Daunt to Dillonwood I’m Ready
The season for fires and hot weather has definitely arrived. For the past few mornings however, the temperature has definitely been on the cool side, even though we are a week into the month of June.
Several readers have commented to me how much they enjoyed and appreciated my columns about being on a fire, being in and around an “instant city” called a Fire Camp, and my activities when assigned to help out. These are quite amazing gatherings of people, equipment, and support. They spring up, almost by magic, near enough to the fire to be supportive of those working to put it out, and far enough to be a safe haven.
This time of year I start almost every morning looking over the information on the current fires. I have a couple of websites I frequent, where I can see what has changed overnight, what’s getting corralled, and what’s still burning. Most importantly for contractors like me, which fire is looking as if it might go, “Extended.”
This will mean they (whoever “they” really are) think the resources currently assigned to this fire aren’t going to be able to bring it to a halt in an acceptable time. When the decision is made to bring in an Incident Management Team (IMT) of experienced folks, I know the Logistics Manager will soon put out a call for drivers.
As a driver with a Type I Pickup, or more accurately a: “Pickup Type I,” when I get called, I will be asked to report to a not-yetsetup Fire Camp. When that call comes, I need to be prepared to roll away from home within two-three hours. Sometimes a departure the next morning is expected, but regardless how soon it is, I have to be ready.
This means all my clothing and other gear has to be clean, packed, and loaded into a big heavy plastic “Gobox” which is waiting on my front porch. When I leave to go to a fire, I could be gone for no more than a couple of days, but it could extend to 14 days. Our contracts say we should be sent home for a mandatory “two days off” after 14 days working on the fire.
If the fire is winding down and nearly at an end, contractors may be asked if they’d be willing to extend a few days to help wrap it all up. This can sometimes go for another seven days. However, with few exceptions, at the end of 21 days, we will be sent home for the mandatory two days off.
Therefore, when I pack my Gobox, I need at least 21 clean T-shirts, underwear, and sox, along with the meds I take on a daily basis. When I’m demobed (de-mobilized) off the current fire, the first task on arriving home is to get those stinky clothes washed and back in the bag in the Gobox and ready for the next call.
One year about five years ago, I’d been assigned by the U.S. Forest Service to the Sand Fire east of Santa Clarita for the previous 10 days. I’d been demobed just before noon, so I stopped in Santa Clarita for lunch before continuing home.
As I turned off Highway 99 onto Highway 65, I’d not yet gotten to Poso Creek, when my phone rang. I looked at the number and immediately recognized the dispatch center in Visalia. I was getting a call from Calfire for another fire, and everything was dirty.
“Can you be at the Goose Fire in Prather (northeast of Fresno) by 1600?”
“Oh man, I’ve just left the Sand Fire and need to wash my clothes. Can I get until at least 1700 or maybe 1800?”
After a brief pause, “Sure make it 1800, but no later.”
I immediately called Sharon. “I’m being dispatched to another fire north of Fresno and have to be there no later than 6 p.m. tonight. Empty out the washing machine and clothes dryer. I’ve gotta wash everything.”
By 5 p.m. I was rolling away from Springville. It was nearly 1900 before I got to Fire Camp. I called the Ground Support Unit Leader (GSUL) and told him I was on my way.
Today, my clothes and meds are all packed in their bags and containers. As soon as I get the dust off the Gobox and the inside vacuumed clean, they will be safely packed away in readiness.
Now that I’m a widower, I also have to make arrangements for my dogs to be boarded. Even though my vet is closed on the weekends, he’s told me to give them a call. They’ll meet me on my way to the fire. They told me, “If you’re going to help on a fire, we can manage to take care of your doggies.”
The first call I make after being dispatched, is to let Bob know I’m leaving. He’s done this so many years when Sharon was alive, it will only be slightly different now. She couldn’t do any of the irrigation or take care of the critters, other than feed a little grain at the fences. Bob knows what to do and how to take care of the ranch.
Now he’ll have to check on the hummers, and keep their feeders filled. The way the year is going, this isn’t going to be a little thing. Plus he’ll now need to keep an eye on my refrigerator and my freezer. Everything else about taking care of the ranch for me is all familiar, and he knows what to do.
Now all I have to do is wait for my first phone call. And then it will be, “OK, Bob. I’m going to the XYZ Fire. Gotta be there by 1900 tonight. You got it.”