Curls of thin grey smoke twisted upward from the exuberant flames, carrying a hint of the fire’s warm glow as they spread out and dissipated into the darkness. When the wind shifted, the aroma of burning hardwood stirred primal memories of campfires past. For a moment, I wondered how far back in time those remembrances went, perhaps even beyond my own childhood experience, hinting at innate recollections of ancestral campfires.

The hypnotic dance of flames promoted a sense of calm and clarity akin to the soft fascination often associated with immersion in nature. That moment of Zen was short-lived, however, when a shower of sparks erupted with a loud crack, forcing me to jump back to avoid holes burning through my synthetic jacket. Although surrounded mostly by strangers, I somehow felt very much at home in their company at this communal campfire.

Fires have long served as a central hub of community across many cultures, an ancient tradition that extends well beyond the need for warmth or a place to cook. It’s where oral histories, rituals, legends, and folktales were commonly passed on. A campfire is the perfect stage for ghost stories that send chills up your spine, prompting you to glance over your shoulder, wondering what danger lurks in the darkness beyond the light of the circle.

The conversations at this fire didn’t seem quite that profound or scary. This was a gathering of backpackers and adventurers, including equipment manufacturers, YouTubers, influencers, weekend warriors, and thru-hikers, all brought together by Ben McMillan of Hilltop Packs and hosted by his friend, Shane Cole.

Listening to Ben speak, it’s clear that community means everything to him. As the owner of several small businesses in Waynesburg and Greene County, PA, he speaks passionately about making a difference in his local community. That outlook seemed to draw like-minded people from diverse backgrounds to this campfire on a remote hilltop in Pennsylvania’s southwest corner. This was the second Hilltop Packs On the Hill event, and I’ve had the pleasure of attending both.

Complete strangers shared stories of backpacking adventures, favorite trails, mishaps, close calls, equipment failures, and embarrassing moments. Many of these tales would qualify as “type II fun,” events that might not have been fun in the moment but are remembered fondly: “This one time we got caught in a wicked hailstorm on the exposed ridgetop. That was fun!”

We quickly got to know each other and soon shared bonds seemingly forged by the fire. There was much laughter and a few shenanigans, but as the hour grew late and campers began to retire to their tents or hammocks, the conversation grew more personal, touching on life, love, challenges, triumphs, and the state of the world.

When the conversation wound down and the embers began to fade, I had a late-night realization: In a society where communication often happens in the isolation of online settings, speaking and, more importantly, listening to each other in person feels more vital than ever.

Gathering around a campfire would do us all some good. Thank you, Ben McMillen, Tim Buckley, and Shane Cole for fostering a campfire community.