Raw Power

We arrived in the early afternoon, as the heat rose from the high seventies to the low eighties. The day had been warm and windy, but after 2:00 PM the conditions went from interesting to concerning. Wind gusts changed directions on a whim, blowing the warm early spring air from our faces to our back without warning. It was going to be a hell of an evening.

On the first big Red-flag warning day of the spring, we were called to respond to a small roadside fire outside of Eminence, MO. We never received official notice, but word on the street was that it was set by a group of teenagers tossing flamables out of their car and into the woods. It was well under way when we arrived, and we were immediately sent in with rakes and a chainsaw as hand crew to secure some buildings on the farm property.

After dropping some jackpots and raking around a wood shed, we took to the dozer line to patrol the recently fired back-lighting operation. We moved up the flank going uphill with the fire on our left. The flaming front had been focused on the top of the hill, and our back light was making quick headway upward toward the main fire. I was the last in line and thing seemed under control as I rounded the corner and up the steep slope to approach the flaming front.

Soon after we back-lit to cut off the flaming front, the unexpected happened. Winds shifted, and what was once our helpful back-light at the bottom of the hill turned into the source of embers shooting across our line and into the flashy slope of dry grass and small shrubs. It took off in a big way and roared up the adjacent hillside.

After re-evaluating with our dozer driver and incident commander, we started a new line up the hill to cut off the slop-over. Unfortunately with the wind gusts, steep topography, and dry mixed fuels, the fire beat us to the top before we had a chance to cut it off. We spent much of the rest of the afternoon working down the hill and cutting it off side-slope, all the while choking on smoke and stamping out spot-overs.

Finally evening rolled around and we had encircled the fire at the bottom of the hill. The main fire had slowed on the wet northern aspect was forced to creep downhill as the evening RH rose. As the sun was setting, we made our patrol out to a green field which looked up on the hill on which we had expended so much energy that afternoon. The sight was awe-inspiring. We could see the shadow of the trees through the burning snags and smoldering jackpots. The horizon had an eerie orangish glow, every so often brightened to a yellow by the candle of a torching cedar.

With all of the day’s events-- a ~90 acre wildfire with 2 slop-overs, constantly shifting winds, huge flame heights, and many trees that were dry enough to torch-- it was easy to be impressed by the raw power of nature. When all these factors come together, people seem to shrink in consequence. Who are we compared to wind, slope, fuel, and fire? Our place as participants and not conquerors of nature is never more deeply felt than while one the year’s first wildfire.