CHAPTER 28
The first thing Parker saw when he opened his eyes was a huge plywood sign with red spray painted words saying thank you, firefighters. As the bus rolled into camp, he leaned forward in his seat, taking in the sea of tents, personnel, vehicles, and boxes. They’d been driving through varying levels of smoky haze since Denver. But the size of this fire hadn’t fully hit him until just now. He’d heard rumors that the Oak Creek complex, just south of Steamboat Springs, had more than fifteen hundred firefighters on hand. Judging from the activity at camp, those rumors were true.
According to his latest briefing, the fire had already burned more than 40 homes in the area, and an additional 23 structures – some of them historical. And, in three short days, the fire had raced through more than thirty-six thousand acres of rugged terrain. Over fifty-six square miles. Mind boggling. Sinclaires’ ranch was only five-thousand acres, a paltry seven square miles. And up until now, that acreage, heck, even the Hansen acreage had felt generous.
In the days since Cassie had been gone with her unit, she’d texted they’d made bucket drops on three separate fires around the state. None of them as big as this complex. Beetle kill was significant in Northern Colorado, and provided entire hillsides of combustible fuel. They were going to have to prepare themselves for a full two weeks out here. Maybe longer.
The bus lumbered to a halt. Parker and his team grabbed their packs and shuffled out of the vehicle. It smelled like a campfire. The smoke hung heavy in the air, giving the early evening light a yellow-gray glow. A young woman in a US Forest Service shirt met them, clipboard in hand.
He stuck out his hand. “Parker Hansen, Crew Boss, Kansas Unit.”
“Oh, you’re the Flatlanders? We’ve been expecting you.”
Parker chuckled. “Yeah, we had a flat tire outside of Limon. But it’s all hills where we come from. Drive through Kansas sometime. It’s not as flat as everyone says.”
“Good to know. I’ve been assigned to take you to your tents. You’ll brief at six a.m. tomorrow morning. I understand you all have structure experience?”
“Yes. And all of us are medics.”
The young woman made some notes on her clipboard. “I see that here, but I’ll remind the Division Supervisor. Follow me.”
They wound their way through the maze of tents. In all his wildfire summers, he’d never seen an operation of this magnitude. It felt more like a military base than a wildfire camp.
“Are there really fifteen hundred people on the fire?” The sheer numbers boggled his mind. That was twenty-five percent of Prairie’s population.
“More, when you count logistics personnel – drivers, buyers, food service.”
Parker glanced back at Tony and Mike, who grinned back with excitement. He wished he shared their excitement. Instead, he just felt trepidation. Big fires were complex and hard to manage. Communication was paramount, and they’d all experienced gaps in communication this summer and previously. Steep terrain wasn’t kind to radio waves. Heat hated batteries. He made a note to insist they carry batteries above and beyond the requirement when they hit the line tomorrow.
“Here you are,” the young woman said brightly, holding back the flap of a large tent.
“Thanks,” Parker said absently as he scanned the space that would be their new home for the next week or longer.
“Oh, and one more thing. With so many personnel, and our location, cell service is spotty, even with our towers. What we have, we need to save for emergency purposes. We’re asking everyone to limit their cellular use to texts, and no data. Phone calls only when necessary.”
A few of the men behind him groaned.
“Sorry. Please don’t shoot the messenger,” she pleaded.
“We get the drill,” Tony grumbled.
“Yeah, Parker,” Mike chimed in. “No late night FaceTiming with Cassie.”
Cassie was required to log eight hours of rest prior to every shift, which meant she was in bed by nine. The last few nights, she’d been in a hotel, which had meant FaceTime… and shenanigans. He hadn’t had a chance to connect with her today. He didn’t even know where she was. And although he’d miss hearing her voice tonight, he understood how important it was to keep lines of communication open during an event of this significance.
Communication had been a nightmare post tornado in Prairie. And in a few cases, the lack of it had impeded their work during the first hours following the disaster. He didn’t like being out of touch with her, but he’d honor their request and just send a text.
“We’re going to take a walkabout,” Mike said after he’d stowed his gear under the standard issue cot. “Join us?”
Parker shook his head. “Nah. I’m gonna text Cass and do some review. Everyone should review their manuals tonight before lights out.”
It wasn’t required, but something he insisted on – having each crew member review nightly their Incident Response Pocket Guide book, discuss fire scenarios, and study the topography of the area. He’d developed a crazy idea this summer that if they proved themselves on the line, at the end of the season they could initiate the process of becoming a designated hotshot crew. The fact that folks were now referring to them as the Flatlanders was a good start. Higher-ups were starting to take notice. And with every year seeming to bring fire incidents of greater intensity, there was plenty of work to go around in the summer.
Of course, he hadn’t spoken to a soul about it. He didn’t even know if the men would be interested. But most of them were like him, working two and three jobs, scrabbling together income where they could from ranching and fighting fires. He’d love a day in the future where he could rely on income from only one job.
He whipped out his phone to text Cassie. It wasn’t quite nine, but if she’d had a full day, she might already be settled in for the night.
P: made it to camp
He placed the phone next to him and pulled out his IRPG and started with the preface on operational leadership. He’d practically memorized the preface, but it never hurt to review. Especially when heading into foreign territory. It was easy to get turned around in the trees, and easier still, to forget your training in an emergency. His phone buzzed.
C: glad to hear it. where are u?
P: south of Steamboat. U?
C: Steamboat Spgs KOA nxt to the airport
P: REALLY?
C: lol don’t sound so excited
He laughed. He couldn’t help it. Yesterday she’d been attacking a fire outside of Grand Junction.
P: KOA huh? you pilots always get first class lodging.
As much as he wanted to see her, it was impossible. They were miles outside of town, and she was on the north end right next to the airport. Closest to the helicopters. He’d have to content himself with text exchanges for the duration.
C: Aviators
P: huh?
C: You keep calling us pilots. We’re aviators ;)
P: is there an emoji for an eyeroll?
Aviators, huh? He stored that bit of information away for future use.
P: when did you get here?
C: dinner time? I MEDEVAC’d two today. One for heat exhaustion, one for rhabdo.
Parker cringed. Rhabdomyolysis was serious business, and was something he was always on the lookout for along the fireline.
C: tomorrow it’s back to bambi buckets.
P: I miss you
C: I miss you <3
He sat staring at the picture she texted him the other day, helmet in hand with her crew, in front of her helicopter. Only it had been taped up with neon pink stripes over the body, with an enormous tail sign. Easier to read from the ground, he guessed.
C: be careful tomorrow. I flew over part of the fire tonight. It’s big.
Unease settled in the pit of his stomach. “Yeah. It’s big.” He scraped a hand over his day’s growth of stubble. The weight of his responsibilities suddenly crushed in on him. He had twenty men to keep track of tomorrow and keep safe. In unfamiliar territory on terrain loaded with dry fuel.
C: you still there?
P: yeah
C: I love you. I’ll have your six from the sky.
He didn’t even know what in the hell that meant, but he loved her for saying it. Knowing she was close by, even if she was working on another part of the fire, warmed him.
P: I love you. same time tomorrow? we’re on low use regs.
C: you bet xoxo <3
Parker turned off his phone to save the battery and tucked it in his pack before turning back to his manual. Tomorrow would be a long, hot day.