My First Forest Fire Conintues: Hippie Todd

         Grant and the fire bosses had decided that because of the heavy rain and our late night yesterday, there was no rush to get to get the men to the fire. The crew straggled out of the tents looking for their coffee and breakfast and by 8:30 Grant had them assembled and told them they would be hiking up to the fire, which was upslope one half mile away.  

        It was at this point that Todd first became an issue with the Fire Bosses. They had discovered that he was still wearing his raggedy old running shoes, and when they told him he should put his boots on, he had told them that he didn’t have any boots. This created a dilemma, because of fire safety concerns, boots were a requirement and since we were in a remote area miles from anywhere, there really was no solution to the problem. 

        Grant lectured Todd about how he had been told to bring boots, and how irresponsible and dangerous it was to be out on a fire without them. Despite all of Grant’s earnest arguments, the words seemed to be sliding off of Todd, just like the rain sliding off of the boughs overhead. In the end, Todd left the camp with the rest of the crew, walking in a single file line into the wet forest and up the slope toward the fire. 

        Because of my official position as Timekeeper, I was told to stay in camp and help JJ with the camp work and food. The men had made sandwiches for themselves before they left, and so once we had the dishes washed and the camp tidied up, I recorded everybody's start time on my timekeeper forms and busied myself cutting a trail down to the creek, where we would be getting water. 

        Around 10:30 Todd, now rain soaked, came ambling back to camp. I asked him why he had returned and he said that they needed some chainsaws up at the fire, and they wanted someone to come down to camp to see if we had any. 

        Then, like I was his closest friend, Todd confided to me, “When they asked for a volunteer to walk back to camp to see if there were any chainsaws, I jumped at the chance, because I didn’t like doing all that work up there, but then as I started walking down here, I started thinking, ‘if there are chainsaws down at the camp, I will have to carry them back up to the fire’ and I started getting really worried.”

        I told Todd that luck was on his side, because there were no chainsaws in camp. 

        “Far out,” Todd replied, and walked over to the table under the tarp and grabbed a handful of cookies from a package. I resumed my hacking away at the underbrush clearing for the trail and after about 45 minutes, I noticed that Todd was still just hanging around the cook tent stuffing his face. I decided that since Todd didn’t seem to possess the motivation to scoot himself back up to the fire; that I had better “play the heavy,” and encourage him along. 

        “Todd, you’d better be getting back to the rest of the crew, and tell them we have no chainsaws down here.” 

        “It’s quite a hike all the way back there.”, he replied. 

        “I’m sure it is, I countered, “and that’s why we pay those big firefighter wages.” 

        I figured I had set things straight, so I turned back to my trail clearing.  Then a bit later, I noticed that Todd had not left for the fire and was messing around in his tent. 

        I am not one who likes to wield power, but since I had assumed the role of a Forest Service official, I felt obligated to enforce the rules, so I confronted Todd in the tent and tried, to the best off my ability, make things clear. 

        “Todd, if you don’t get back up to the fire, I am going to have to have to record you as not working, and you are not going to be paid for the time you are hanging around here.” 

    He came up with a few lame excuses about why he needed to stay around camp, but he did much to my relief, finally head back up the trail to the rest of the crew.

View my paintings at:  davidmarchant2.ca

My First Forest Fire & Odd Todd

 The photo shows a young me with my Forestry hard hat.

        It was when the crew were called to eat and they lined up to fill their plates, that I first noticed Todd.  Having lived on the fringes of hippiedom during the late 60’s and early 70’s, worn my hair longer than the norm, and suffering the consequences for my appearance, left me drawn to those who might be kindred spirits.  Todd looked like he might be such a spirit.

        Todd had long stingy, dirty, shoulder length, blond hair which rested atop his thin, 6’5” (2m) frame. He wore old jeans with holes in them, an old sweatshirt, and raggedy old running shoes. He looked every bit the stereotypical hippie, and as I was soon to learn, no one else I have ever met, came closer to living up to that stereo-type, than “Odd Todd”. 

    After helping with the kitchen clean-up, I did my time-keeper chores. I went through all the names, trying to mentally put a face to them. I recorded the hours everyone had put in for the day, then repacked all the forms and pencils back into the brown envelope, did up its string-joined tie, walked over to my designated tent, slid into my bedroll, and fell asleep. 

        I was somewhat dismayed, upon awakening at 6:00 the next morning to discover that during the night it had begun to rain, in fact, it had begun to pour. A cool grey dampness hung over the camp. I forced myself from the sleeping bag and blanket and put on my clammy, but dry clothes and wandered over to the shelter of the tarp that served as the roof to the camp kitchen. JJ was already at work scrambling eggs and frying bacon. 

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My First Forest Fire, Part 4

         Finally off in the distance, I heard the whop, whop, whop of the helicopter, it was just like in the beginning of MASH, the TV show.  The chopper came into view with a rush from behind the trees, circling us, and then settling down in a flurry of flying dust, twigs, and noise. 

        When it shut down, Grant climbed out, along with Ron and Guy (two local loggers) who were to be the Fire Bosses. A bus carrying the firefighters arrived about the same time.  It was decided that Grant, along with JJ, Bob, and I, would fly in first, so we could begin to set up the camp.

        Securely buckled to my the seat, and feeling lucky to be sitting in a window seat, we lifted off.  My eyes were scanning every where; the scattered farm houses and hayfields shrank as the horizons expanded. There was the Fraser River, now under us, and soon we were moving along the slopes of the snow- capped mountains which cradled the McGregor river.

        “There’s the fire,” I heard Grant say through the earphones, as he pointed out a thin white column of smoke that was twisting up from a ridge. I snapped a picture, even though I didn’t see any raging flames of orange, eating its way though the trees. It’s a good thing I took that picture, because it was the only time on this fire fighting adventure that I was to actually see the forest fire. 

        The camp site was a lightly treed open area beside a creek. We cut saplings for tent poles and roped up the canvas tents between the trees. We hung tarps and made tables and cut logs to sit on.  It took many helicopter trips for all of the supplies and the firefighting crew to arrive.

    As the crew disembarked they began to take over the construction of the camp, while Bob and I began to concentrate on helping JJ put the kitchen together and prepare the supper.  When JJ finally had the meal ready it was 9:30 PM and all of the many stories I had heard about eating well in Fire Camps were confirmed. Tired and hungry, everyone with their overflowing plates in their laps, sat on logs and rocks and ravished the steaks, potatoes, and peas by the dim, flickering light of the lanterns and a campfire.

        The photo shows JJ the camp cook on the left, and Bob the First Aid Attendant, giving JJ a hand with food preparation.   

View my paintings at: davidmarchant2.ca

My First Forest Fire. Part 3

         My hunger sated, it was now time for some more waiting. Around 2:00 (that's 14:00 Forest Service time), a big farm truck pulled into the parking and I helped Ray, the farmer and truck owner, load up the axes, shovels, polaskis (a tool that is sort of a combination of both a hoe and an axe), pumps, fuel, tents, lanterns, cooking equipment, utensils, pots, pans, food. sleeping rolls, toilet paper, and chainsaws. You need a lot of stuff to set up a camp to fight a forest fire. 

        When we had all of the equipment and supplies loaded, we did some more waiting until we were told it was finally time to actually get the truckload of supplies moving down the road. I grabbed my pack containing my gear and the brown envelope with all of the Timekeeper’s pads and papers, climbed into the passenger seat of the farm truck, and we rolled out of the Forest Service parking lot and headed down Highway 16 toward Dome Creek and the helicopter pickup site. 

        It took about an hour to get to the drop-off point. I helped Ray, the farmer, unload all of the tools, equipment, and food from the farm truck  and onto a nice pile on the grassy field at Dome Creek. Ray got into the truck and drove away and I did some more waiting, all alone, with the mountain of firefighting supplies. 

        Forty-five minutes later, Alastair arrived in a green Forest Service pickup to drop off JJ, (who I was happy to see) and Bob, along with more supplies.  JJ was the hippie/jack-of-all-trades friend and neighbor, and Bob was a farmer, who would be the First Aid Attendant. I was happy to learn that JJ was going to be the cook. It was reassuring to have someone I knew along on this adventure. 

        We unloaded more supplies from the back of Alastair's truck and he drove away, leaving us to continue with our waiting along a bigger pile of fire fighting equipment.  

    My paintings can be seen at:  davidmarchant2.ca

My First Forest Fire, Part 2

 The photo above shows the building that used to be the McBride Ranger Station.

    My wife drove me the 6 miles into town and dropped me off at the ranger station. I kissed her good bye and began walking up the sidewalk. I couldn’t help but notice that there was a distinct lack of chaotic rushing around and the yelling of orders, that I had expected to see at the Forest Service office with a forest fire to be fought. Instead I saw a quiet sunny morning with no activity at all, in sight. 

        I walked up the concrete steps, opened the door and stood by the counter. A man wearing a beige shirt came up to the other side of the counter and asked if he could help me.   I replied that I had received a call from Alastair, and that I was there to help fight a forest fire. The man walked around a wall and called to Alastair who came to the counter and welcomed me.  He  then introduced me as David, his neighbor who was a teacher. He told me to follow him. 

        Alastair led me into a large room in the basement of the office, and handed me a big brown envelope with a string tie and told me that since I was a teacher, I was going to be the “Timekeeper” on the fire. He had me open the envelope and as I took out and looked at all of the various pads of paper forms and cards, he explained to me what each of them was and what I was to record on them. 

    Alastair then introduced me to Grant, who was to be in charge of the fire. I was then left on my own in order to spend more time reviewing the various timekeeper pads and forms.  Grant returned to tell me to make sure that all of the pencils were sharpened. 

        Things seemed to be moving a whole lot slower than I had expected. There was still no other fire fighters that I could see.  As I sat in the basement studying the Timekeeper’s forms, I was introduced to a couple of other Forest Service guys and began to glean a bit more information about the fire and what was going to happen.  

        The fire was caused by a lightning strike, up one of the tributaries of the McGregor River, which was about 50 miles northwest of McBride. There were no roads close to the fire so I was going to accompany a truckload of supplies to Dome Creek, the nearest  community to the fire, where a helicopter would pick me and the supplies up, and fly to the location where the fire camp was to be sited. I would be helping set up the camp. The firefighters would not be flown into the camp until the afternoon. 

        I then did a lot of waiting, which was followed by more waiting.

        I accompanied Alastair to the grocery store to pick up the food order that had been filled for the Fire Camp. I was starving; firefighting is hungry work. I took advantage of being at the grocery to buy myself a chocolate bar to tide me over until I got something more substantial to eat. We drove the groceries back to the office and where I did some more waiting. The guys at the office had some sandwiches brought end and fortunately I was a recipient of one of them. 

You can see my paintings at: davidmarchant2.ca

My First Forest Fire Call Out

           My life took an unexpected turn when the phone rang at 9:30 on a hot and sunny August Saturday morning in 1978.  It was a phone call that had an immediate repercussion, but also had further repercussions two years later that led to a 25 year change in the direction of my life.

        The call was from Alastair, a neighbor who lived a couple of houses down the road who worked for the B.C. Forest Service. In our many visits with him and his family, I mentioned that I was available and eager for any kind of work, and fortunately Alastair remembered that, and was on the phone to tell me that there had been a lightning strike that had resulted in a forest fire up the McGregor River drainage, and the Forest Service was in need of fire fighters. Was I willing to come and help?

        “Sure”, I told him “What do I need do? 

         “Just bring some boots and gloves and come down to the ranger station as soon as you can”, Alastair  replied, then added, “You’ll probably be away from home for a few days, and this is a helicopter show, so we will be flying you in and camping.” 

        Wow, a helicopter ride!, Now, I was really excited. It was mostly the pristine mountains that had attracted us to move to the Robson Valley and the McGregor River was a totally untouched wilderness drainage, about as pristine as it comes, and now I was getting an opportunity to ride in a helicopter and see the mountains from the air. I had never been in a helicopter before, and jeez, I had never had to fight a forest fire before. My mind was racing, by this sudden opening of new opportunities. 

        I pictured myself as a fire fighter;  I stood stoically, axe in my hand, as an inferno of flames snaked up nearby trees and sparks swirled around me.  I neatly stepped aside to dodge the incendiary branches that crashed down beside me.  I paused for a few seconds, exhausted from the exertion of using the axe.  The heat was intense. I took off my hardhat and wiped the sweat from my ash smeared brow. The fire roared, my 30 seconds of rest was over, I must returned to the fire fight.

    Back to reality:  I filled my wife in on the details of my exciting phone call, then gathered some work clothes, my heavy duty hiking boots, and a pair of work gloves. A camera, I mustn’t forget to take my camera. I was ready. 

View my paintings at:  davidmarchant2.ca

Happy Canada Day

     We’ve got a fairly grim looking holiday going for us today.  It is coolish and raining, so I thought I would pull out a more scenic photo for the occasion.  This Is a picture taken on the way up to Kinney Lake in Mt. Robson Provincial Park.  The beautiful, but unnatural looking color of the water, is due to glacial “flour”, a mix of ground up rock carried by the river.

    Like every other country these days, Canada is suffering from the erratic, chaotic, and unstable bullying of the child-like president of the US, but it is muddling along.  

    Our weather will no doubt put a damper on the Canada Day events scheduled in McBride.  We will probably drive into town later today, to get some doughnuts from the local food truck.

You can view my paintings at:  davidmarchant2.ca