Suggestions for a medical program on a hand crew

wildfire in Alaska
File photo of wildfire in Alaska. BLM Alaska Fire Service.

Crew Medical Program — Structure and Guidelines

By Liam DiZio, Pioneer Peak Interagency Hotshot Crew

Lacking from documents outlining wildland fire crew structure are guidelines for a crew medical program. With 20+ crewmembers, crews are often their own best resource for coordinating patient care and extraction. Crew medical programs, then, must be based on this principle of self-sufficiency. This document aims to outline a sample crew medical program structure defining personnel structure, training, equipment, and standard operating procedures (SOPs) to support a strong crew medical program. The goal of this document is to serve as a resource for crew medics and further the goal of standardizing robust crew medical programs in wildland fire. This document applies to any regularly organized wildland fire crew.

Medical Program Personnel Structure

Structuring a crew’s medical personnel ensures a consistent product of patient care and equipment accountability year to year. The suggested structure looks as follows:

Lead Medic
Assistant Medic
Line Medic                    Line Medic

Duties of above personnel are described below.

Lead Medic

The lead medic is the top of the accountability hierarchy for crew medical equipment and care. The lead medic begins the season by coordinating early season medical training and supply logistics. They then then maintain and inventory crew medical equipment and ensure the correct complement of crew medical gear makes it to the fireline daily. The lead is also responsible for patient care and associated medical paperwork. Lastly, the lead medic maintains a relationship with support personnel, taking advantage of training opportunities and organizing seasonal medical supply orders. Success in this position requires daily effort and expertise in a side of fire unknown to most. This role is most appropriate for senior firefighter or below.

Assistant Medic

The assistant medic is responsible for assisting the lead in all duties. The assistant serves as an additional point of contact for crewmembers and assumes lead’s function in their absence or in split squad configuration. Assistant medics should be familiar with all crew medical equipment, medical paperwork, medical supply logistics, and training needs. This role is most appropriate for senior firefighter or below.

Line Medic

Line medics are additional designated medical personnel on the crew. Having two additional line medics ensures that medical knowledge is spread throughout squads and tool/saw teams. Line medics are accountable for crew medical gear on the fireline and patient care in a trauma scenario. Line medics are familiar with contents and function of crew medical equipment. This role is most appropriate for senior firefighter or below.

All four designated medics should hold current EMT-B qualifications or above, ideally supplemented with real world experience. Successful crew medics come from various backgrounds such as civilian EMS, military medicine, and ski patrol. Further qualifications and endorsements allow the crew to carry additional equipment such as IV/IO fluids, various drugs, and advanced airway products.

Training

At the beginning of each season, all crewmembers require some form of medical refresher. This training can occur over one or more days of critical training. Training evolutions should include lecture, hands on skills practice, CPR certification, and medical scenarios.

Lecture

Taught by the lead and assistant, a medical lecture should include information on the crew’s medical equipment, medical mentality, medical incident SOPs, basic trauma care, common fireline medical emergencies, and minor fireline medical issues. Crewmembers should also be briefed on who their lead/assistant/line medics are and the crew SOP for calling out a medical incident on the radio.

Skills Practice

Following the lecture, crewmembers cycle through skills stations learning hemorrhage control and crew extraction platform procedures. These are the skills non medically trained crewmembers are most likely to perform in the field. The hemorrhage control station should include hands on tourniquet and wound packing training. The extraction platform station should include simulated carries and lessons on proper platform set-up and storage.

CPR

Professional CPR training can fit anywhere in the crew’s critical training and can be taught by outside resources or qualified crewmembers.

Scenario

Continue reading “Suggestions for a medical program on a hand crew”

A fire supervisor asks, “Why didn’t I see this coming?”

Fire personnel and mental health issues

Eclipse Complex firefighters
Firefighters on the Eclipse Complex of fires, Klamath NF, 2017. Photo by B. Patton. InciWeb.

From Bill: I have been communicating for a few weeks with a U.S. Forest Service Forestry Technician about an article they wanted to submit about helping employees who are struggling with mental health issues. The text arrived by email yesterday:

Sorry for the delay. I’ve actually been really busy at work, and then I had an employee resign for mental health reasons today.  For that reason I don’t want to put this off anymore.

Here is the article. The author wished to remain anonymous.


It has now been over a year since the start of the 2020 fire season.  It has also been just over a year since the COVID-19 pandemic truly began affecting my life, and the lives of the people I work with.  A year ago I was onboarding my crew in full COVID PPE, issuing gear and sending them home to telework while we figured out how to fight fire during a pandemic.  I was legitimately thrilled to start the 2021 season, thinking the pandemic and the stress was behind us and that finally we could get back to ‘normal’.

But today I had a talk with one of my employees about their incredibly difficult off-season and the mental health struggles they’ve been dealing with.  The details of their struggle aren’t critical here.  It could be about money, family, a relationship, personal health, or simply happiness and life satisfaction.  What is important is that since the end of the 2020 fire season, almost half of the employees I supervise have approached me with mental health concerns just like these.  Yes, you read that right.  Nearly half of my employees are struggling to cope to the extent that they approached me needing help and advice.  And while I was aware, as I’m sure you are, that the pandemic has caused trauma, stress, depression, and self harm at unprecedented levels potentially not seen before, it hadn’t personally affected me until now.  And now it’s here, and not in a small way.  This is not an anomaly. This is a trend.

At first I had a serious bout of self reflection and introspection.  “What have I done to these people that they’re hurting so badly?”  “What happened last season to push them in this direction?”  “Did I drive them too hard?”  “Why didn’t I see this coming?”  I consulted with some of my mentors and realized that no, it isn’t necessarily me.  It’s us.  It’s our culture.  We think we can handle just about anything.  We regularly and voluntarily place ourselves into environments that define the word stress, and we do so with big dirty grins on our faces.  And as the season grinds on we find a few ways to cope, and they’re usually extremely unhealthy.  It should not surprise us that this approach is bound to break down.  But one thing we don’t do is talk about how we’re feeling.  We grind it out because we know winter is coming.  And we think that will help.  But what if it doesn’t?  I’m writing today to say that it doesn’t.  Winter unemployment wasn’t a holiday.  Fire season was a holiday from reality.  And when work ends, the harsh reality of “real life” is waiting there staring you in the face.  And now we are returning to work not refreshed and fit and ready to go, but drained from a stressful winter.  And if this problem exists where I work, I truly believe it must be happening where you work, whether it’s being talked about or not.

So here’s my advice.  I’m not a mental health professional so take it for what it’s worth.  I’m just a guy who’s done this for a little while.

Firefighters – know that you are not alone.  Literally everyone experiences the same anxiety and struggles just like you do, in different ways and at different times.  The past 12 months have been brutal.  Everyone on my crew broke their career overtime records in 2020, and did so while it felt like the world was imploding around us, and while we were isolated from friends and family.  Stress on top of stress for 6-8 months followed by being set adrift and alone into the world once the snow flies is mentally taxing in a normal year.  Doing all of that during a pandemic was bound to push people over the edge.  I only ask that you realize that we are here for you.  Your supervisors.  Your coworkers.  Even the random people you meet for one shift on a fire and never see again.  We’re here for you because we are you.  We experience it too.  And while we may not have all the answers, we’re all better off seeking them together.  Speak up.  Your voice will empower the voices of others.  And there are free and anonymous resources to connect you with professionals regardless of which agency you work for. Talking about it will help.

Supervisors – Make yourself available and approachable.  I am as guilty as the rest of you.  In our line of work, I am a stereotypical fireline supervisor.  I am loud and outspoken, and I portray a confidence that I’m sure tells my subordinates that I am more or less bulletproof and immune from these issues personally.  That is not helpful.  That does not give your people the confidence to speak up.  Show humility.  Lose the ego.  Let them see your weaknesses.  Empower your employees with the knowledge they need to get help.  Give them contact information for the Employee Assistance Program (EAP).  While I am at times a major skeptic when it comes to believing “the agency” has our back, I can say for certain that my agency’s EAP has done incredible work for the people I’ve put in touch with it.  And even if no one has approached you for help, you can still foster an environment that encourages open communication and the ability to come to you with issues.  The egomaniacal “shut up and dig” approach may work in some cases, but this is not one of them.

Thanks for indulging me in my brief but passionate soapbox rant.  I don’t claim to have the answers.  I have no formal training in mental health or therapy.  But I’ve done this job for a long time, and I’m seeing looks on faces I’ve never seen before.  We’ve been getting better recently about talking.  Opening up.  Discussing as opposed to directing.  But I believe we still have work to do if we’re going to create a culture and a family that feels comfortable speaking up and opening up about mental health.  Life is stressful enough these days.  Doing what we do on top of all of that is bound to be just a little too much sometimes.  Drop the ego and be a human.  A little empathy goes a long way.  Have a safe season.


 

Note from Bill:

Suicide rates among wildland firefighters have been described as “astronomical.

Help is available for those feeling really depressed or suicidal.

Opinion: A USFS firefighter in Oregon can be paid more at McDonald’s

A view from under a smokejumper canopy

Boise BLM smokejumpers
Boise BLM smokejumpers. BLM photo by Carrie Bilbao July 28, 2020.

(This article first appeared at The Oregonian)

By Ben Elkind

I would almost do it for free. The feeling of complete focus and calm after jumping out of the airplane is hard to find elsewhere these days. But the chaos from life and the fire below are making me rethink my career, and that’s a big problem for Oregonians.

I’ve been a smokejumper for the US Forest Service for eight years and worked on the Mt. Hood Hotshot Fire Crew before that. I grew up in Oregon and can’t stand to see the wildfires ravaging our public lands and communities, while the smoke threatens our public health.

The Forest Service employs the largest firefighting force in the west, yet the agency refuses to rise to the challenge of climate change and the growing demand that increased fires, short-staffing and low pay presents for our workforce.

Vacancies throughout the west limit our firefighting ability. Fire engines sit idle and unstaffed in many parts of our state, and the number of “Type-II” incident management teams – charged with managing large fires around the northwest – has decreased from ten to seven since 2014. The teams that remain are short-staffed and spread thin. This is the obvious outcome in a profession that I’ve never heard anyone recommend to their children.

As the cost of living and home prices rise in the west, the Forest Service can no longer retain its employees when starting pay is $13.45 an hour. At the Lincoln City McDonald’s, just west of Otis, another community nearly erased from the map by wildfires, a sign in the window advertised starting pay is $15 an hour. My wife joked that I should apply there for more job security. She’s right. A career with McDonald’s is currently more promising than federal wildland firefighting.

I’m an incident commander with advanced qualifications, supervising dozens of resources and fire crews on fires, yet I’ve never earned more than $20 an hour in my 14 years as a professional wildland firefighter. I make decisions that can cost millions of dollars with lives hanging in the balance, yet I am paid more like a teenager working a summer job than a highly experienced professional. Last summer, I trained someone from Seattle Fire who earned more in two weeks than I earned in a 6-month fire season.

The cost of paying living wages to our firefighters pales by comparison with the costs that devastating wildfires have on our state. The costs in Oregon from the 2020 fires alone are in the billions of dollars, and that doesn’t include the mental toll it took on our citizens. My pregnant wife was home with our toddler duct-taping paper towels on a fan to try to filter the smoke, while I was working on the fire that would burn from Warm Springs past Detroit and toward Portland.

I’ve personally seen the experience level drop rapidly on fires over the past decade as people find work that is more predictable and safer, and affords them a better work/life balance. This leads to higher fire costs simply because we aren’t as experienced at fighting fire as we used to be. When training costs are so high, retention is paramount to fiscal responsibility.

Prescribed burns and hazardous fuels reduction are buzzwords politicians and media use, but the reality is that there aren’t people willing to take on that dangerous job anymore at $13.45 an hour. The limiting factor is staffing.

Fire season in 2021 is now underway in the drought-stricken western U.S., yet there have been no policy changes at the firefighting level, or legislatively.

Talking about wildfires, climate change, prescribed burning is great. But our citizens and firefighting workforce demand action. I ask for your help, to demand a better investment of our money, and to preserve what parts of Oregon we have left for future generations.

Smokejumpers
Smokejumpers. BLM photo.

Ben Elkind is a smokejumper for the U.S. Forest Service based out of Redmond.

Mass Bird Die-Off Linked to Wildfires and Toxic Gases

Using observations from crowdsourced science and weather location data, researchers concluded that wildfires caused a mass die-off of birds in the western and central United States in 2020.

By Joshua Rapp Learn

After an abnormally large number of migratory birds turned up dead in people’s backyards in Colorado and other parts of western and central U.S. states, locals began to document their observations on a crowdsourced science platform called iNaturalist. Within the app, a special project was set up specifically for this die-off, which occurred in August and September 2020, so that records of the dead birds could be compiled together.

Around the same period as the birds’ deaths, more than 3 million hectares (7.8 million acres) of land burned, which resulted in habitat loss and the emission of toxic compounds that threaten the health of both avian species and humans. In addition, snowstorms struck parts of the Northwest in early September while these birds were in the midst of their annual migration. Some areas experienced temperature drops of as much as 40°C (72°F) in just a few hours.

Mountain Bluebird, male
Mountain Bluebird, male. Photo by Bill Gabbert.

Researchers heard of this die-off event and wanted to see whether there was a link between the birds’ deaths and the other major events (wildfires and snowstorms) occurring in the United States at the time. In a new study published in GeoHealth, Yang et al. used the iNaturalist data, which included recordings of a number of migratory species such as warblers, geese, hummingbirds, swallows, flycatchers, and sparrows. The scientists also studied map readings that showed where observations were taken on iNaturalist to compare the locations of the birds’ deaths with the locations of the wildfires and storms.

Their findings were starkly clear. “The wildfire and also the toxic air were the two factors that influenced the birds’ mortality,” said Anni Yang, a postdoctoral fellow in spatial ecology at Colorado State University and one of the study’s authors. There was a strong correlation between the observations of dead birds and wildfires and the toxic gases they produced, but not with the early winter storms.

“The birds are sensitive to the environment,” Yang said. The respiratory system of avian species in particular easily can be damaged by air pollution. Although wildfires have always occurred and birds have evolved to cope with them in some measure, the combination of climate change and decades of fire suppression in parts of the United States has led to fires that burn far hotter and larger than fires that burned in centuries past. The larger fires could cause problems that birds nowadays aren’t capable of dealing with.The researchers also discovered that there were some differences in local areas. In parts of California, for example, more bird deaths occurred farther from the wildfires. The reason could be secondary impacts of the fires affecting humidity levels, which could lead to the deaths of birds in hot, humid air over the ocean.The researchers also noticed other trends. Land cover had an impact on bird deaths; the data showed that more birds died in urban areas. According to the authors, the reason could be known issues that affect birds, such as building strikes. But Yang noted that this correlation may be slightly biased because of quarantining due to the pandemic. In other words, people were spending more time in urban areas and perhaps paying more attention to dead birds around their homes, which inadvertently may have boosted the numbers in cities compared with rural areas.Yang also suggested that the lack of correlation between bird deaths and the snowstorms could be explained by shortcomings in the crowdsourced science application. In that case, fewer people may have been going outside during the bad weather, which could translate to fewer observations of dead birds.

Yang said other local factors might have played roles in the deaths of some species. The researchers looked at all bird deaths equally, but different species could be affected in different ways by climate events like wildfire smoke or a snowstorm.

Rongting Xu, an ecosystem modeler at Oregon State University and another of the paper’s authors, said that it would be great to run the same study over multiple years, comparing the summer of 2020 with previous summers, for example, to see whether wildfires or early snowstorms in other years caused similar die-offs. Such long-term examinations could also reveal whether factors like climate change are playing a role in bird deaths, she said. (GeoHealthhttps://doi.org/10.1029/2021GH000395, 2021)

—Joshua Rapp Learn (@JoshuaLearn1), Science Writer


This article first appeared at EOS, Science News by AGU.
Citation: Learn, J. R. (2021), Mass bird die-off linked to wildfires and toxic gases, Eos, 102, https://doi.org/10.1029/2021EO156447. Published on 26 March 2021.

 

An introduction to the BLM’s 19 hand crews

Long Draw Fire
Long Draw Fire in Oregon. Photo by Kevin Abel, BLM.

By Steve Shaw, BLM Fire Operations

The perfect harmony of 20 souls. Each one with just a bit more sweat and grit as the one before. The simple gratification of achievement, thanks only to the will and power of heart, mind and muscle.

The Bureau of Land Management Fire hand crew program consists of 19 crews spread across BLM’s diverse landscape, from Fairbanks, Alaska to Bakersfield, California, to Worland, Wyoming, and to Jackson, Mississippi. Each location offers hand crew members endless opportunities for professional and personal growth along with direct access to some of the best recreation on the planet. The hand crew program consists of Interagency Hotshot Crews, or IHC, and the only federal hand crews specifically established to provide opportunities for our nation’s military veterans.

The 2021 fire year starts in Jackson, Mississippi with the Jackson Interagency Hotshots. Established in 1997, the crew is the BLM’s first and only wildland fire resource east of the Mississippi River, with a mission that includes providing employment opportunities for students at historic black colleges and universities. The Jackson IHC typically spends the first half of the fire year in the eastern states assisting interagency partners with prescribed fire and wildland fire suppression. The latter half of the year, Jackson makes the annual trek west to join western firefighting forces for the normal peak of the fire year.

Silver State Interagency Hotshot Crew
Silver State Interagency Hotshot Crew igniting the 2016 Airport Road South Prescribed Fire in Nevada. BLM photo.

Interagency Hotshot Crews are some of the nation’s most highly trained, experienced, and physically conditioned wildland firefighting resources. The first IHCs were established in southern California in the 1940s by the USDA Forest Service and have since multiplied to near 110 total crews between all federal agencies and three IHCs hosted by Utah and Alaska. All IHCs meet the requirements found in the Standards for Interagency Hotshot Crew Operations. BLM’s IHC program began in the late 70s with the Silver State IHC in Nevada. Silver State’s home base and fire station is tucked on the east slope of the Sierra Nevada mountain range, just south of Carson City. The Silver State fire station was built in 2012, purposely designed and constructed to house the diverse gear, equipment, and employees assigned to IHCs. Additional IHC hand crews with purpose-built IHC fire stations are the Diamond Mountain IHC in Susanville, California, Ruby Mountain IHC in Elko, Nevada, Craig IHC in Colorado, and Snake River IHC in Pocatello, Idaho.

In southern Arizona, BLM’s newest hand crew, the Aravaipa Veteran IHC, also begins the annual fire year in March. Joined by Lakeview Veterans IHC in Klamath Falls, Oregon, they comprise the only two hotshot crews that blend traditional IHC traditions with an environment and atmosphere for military veterans. The two hand crews meet all IHC standards but add a mission that strives to be comprised completely of veterans. Aravaipa’s home base is uniquely situated on the Fort Huachuca U.S. Army Installation in Sierra Vista, a location that benefits both the Army and the BLM.

Devils Canyon Veteran Hand Crew
Devils Canyon Veteran Hand Crew in 2017. Photo by Bryan Nealy, BLM.

The BLM Veteran hand crew program began in 2012 with the establishment of the Vegas Valley Hand Crew in Las Vegas, stationed in the picturesque Red Rocks National Conservation Area. Like all BLM hand crews, Vegas Valley spends the summer months crisscrossing the western states in a fleet of specially designed wildland fire vehicles. The fleet includes two pickup trucks and two custom built crew carriers, designed by the National Fire Equipment Program at NIFC. The crew carriers become the adhoc home for each crew member, each with a specific seat and window to thousands of miles of the country. The BLM Veteran hand crew program also includes the Folsom Lake Veteran Hand Crew in Placerville, California, Medford and Spokane Hand Crews in Oregon/Washington, Montana’s Billings Hand Crew, and Devils Canyon Hand Crew in Worland, Wyoming. While all hand crews meets the same National Wildfire Coordinating Group, or NWCG, standards, each one brings their own diverse skillsets, specialties, and traditions.

As the fire year trends towards the hottest months, the remaining BLM IHCs begin their fire year in early May. Joining the above mentioned IHCs are the Kern Valley IHC in Bakersfield, California, Vale IHC in Oregon, and Bonneville IHC in Salt Lake City, Utah. The two remaining BLM IHCs are jointly stationed in Fairbanks, Alaska. The Midnight Sun and Chena IHCs were established in 1985, both hosted by the BLM Alaska Fire Service. Both IHCs spend the first half of the fire year suppressing wildfires across the Last Frontier. These IHCs commonly travel via airplane and helicopter through the Alaskan tundra and spend up to 21 days in remote fire camps. Summer rains in Alaska see both IHCs fly to the “Lower 48” and retrieve crew vehicles at NIFC before joining summer firefighting efforts.

BLM Jackson Interagency Hotshot Crew
The BLM Jackson Interagency Hotshot Crew at the 2018 Spring Creek Fire near Blanca, Colorado. Photo by Jamie Schnick, BLM.

BLM hand crews find closure in October with seasonal employees embarking on well deserved time off and permanent employees starting the annual refurbishing of gear and equipment and starting planning and hiring for the next fire year. The application period for crew member positions begins in early fall, with most selections made in February. Permanent hand crew positions are rare and are advertised on usajobs.gov.

Whether a single fire year or an entire career, BLM’s hand crews provide much more than a modest paycheck. The real value lives in the lifelong memories, friendships, and sweat soaked footsteps across some of the most remote and stunning corners of our beautiful planet.

For more information visit nifc.gov/careers to learn more about #FireJob opportunities. It’s #NotYourOrdinaryJob.

BLM Folsom Lake Veteran Hand Crew
Photo by the BLM Folsom Lake Veteran Hand Crew in 2016.

Note from Bill: The title of the article was edited to correctly indicate that not all of the BLM crews are Interagency Hotshot Crews.

Opinion: We need to act now to fight wildfires

Much of the Western U.S. is in severe to exceptional drought

Drought monitor, March 16, 2021
Drought monitor, March 16, 2021

This article was first published at Writers on the Range

By Harrison Raine

For the 2021 fire season, the writing is on the wall. The West, despite a few days of intense winter, is far drier than it was leading up to last year’s record-breaking fires.

As a hotshot crew member, the reality of what’s to come fills me with two distinct thoughts: money and dread. With my financial stability tied to overtime pay, I know that my pockets will be full when I am laid off next winter. But the unrelenting fires that stand between now and then make me nervous.

I also know that I am not alone. Across the West, people in homes and communities are filled with anxiety as they look at dry timber and brown hillsides that are usually white this time of year. For them, when the air fills with smoke, there won’t be any fire paychecks, just a prolonged sense of uncertainty.

Drought levels often serve as a good indicator of the fires to come, and things are far worse now than they were in the build-up to 2020. Rich Tinker, an author of the U.S. Drought Monitor at the Climate Prediction Center, told me, “In 2020, the highest we got to anywhere, was a D2 — Severe Drought. Now we are looking at D3 — D4 — Extreme and Exceptional Drought across much of the West and almost all of the Southwest.”

wildfire
Fire on the Sawtooth National Forest in Idaho. Photo by Harrison Raine

When Nick Nauslar, a fire meteorologist at the National Interagency Fire Center, talks about the fire season to come, he’s particularly blunt: “The deck is stacked against us. I fully expect a busier season than normal across the Southwest.”

For Tinker and Nauslar, the areas of concern primarily encompass the Four Corners states of Utah, Colorado, New Mexico and Arizona. When you put together light snowpack, dry fuels and high temperatures, every wildland firefighter knows what that means.

In my time as wildland firefighter, the question I get asked again and again is whether I am ever scared. The answer to this question is “yes,” but not in the life or death way in which its asked.

There are far more constant threats than the flames themselves. Smoke, for one. Carbon emissions, for another.

I think I’m worried most by the knowledge that damage from these wildfires affects the health of millions of people, and that the large wildfires of today are ensuring bigger ones in the future. Everyone should be concerned about this reality, not just those of us on the fire line.

Wildfires and their management are known by some researchers as a “wicked problem,” where no optimal solution exists. For decades, forest managers were convinced that suppressing all fires was the answer. But we’ve known for a while now how misplaced those beliefs were, even as many agencies cling to that failed strategy of a century ago.

Jerry Williams, former fire and aviation director for the U.S. Forest Service, puts it best about our stubborn wrongheadedness: “Every year we set a new record, we invest more in (fire) suppression, invest less in mitigation and wonder why we’re not getting on top of it.” If someone who directed the largest wildland firefighting force in the world makes this statement, it’s probably time to try something else.

wildfire
Brian Head Fire, Near Brian Head, UT, Dixie National Forest, 2017. Photo by Harrison Raine

What we need are policies and programs that address wildfires in ways beyond putting fires out. This Spring, Colorado showed that it’s willing to learn from last season’s pain when Gov. Jared Polis and State legislators from both sides of the aisle released a series of bills aimed at wildfire mitigation, not only wildfire suppression.

These bills are exciting for several reasons such as: allocation of millions for forest health projects and grants for communities and individual homeowners to carry out their own hazard reduction projects. Also there is an effort to seek out incentives for markets to address fuel mitigation through biomass energy.

The millions the state spends now on restoring forests and hardening homes pale in comparison to the costs of firefighting and rebuilding homes. Every dollar spent on prevention saves $17 in suppression, according to a report from former Utah Gov. Gary R Herbert.

There is also a bill to allow former inmates with firefighting experience to seek future employment with the state, which will help ensure a consistent workforce.

I hope the federal government is taking notes.

wildfire
Cameron Peak Fire, Near Red Feather Lakes, Arapahoe and Roosevelt National Forest, Colorado – 2020. Photograph Harrison Raine.

Harrison Raine is a contributor to Writers on the Range, a nonprofit dedicated to spurring lively conversation about the West. He started fighting wildfires in 2016 and is a recent graduate of Colorado College.