Reputation
Well, the Deception Fire turned out to be a bit of a turd, but the crew did good work anyway. There was a lot of sitting around, waiting for the conditions to be right for burning. The fire was down in a valley and going direct was not a good option. Neither was burning the big box. Oregon fires are weird like that. We got through it though, and came out looking good, with the important fuckers there pleased with our work and attitudes.
Believe it or not, a crew’s attitude or the perception of their attitude that is formed by different crews and incident management teams is just as important to their reputation as is the quality of their work. There are some hotshot crews who are some badass sons of bitches and work very hard creating quality line. If they are also assholes, their reputation suffers and no one wants to work with them. Sometimes hotshots get a little too proud of themselves for being hotshots and are rude or condescending to other resources. Sometimes the crew leadership lacks diplomatic skills and offends their division supervisor by disagreeing with the plan. Then things get awkward.
Being a good crew that is well-thought-of is a lot like just being a good person in life generally, I think. Don’t be a dick to those less awesome than you, maintain a positive attitude, and be reasonable with your boss, and life is good. Also, be prepared and able to work as hard as you can for days on end. At the end of the day, production is still the measure of a good hotshot crew.
That is all.
Deception Fire
Today was day eight for us on the Deception Fire. It’s mostly been a waiting game on this one. The fire was down low in steep terrain and had made at least one good run out of the hole a few days before we arrived. Type one helicopters and a little rain kept it in check while the roads around the fire were prepped. We put in a canopy break and dozer line to tie some roads together and reduce the acres we’ll need to burn, but that’s about all we’ve been able to do so far.
My crew is part of a group of seven hotshot crews designated as the burn group. There are two burn groups, and ours is tasked with lighting the west side of the fire when conditions are right. We’re supposed to get west winds in the next few days, so maybe we’ll get to do some work soon. Then there will be a few mop-up shifts followed by demobilization and travel home. Unless we lose our burn that is. Then we’d be going direct til we time out, I’d imagine.
Anyway, this has been a different experience from the usual. It’s ok with me. I’ve been able to read four or five books and I’m sick, so a little extra rest and relaxation is not a bad thing at all.
That is all.
Oregon
On the South Fork Complex. It’s been a fairly stout roll for us. Lots of direct line and hiking. Today my buggy broke a leaf spring so my squad will be living out of two rental trucks for a while. Such is life but it’s always a sad day when the buggy breaks down. Feels like being being evacuated and living in a shelter. It’ll all be ok though, today was day ten.
That is all.
So You Want To Be a Hotshot…
My crew has a handout we used to give potential recruits to dissuade some people from even filling out an application. The title is “So you want to be a hotshot” and it basically details what could be considered the negative aspects of the job.
Working sixteen to thirty-six hours straight, not showering for up to three weeks while living in the woods covered in dirt and soot, and working and walking until your feet and entire body hurt are some of the highlights.
I read the pamphlet during my first visit with the crew overhead and it simply solidified my desire to be on a hotshot crew. They hired me in 2008 as a completely green rookie (zero fire experience). Getting on the crew was one of the best things that ever happened to me.
Here’s a breakdown of what hotshots do:
On a fire, our main task is to stop the forward progression of the fire, either by direct or indirect line construction. We remove the fuels available to the fire, either by cutting away the brush and branches with chainsaws and following up with handtools to scrape down to mineral soil right along the fire’s edge (direct line) or prepping existing fuel breaks, typically roads, and burning out in front of the fire to remove fuels (indirect line).
To accomplish our main task of removing available fuels from the fire, we often utilize other tools and resources. Helicopters and air tankers can drop water and/or retardant to give us more time by slowing down fire spread or cooling the hotter, more active parts of the fire’s edge. Wildland fire engines and their crews are often very useful in burnout operations, either by direct support on a road we’re burning or by supporting a hose-lay into country that is only accessible by foot. We also often work closely with other handcrews, making sure our operational plans mesh and that no one is put in a dangerous situation by a lack of communication and planning. In an ideal situation a crew holds the line they’ve worked and there is an established breakpoint with the adjoining crew, but circumstances dictate.
Holding is another of our more important tasks. Stopping the fire is pointless if no one is there to ensure it remains stopped. So we line out and grid for spotfires after a burn or if trees have been torching and blowing embers across the line. We line and mop-up spotfires. We mitigate holding concerns with mop-up, which is basically the boring and backbreaking process of manually mixing up burning organic material with dirt, and if we’re lucky, water, until it is extinguished.
We typically hold and improve our piece of line until it is either safe to leave or another crew can come in, patrol, and continue to mop it up. It sounds a little arrogant, I know, but there are other less qualified and less physically fit crews who are more suited to mop-up shifts. If there’s anything physically difficult, dangerous, or technical to be done, hotshots want to be there and are the best resource for the job.
We are called Interagency Hotshot Crews (IHCs), Type 1 Crews, or usually just hotshots or “shots.” There are usually about twenty people on a shot crew. Our leadership typically consists of a crew supervisor, a crew foreman, two squad bosses and one saw boss, and one to three senior firefighters. The remainder of the crew is either a sawyer, a swamper, or a digger as their primary job.
Sawyers use chainsaws to remove vegetation from the fireline and cut down snags (dead trees). Swampers move the vegetation and pieces of snag to a location where it either can’t catch on fire or won’t impact the success of the operation if it does burn. Diggers dig handline down to mineral soil. Situations dictate, but perfect hotshot line is eighteen inches wide, with no duff, and with a cup-trench dug wherever burning material could roll downhill and across the line.
Digging sucks, but it has to be done right or all the other work is wasted when the fire escapes. Digging all day is, in my opinion, the hardest job on a crew. Swamping can be equally grueling, but rarely is. It seems that when the swampers are getting crushed, the dig is fairly easy, and vice versa. All the jobs can wear you out on a hard shift, but digging kills.
We have other skills of course, but our main jobs are line construction, burning, and hazard tree removal.
That is all.
Kahler