When we were younger, my brother and I had nothing better to do with a lot of our time. Thankfully we had grandparents with a farm where we spent most summers clearing and burning all sorts of shit. This kept the pyromania bug at bay. Our grandparents also had a beach house in Florida where we'd go for Christmas every year. Being young we'd do the lame things you do at the beach, dig really big holes for no reason. One year we decided we'd fill the hole with some burnable shit and have a bonfire on the beach. The hole was probably 6x6 wide and 5 or 6 feet deep. We filled it with dried palm leaves until there was probably a two foot convex pile above the beach level. We then proceeded to pour some gasoline on it just to make sure it would start. It probably only took two minutes for the fire to reach 30 feet high. It was massive and we were quite impressed with ourselves. The wind shifted and started blowing towards the house where all of the plants and burnable material were. My mom came running out of the house shrieking. Fortunately the fire was contained in a sand hole. We just started collapsing the sand from the edges into the fire pit. It was out as fast as it had started. That was probably the closest we came to disaster. Nothing to bad, no injuries or fire damage. We did the usual kids stuff, homemade napalm, shot at 2 liter bottles filled with gas, shit like that. It is curious how there is a kind of social pattern with kids and fire. Good times.