It took me a while to come to this conclusion, but I recently decided that I love it. Which is a good thing too, because I plan on coming back next season. And I hear it promotes less killing sprees if you like going to work.
You see, although I am technically on a "fire crew," we're in a tough spot. We're the newly-established "Incline Handcrew," or just "Crew 3." As the second name might have alluded to, there is also a Crew 2 and a Crew 1. These crews (1 and 2) are what's called Type-1 IA crews, meaning they're qualified to Initial Attack a fire... that is, be the first on scene and be trusted to not let it turn into another Angora.
Crew 3 is what's called a Type-2 IA Crew, or as the jerks on crews 1 and 2 call us, a "fuels crew." This means that we can go on fires, but we're almost never allowed to Initial Attack. When we aren't on a fire, we do Project Work, where we're basically a crew-for-hire for any business/private group who wants their establishment to be made fire-ready. We still use all the tools for fire fighting, but we use them to clear out dead trees, excessive brush, and other fuels that would be disastrous if fire did sweep through.
Up until Wednesday, we hadn't seen any fire whatsoever. We had been called in on a few fires around the lake, but they were already out and so we just secured the line and made sure everything was cold.
But then Wednesday we were called in at 5am to go out to a fire in northern Nevada next to a town called Doyle. We showed up in time to relieve Crew 1, who had been laying hot line (line directly on the fire's edge) all night. When we showed up, everything was out. That's how desert fires usually are... they rip in the day and then are put out by the cold temperatures and higher humidities of the night.
So we were assigned a typical Crew 3 task... coldtrailing. This means we broke into groups of 4 or 5 and worked along the line, checking everything within 10 feet of the black* to make sure it was cold and not a threat to be re-kindled. My group consisted of Drew, Seals, Footie,** and myself. At about 11am, Seals pointed to a ridge about a mile and a half away. Some Pinion Juniper (those big, scrub-type bushed all over Nevada) had caught on fire from the still-hot ashes beneath it coupled with the scorching desert heat and a good breeze. Since we hadn't been ordered any differently, we went back to coldtrailing.
About 10 minutes later, the Tactical Commander (who was up near the ridge,) called for a detachment from Crew 3 to come help the air support by putting in some hand line. Footie, being the coolest guy ever, immediately volunteered our team for it. We hiked up the hill for about 30 minutes and arrived at the fresh-burned black super psyched.
It was a letdown. The helicopter and retardant drops had already contained the flames, which had then burnt out. Slightly bummed, we were ordered to continue coldtrailing in the newly-burned areas.
Less than an hour later, however, a gust of wind kicked up. I was watching my area of black to make sure nothing sparked up when suddenly I heard someone call sharply, "Kenneston!" I turned around to see another Pinion Juniper torching about 30 yards downhill. I ran to Footie, Seals and Drew. Seals was already starting up his chainsaw and Drew was putting his tool away so he could swamp.***
About 15 feet away from the 30-foot high flames, the heat was still agonizing. I had to angle my face away so it didn't hurt so much. Footie was ordering Seals and Drew to kick it into gear as another Pinion caught from the first and went up. The heat intensified.
"Kenneston, anchor on those rocks and start putting in check line!" Footie called over his shoulder. I didn't need to be told twice. I sprinted to the large rocks to our right and began scraping all fuels away from the rapidly spreading flames. My job with "check line" was to break up the continuity of the ground fuels, so I hacked at sagebrush and scraped away cheatgrass as I made my way across the hill, stomach feeling sick from the exertion and the heat. It was a curious sensation to look up at the flames and feel the sweat on my face start to evaporate. I tried not to look up too much.
Seals and Drew were busy attacking nearby Junipers to try and stop the torching, and Footie joined me to battle the ground-level flames. It wasn't enough. I could tell after about a minute that we weren't going to catch it... it was spreading ridiculously quick, but across the hill since the wind was going downslope, countering fire's natural tendency to go uphill. It was going to outrun us.
Suddenly Footie tugged on my shoulder to pull me away from our line. I became aware of a tumultuous noise as he did so, and no sooner had I stepped back than 800 gallons of water fell from the chopper above us and created about 50 feet of "wet line." Sweet! But this only made sure the fire wouldn't come up towards us... it was still able to spread across the slope.
Footie and I ran to the end of the wet line. As we approached, I saw a guy in a white helmet leaning on a Pulaski.****
"You guys want some help?" He asked calmly.
"Yeah man, hop in!" Footie called back.
"Hot line!" The guy yelled over his shoulder. About 5 other guys in white helmets came out of the Juniper behind him and joined Footie and I cutting line. A white-helmet sawyer came to Seal's aid as another water drop hit downhill from us.
(The white-helmet guys turned out to be the Silver State Hotshots, who are pretty much the best Hotshot Crew on the west coast. Footie filled me in later.)
With their help, we cornered the fire and it burnt out. As soon as we pulled back, I whipped out my camera and got some pictures of a water drop and the still roaring flames.
And then it was over. The flames vanished, to be replaced by smoke. We immediately secured the perimeter to prevent any further blow-ups and then continued coldtrailing for the remaining four hours.
I think it was sometime during dinner that night back at camp that the realization hit me. In between bites of slow-cooked steak and hot mashed potatoes, I thought aloud to Torrez sitting across from me, "I love my job."
-Daniel
P.S. I'm applying for crew 1 and 2 next year, per my Crew Supervisor's suggestion.
*The black is whatever's been burned already.
**Footie is our Foreman and quite possibly one of the coolest dudes ever. He pretty much invented firefighting.
***This means he throws anything the saw cuts as far away as possible from the flames.
****It's a half-axe/half-hoe
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