British Columbia’s fire crisis arrived decades earlier than forecast

British Columbia must adapt its forest management practices to prepare for future seasons, according to a report by Brenna Owen for The Canadian Press published by the CBC News.

The era of severe record-breaking wildfires has occurred earlier in British Columbia than previous research had projected, and experts say the disastrous 2023 season must serve as a springboard for action.

The surge stems from a combination of climate change and entrenched forest management practices, which have together created a landscape conducive to large, high-intensity blazes, says Lori Daniels, a professor in the department of forest and conservation sciences at the University of British Columbia.

“Society is already paying a huge cost for these climate change-fueled fires,” she says.

“The thing we can control in the short term is the vulnerability of the landscape,” adds Daniels.

Reducing that vulnerability means transforming how the landscape is managed. Shifting away from a timber-focused approach that prioritized conifer stocks over less-flammable broadleaf trees and ramping up prescribed burning are key to protecting communities and supporting healthy, resilient forests, says Daniels.

Canadian fires

“The sooner we do it, the better,” she adds.

Daniels is the co-author of a recent paper published by the peer-reviewed journal Nature that examined data from the last century and found an “abrupt” uptick in wildfire activity in B.C. corresponding with a warming and drying trend that began in the mid-2000s.

The province has experienced its four most severe wildfire seasons on record during the past seven years, in 2017, 2018, 2021 and 2023.

Canadian fires

“To have four of these seasons out of the last seven is shocking,” she says.

Pine beetle infestations and expanding interface also factors:  As development expands farther into the wildland/urban interface, summers in B.C. are increasingly characterized by hot, dry, and windy conditions primed for fires to burn with the speed and intensity that can overwhelm suppression efforts.

Marc-André Parisien, an Edmonton-based research scientist with the Canadian Forest Service, led the study. He underscores the significance of increasing fire intensity.

“If a fire comes in rolling as a 30-metre wall of flames, there’s not a lot you can do,” he says. “You can dump a lot of water on it, but it amounts to spitting on a campfire.”

Fuel “disaster” on Smith River Complex

thehotshotwakeup.substack.com/p/a-california-nightmare

I’ve not verified this yet, but I will. Read more at the link.

15:25 UPDATE FROM THE IMT:

We do not have a fuel disaster taking place.  We did have a fuel issue that has been resolved. 
Thank you,
Stacy King-Powers
PIO
SWIMT 2
Smith River Complex 

 

Hotshot Wake Up

Neither the USFS update nor the Inciweb page makes any mention of this.  But then the “Hotshot Wake Up” has no name or contact info attached to it. Anyone vouch for that “author” ?

Forest Service update 09/09/23
Forest Service update 09/09/23
Inciweb update 09/09/23
Inciweb update 09/09/23

And, two days later, an update:
6 Rivers

Thanks to TS for the tip and to Bill Morse for the answers.

It’s Never Over

Hotshot

Documentary film, 1 hour 42 minutes
Independent production

The best hotshot movies in the past few years are those shot by the crews themselves, bundled into visual yearbooks at the end of each fire season and posted on YouTube. Basically, they’re fire candy to keep a wildland firefighter’s mental engine running through the off-season.

Hollywood has taken a few whacks at capturing the wildland fire experience. They’re visually excellent, but consistently unauthentic — a complaint I have heard and read countless times — and those movies have ranged from okay to terrible. Now, out of the blue — or the black — comes Hotshot, a genuinely fine documentary about what it’s like to work on a hotshot crew and fight some truly nasty fires. Be glad you can’t feel the heat. This movie rewrites the definition of getting a little too close to the action.

Justine Gude
Justine Gude, screenshot from the Hotshot movie by Gabriel Kirkpatrick Mann

The person you see most in the film is Justine Gude, who was a squad boss on the Texas Canyon IHC. The crew is one of five hotshot crews on southern California’s Angeles National Forest. She goes the extra mile in all aspects to ensure she’s up to snuff to fight wildfires, and to make sure everyone survives each shift. Based on the footage in the film, no one gives Justine any more or any less crap than anyone else gets.

The narrator is Gabriel Kirkpatrick Mann, who also wrote, directed, and shot the film. The project took six years to complete. He finished shooting in 2020 and completed editing in 2022; the film has only recently been released for streaming.

“If I had only two years [to complete the film] it may have been more like Top Gun, more like rah rah stuff,” said Mann. As the movie turned out, it is haunting, intimate, wrenching, and absolutely gorgeous.

The film is unusual in that it is a documentary without interviews. A big part of that was because, when working with hotshots when you’re not a hotshot, it can be difficult to get them to open up. “They don’t want to be on camera. I was the fly on the wall shooting candid video.”

Screenshot from the movie Hotshot
Screenshot from the movie Hotshot

“There were things they didn’t want to say on camera, so I was saying it for them. I was saying what they told me.” And it works well. Watching Hotshot is like an illustrated story: the visuals dovetail perfectly with what Mann is saying. The narration has a conversational tone and an easy pace.

Mann obviously did his homework too, which is evident in the segment on wildfire history. He shows and tells how wildfire has been shaping the natural world for many thousands of years and how Native Americans learned to follow nature’s example. But the balance went awry once immigrants started putting out every fire concurrent with spreading slash everywhere. And then, in more recent years, encouraging unnatural growth in the forests while the planet warmed. Hence our current Large Fire problem.

There is also a lovely segment about the increasing use of prescribed fire and large-scale burnouts. Mann calls it “painting with fire.”

The footage is excellent throughout, and is awash in fire whorls, ember showers, gigantic smoke columns, and waves of fire washing over roads, firelines — and occasionally firefighters. For lovers of stunning fire imagery, this film is unbeatable. But be aware that there are some scenes you may wish you could unsee. Mann’s treks through burned-over suburbs and rural communities tell a tale not seen on the evening news, but which firefighters see all too frequently. Animal lovers may want to fast-forward through these parts.

The shots are taken from the fireline, from the boots of those staring down the throat of Mother Nature in a rage. Then there are up-close-and-personal shots of airtankers flooding roads with retardant, helicopters carving through the smoke spilling water from buckets and belly tanks, dozers clanking through brushfields while carving line, and firefighters with hoses fighting a losing battle against a relentless fire front.

For those who’ve been southern California hotshots, watching Hotshots from the comfort of your lazboy may spawn a variety of neural responses. You get to enjoy seeing present-day hotshots doing the same stupid shit you did when you were on a crew — making bets on who could drink a carton of spoiled milk, snorting snuff before starting a line dig, watching a rookie puke after a hell-week highballing hike up a long, hot ridge. This is also, perhaps, a good movie for hotshot candidates to watch. Or not, particularly when they get to the part about the rotten pay federal firefighters (ahem, Forestry Technicians) receive, compared with firefighters from, say, Cal Fire or L.A. County.

For non-fire viewers, or rookies, there is some basic information delivered that is artfully delivered. What is fuel? Trees, fields of brush, houses, cars, washing machines. This is clearly summarized by the narrator and backed up in the visuals: Everything that can burn will burn.

And, oh yeah, pay attention to the wind, says the narrator, showing some rather alarming horizontal flammage, such as when the fire activity near to where they are cutting line starts getting dangerously frisky: “They take a bite, pull back, then take another bite, all day, all night,” says the narrator, while viewers see a crew digging hot line, then stepping back while helicopters spill water along the hot flank, enabling the crew to resume the dig.

Hotshot screenshot
Screenshot from the Hotshot movie by Gabriel Kirkpatrick Mann

Thank god there are hotshot crews to handle these debacles. As the narrator aptly puts it, a hotshot crew is “like a Swiss Army knife with beards.” They have everything that they need and nothing that they don’t.

Mann tried to get approval from the Forest Service to get embedded with Texas Canyon and was turned down. But he decided to do it anyway. He got his own PPE, got a press pass, and outfitted a Jeep for line duty. Then he participated with the crew in their pre-season readiness training. “I went through it all with them, the PT hikes, the safety training.” The experience helped him understand, on a personal level, the depth of dedication hotshots have, and he found it humbling. “I felt I was intruding on something sacred.”

Hotshot by Gabriel Kirkpatrick Mann
Hotshot by Gabriel Kirkpatrick Mann

Even after he had finished shooting and editing the movie, he couldn’t stop running toward the smoke whenever he saw a column rising from the hills. “I was addicted, and I kept going back even after I was done with the movie.”

Watching the film can be somewhat addicting, too.  To see Hotshot, go to hotshotmovie.com where you have the option to pay $4.99 to watch the movie all you want for 48 hours, or $13 to stream it anytime you want for the rest of your life.

 

Torrential rains follow wildfires in Greece

Reuters reported today that torrential rains have flooded homes, businesses, and roads in Greece — with at least one death reported after a man died when a wall collapsed, according to fire officials on Tuesday.

The Guardian reported that Greece has been stricken by hundreds of wildfires this summer, with dozens of new fires starting each day. Most are controlled quickly but some have exceeded fire services’ capacity. One fire in the northeast has destroyed homes and vast tracts of forest since it took off on August 19.

Another fire on the island of Rhodes burned for days in July, forcing holidaymakers and locals to evacuate homes and hotels.

Storm Daniel has battered much of Greece since Monday, with  hundreds of calls to emergency services to pump out water just days after a deadly wildfire that has burned for more than two weeks in the north was finally controlled.

Meanwhile, videos posted online on August 23 show Greek members of the political extreme right illegally “arresting” migrants in Evros, a Greek region that borders Turkey. The videos show militants forcing men to sit in the dirt while other migrants were crammed into a trailer. The attackers accuse the migrants of being responsible for the widespread fires in the region.

Louisiana’s drought isn’t record-breaking, so why is its wildfire season?

The state’s largest wildfire on record is still burning, already covering more than Louisiana’s annual average of burned acres. 

The arson-caused Tiger Island Fire has burned more than 31,000 acres and is now estimated  at just 50 percent containment. An ABC News report said law enforcement are searching for the arsonist — and offering a $2000 reward.

Tiger island Fire
Tiger Island Fire, August 27 — inciweb photo.

It’s only one of the nearly 600 wildland fires that have burned across the state in 2023. The vast majority of the fires have been burning in the Beauregard Parish area near the state’s southwest corner. Officials said excess fuels from trees knocked down during hurricanes Laura and Delta in 2020 and Ida in 2021 are feeding the fires.

Some  have also blamed drought for the record fire season.

However, the Pelican State’s drought isn’t close to breaking drought records, so why is it breaking wildfire records?

Nearly all of Louisiana is under severe, extreme, or exceptional drought, according to the U.S Drought Monitor. Despite that, NOAA data shows the state’s current drought isn’t close to being one of the driest on record. July of this year was the state’s 17th driest on record, with the period between June and July recorded as the 14th driest on record and the period between May and July being the 11th driest on record.

So, if drought isn’t the primary cause of the state’s wildland fires, what is? Other than a record-breaking number of acres burned, Louisiana this year is also breaking numerous temperature records.

July was Louisiana’s hottest month ever recorded, the National Weather Service reported, and Gov. John Bel Edwards declared a state of emergency on August 11 when heat indices peaked at 120 degrees. Heat smashed the highest temperature records in numerous areas across Louisiana on August 27.

Drought can contribute to drying, but record-breaking heat can worsen and increase withering, priming vegetation into excellent wildfire fuel, according to the Environmental Defense Fund.

Hotter temperatures evaporate more moisture from soil and vegetation, drying out trees, shrubs and grasses, and turning leaf litter and fallen branches into kindling,” according  to the EDF. The extreme temperatures showed just how much of a chokehold the heat had on wildfires in the region when intense downpours on August 29 did little to help with numerous wildfires throughout the state.

Under the most extreme circumstances, Louisiana could see upwards of a 12-degree average temperature increase over the next 75 years, and if it does, the state’s bayous should expect wildfires to become an even more common occurrence.


BY THE WAY, loyal fans and other readers, let me introduce our new pyrojournalist Hunter Bassler, hired by me and the IAWF after a recommendation by Judd Slivka, who was for many years the best fire reporter in the western United States (besides Jeff Barnard and the inimitable Sherry Devlin), whom I’m sure many of you remember from his fire reporting days with the Arizona Republic.

Hunter BasslerHunter Bassler is a digital producer and reporter for KSDK 5 On Your Side in St. Louis, Missouri, reporting on environmental, climate, and infrastructure news and issues. Hunter was also a digital producer and reporter for 12News in Phoenix, focused on Arizona’s environmental water crisis, infrastructure, and history. Before that Hunter reported on Brexit and Artificial Intelligence in Brussels at the regulatory wire service MLex, wrote and produced content on global free speech issues for the online and NPR-member station program Global Journalist, and worked as multimedia editor for Columbia, Missouri’s entertainment magazine Vox.

Hunter graduated from the Reynolds Journalism Institute at the University of Missouri with a bachelor’s in Convergence Journalism. In their spare time, Hunter enjoys watching movies, hiking, and spending time with the love of their life, Jess.

 ~ Kelly Andersson

Louisiana’s governor asks the impossible: Please don’t barbecue on Labor Day

One look at Louisiana’s traditional barbecue practice can set off alarm bells in the heads of firefighters.

The French Louisianan practice of Cochon de lait (co-shaun-du-lay) translates literally to “suckling pig” and involves pit roasting a young pig. Images of the practice show a long row of logs and hot coals blazing with high flames surrounded with split hogs hung on racks.

Cochon de laits were originally cooked over fireplaces in early-American kitchens, but the most common method today is in an outdoor cooking shed, grill or open fire pit,” according to the state’s official travel authority. “A fire that is constantly maintained should cook a 50-pound pig in about five or six hours, giving you plenty of time to kick back and relax with family and friends. It’s a good bet you’ll find it at a variety of fairs, festivals and tailgates around the state.”

The very open flame barbecue practice, along with the state’s affinity with smoked meats, shows why Louisiana Gov. John Bel Edwards may have felt it was necessary to explicitly ask the state’s residents to not barbecue for Labor Day weekend — and the beginning of the football season this year — as numerous wildfires burn across the state.

“We know [Labor Day] typically involves a lot of cookouts and barbecues, especially with the return of football,” Edwards said during a press conference on Aug. 30. “I’m asking that people not engage in barbecuing and so forth outside where a fire can start.”

The request itself isn’t out of the ordinary. Louisiana has been under a statewide burn ban since August because of extreme heat, widespread severe drought, and ongoing wildfires in the southwestern portion of the state. The Louisiana Department of Agriculture and Forestry also banned prescribed burns, and Edwards prohibited all agricultural burning with an executive order. However, what media found especially unusual about the governor’s request was that it coincided with the weekend that rings in the final days of summer barbecuing and the beginning of LSU football tailgating barbecuing.

“Let’s be patient and not create more work for firefighters in Louisiana,” Edwards said. “We need to prevent what is already a serious situation from becoming worse.”

The state’s residents may need to be very patient. This year’s burn ban has already far exceeded the length of the state’s previous statewide burn ban in 2015, which lasted only 10 days. On August 7 Louisiana Fire Marshal Daniel Wallis expanded the in-effect burn ban to include burning on both public and private property.

“This new burn ban order … prohibits ALL private burning, with no limitations,” the Office of Louisiana State Fire Marshal said. “The already extremely dry conditions statewide, and the concern over first responder safety in these dangerously high temperatures, have worsened as wildfires spread across Louisiana and significant rain relief remains elusive in weather forecasts.”

Time will tell whether Louisianans will obey the burn ban to stop further wildfire tragedies, or stick to tradition and risk igniting more fires.