Jack London’s classic short story, “To Build a Fire” should be required reading for anyone venturing out into the winter woods. It’s a bleak and bone-chilling tale of human insignificance in the face of unforgiving nature-and a reminder to keep your matches dry.

In the story, the protagonist-a newcomer to the frozen Yukon- breaks through thin ice near a spring and makes a series of fateful decisions (traveling alone, accompanied only by a dog, in the sub-zero cold is perhaps the worst). His ability to build a fire holds the key to survival. He quickly nurses one to life with matches and birch-bark tender, but just as he begins to thaw out, an overhanging bough dumps its load of snow, putting the fire out cold. After that, his increasingly futile attempts to restart the fire are described in agonizing detail. He ultimately freezes to death, victim of a fatal mix of overconfidence and bad luck. The dog, realizing that this human won’t be starting a fire anytime soon, trots off to find the nearest camp and someone who can.

Temperatures in the Southern Appalachians, even in the depths of winter, are far milder than those found above the Arctic Circle. Still, the specter of hypothermia hovers over any winter outing, and mastering basic fire building is a necessary survival skill. When building a campfire, moisture (whether within the wood or due to weather) and lack of oxygen are the greatest impediments to success, so always look for dry, downed wood. The traditional teepee construction provides the best airflow. Start with dry tinder in the center. You can use newspaper, but natural materials such as dried moss or grass, and strips of cedar or birch bark, work just as well.

Next, place a kindling layer of tiny twigs on top of the tinder (dead pine or cedar branches make good kindling). Use progressively larger pieces until you’ve built a teepee of index-finger-sized wood. Light the tinder, blowing gently if it’s reluctant to ignite. Always remember to collect a supply of arm-sized wood in advance and lay it nearby to feed your fire.

Green wood contains a lot of water. That’s why it’s hard to light and pops, hisses, and smokes when it does combust. Dry, seasoned hardwoods burn hotter and longer than softwood species. Generally, the denser or heavier the wood, the better. In the Southeast, black locust usually tops the list of best burners. Shagbark hickory, red oak, sugar maple, and osage orange are other hot-burning woods.

When I was a Boy Scout, we prided ourselves on one-match campfires and even no-match fires from coals the next morning. Even though we took great care to build a fire ring out of rocks, to clear the ground around the campfire, and to drown the fire before leaving, we still burnt a lot of dead wood and tended to denude the surrounding area. Nowadays, big campfires are frowned upon, and fires of any kind are forbidden in many places. Most conscientious campers adhere religiously to the “Leave No Trace” ethic (see www.lnt.org) when in the backcountry. When campfires are allowed, keep them small, contained within an existing fire ring, and build them only in areas with plentiful downed, dead wood. Extinguish thoroughly with water, scatter the ash, and chuck unburned material back into the woods. The ideal is to leave the campsite as untouched-looking as possible.

That said, nothing is better on a camping trip than a roaring, hot fire. And, in winter, if your luck or the weather turns, it might just save your life.

Charlottesville’s William Cocke is always turning over rocks and rotten logs to see what’s underneath. He can be reached at wtc4q@virginia.edu.