day when we went camping at Arrowhead Provincial Park in Huntsville last month.

If only I could take a little rain from July and sprinkle it over August.

Not getting to build a campfire was disappointing enough for a Fire Guy like me. But imagine building a nice blaze, only to have it doused. That’s what happened to some hapless campers who pulled into the KOA Sunday night, thinking the rain had lifted the ban.

The sweet smell of burning wood only wafted through the campground for a few glorious minutes before the KOA patrollers pulled up in their snappy little golf carts and ordered the perplexed campers to put out their flames.

It was a sad moment. The KOA patrol had also snuffed out any chance that I would be able to spark up my own fire.

But fire bans are necessary, even if the average guy figures he can watch over a campfire, especially if the ground is wet. A controlled fire is one thing, let it get started in a tinder dry cedar bush and it’s not so much fun. In the past 10 years, 165 human-caused fires have been started during the August long weekend, according the Ministry of Natural Resources.

Even though I’m a self-confessed Fire Guy, I probably wouldn’t have cancelled our camping trip over the fire ban. But apparently, there were plenty who did last weekend.

The aggravating thing is, for some reason, Orillia, including Bass Lake Provincial Park, wasn’t part of the ban.

My neighbours enjoyed campfires at Bass Lake, while I flicked my Bic every now and then just for the memories. Ontario Parks warned campers to keep a close eye on fires and to extinguish them with water when it was time for bed, but there was no ban.

So if you’re going camping, and you really enjoy your campfires, check around. You may be able to spark up in some areas, while in others just a short distance away, the ban continues.