For Firefighters, the Job Comes Down to Playing Percentages

Flying over the Craggie fire on Sept. 15, smokejumper Paul Hohn recalls thinking it looked like an easy job.

A bolt of lighting had struck a 70-foot-tall snag--a standing dead tree--in the Tin Cup Creek drainage of the Kalmiopsis Wilderness early that morning, and was burning in what looked like knee-high brush.

Critics would later argue the fire was tailor-made for meeting the Forest Service’s elusive goal of letting natural fires burn in wilderness to reduce the dangerous buildup of fuels left from misguided past policies of fighting all fires out.

But Tom Riley, deputy supervisor of the Siskiyou National Forest, said forest managers didn’t dare let the Craggie fire burn. Drought had left the Kalmiopsis extremely dry. Brush that grew back after the 1987 Silver Fire was 20 feet high, and a dry east wind could easily blow the fire to 62,000 acres.

When Hohn and three other smokejumpers parachuted in, they quickly found their work cut out for them. The brush was so thick they took five hours to hike a half-mile to the fire.

By the second day, they called in reinforcements, but an afternoon wind pushed the fire up the hill and it grew to 84 acres. Fire retardant bombers laid down slurry to stop the spread.

Though more than half do not, wilderness areas on national forests are supposed to have a fire plan in place that allows fires to burn if they will help the ecosystem without threatening commercial timber or people.

In this case, the plan had been suspended for an update, so the direction was clear: Fight the fire. Even if a plan had been in place, the extremely dry conditions and heavy fuels would have dictated fighting the fire, Riley said.

The fire was analyzed using a system known as Wildland Fire Situation Analysis, known as WFSA (pronounced WOOF-sah).

The fourth run of the analysis, five days into the fire, noted heavy fuels, moderate fire behavior, clear and dry weather, and firefighting resources readily available. It compared four alternatives, ranging in cost from $37,800 to $12 million. The analysis did not consider any benefits of letting the fire burn.

And firefighting cost does not figure in the decision. Safety was the top consideration, with a weight of 59%. Economics were weighted 6%, environmental threats 12%, and social concerns 12%. (Factors do not add up to 100%).

The highest-rated alternative favored maximizing firefighter safety and would cost $2.2 million. It projected six helicopters, three air tankers, 11 20-person hand crews and 130 support personnel could stop the fire at 750 acres after 10 days.

With few other fires throughout the country this late in the season, resources began flowing in. A special fire management team took over on the fourth day, when the fire was at 214 acres. Aided by water and fire retardant drops, Hotshots were able to dig line across the upper flank and head of the fire by the fifth day.

Eight days into the fire, there were 10 20-person crews, seven helicopters, and 172 support personnel, according to the Forest Service summary of the fire. Strong winds and dry lightning were forecast, but they did not materialize. Instead, rain fell the next day.

The battle was over after nine days. Infrared cameras mapped the total burn at 279 acres. The final bill was $2.2 million, of which $784,102, 36%, was for aircraft; $484,331, 22%, was for firefighters on the ground. Other personnel costs totaled $492,709, 22%.