Richland, WA—Many people unfamiliar with the Evergreen State would be surprised to learn that much of Washington is a desert. The central Columbia River Basin lies to the east of the Cascade Mountains. The mountains tend to squeeze all of the moisture from weather systems moving eastward out of the Pacific Ocean or the Gulf of Alaska. This results in the basin receiving less than ten inches of rainfall a year. It is anything but evergreen.
For the greatest part of the year, the area is a drab brown with greenery only appearing along waterways and in the numerous irrigated agricultural fields. Even trees are absent from most of the landscape. The Rattlesnake Hills, which are located here, are billed as the tallest treeless mountains in the Western Hemisphere.
After being released from duty in Mesa, Arizona I received a resource order to report to Richland, Washington, which lies in the heart of the Columbia Basin. The first of August found me enroute on the 1300-nautical mile flight. The trip was uneventful except for the shock of seeing what jet-fuel prices were across the Western States. Late in the evening I stopped in John Day, Oregon for fuel. I elected to overnight there because of time considerations. Thankfully another AT-802A from M&M Air Service was based in John Day so I would spend the evening with friends.
As I was preparing to depart on the final leg of my journey the next morning, the SEAT manager shouted from his office that he had a new order for me. It seemed that the SEAT based at Pendleton, Oregon was out of service with radio problems and there was a fire burning nearby. I quickly changed my flight plan and was soon on my way.
Upon arrival, I was briefed and loaded with retardant. Several loads later we had a line around the fire and I was given the order to return to Pendleton and hold for further instructions. The rest of the afternoon was spent getting to know and visiting with the crew at the base. Finally at 1930, I was released from the fire and told to proceed to Richland.
Arriving just before dark, I was greeted by Dean Brouillette and Eric Hagen. Dean was to be my SEAT manager for the next six weeks. He is a firefighter that hails from Richland. His knowledge of the local area and fire conditions would be of great value in the weeks to come. Eric is a Fire Management Officer with the United States Fish and Widlife Service. This was to be a USF&W contract and Eric would be calling the shots.
Over the next few days I would learn some interesting facts about where I would be flying. Richland is part of the Tri-Cities, also composed of Pasco and Kennewick. The Snake and Yakima Rivers empty into The Columbia River here, so there is a wealth of water even though it is the middle of a desert. Just north of Richland lays the Hanford Site. Roughly one-half the size of the State of Rhode Island, this United States Department of Energy unit was developed during World War II to be the home of the Manhattan Project. This is where the atomic bomb was born. The D of E continues atomic research there today and a large percentage of the nation’s radioactive materials are stored there. For reasons of national security, aircraft are asked to not over-fly the area, yet I would be working fires inside this area. The City of Richland was actually built by the government to house the workers sent there to assemble Fat Boy, the atomic bomb that would be dropped on Hiroshima.
My first week of duty in Washington was relatively slow compared to what I had been used to in Arizona. There were a few small fires that only required a load or two and I was dispatched back to Pendleton a couple of times to help out on fires there. I even made a trip up to Moses Lake to brief the crew at the Tanker Base on SEAT operations.
Temperatures in the basin had been in 90s. The grass and sagebrush had cured out to the max. Farmers in the area usually burned off the stubble left in the grain fields after harvest. August is harvest time, so it was not unusual to see several smoke columns on any given afternoon. It took a few days to get used to the sight of so many fires in the area, but after a week I hardly raised an eye to them.
The Hanford Reach is the only section of the Columbia River that remains untouched by dams or other manmade intrusions. Stretching about twenty-five miles upstream from the Tri-Cities, this pristine stretch of river contains so much natural beauty that President Clinton signed legislation in the early 90s making parts of it a national monument. National Wildlife Refuges in near proximity makes the area a national treasure that is home to Bald Eagles, elk and numerous other species. The east flank of the Monument abuts private land that is utilized for agricultural purposes.
August 10 started like any other day. We were on duty at 1000, with the morning briefing completed. A little before noon we got a heads up phone call from Eric’s office. A farmer was burning off a grain field and the flames were racing toward the Monument boundary. There was a firebreak and a dirt road at the edge of the field that they were sure would stop the fire, but we were put on alert just in case something went wrong. I got my flight suit on and my driver/loader, Gary Sprague, started stirring the retardant. We watched the smoke column whither away and had decided to stand down when the dispatch call came in. The fire had jumped the defensive lines and had gotten into the Monument.
Within moments, I was in the air and on my way. We have neither Air Attack nor aviation dispatch on this contract. I did all my flight following with Dean back at the SEAT base and all communications on the fires were with the troops on the ground. When I arrived at the incident the flames were really ripping through the tinderbox dry grass and sagebrush. I made contact with the Incident Commander. He informed me that from his vantage point he could not see the fire and that I should use whatever tactics I deemed best. The flames were racing so fast that there was no hope in getting ahead of it. So, I simply started flanking the side that threatened homes and structures. The fire engines on the ground were having a tough time getting to where they needed to be because of difficult terrain and deep sandy soil.
Load after load was dropped until darkness shut down the air operations. All our retardant was in fifty-pound buckets, which had to be mixed, eighteen per load. Needless to say, Gary and Dean were glad to see pumpkin time finally arrive. They only had twenty-five minutes per load to bust open buckets and mix the retardant. Dean made the comment that he would get some help before tomorrow.
The next morning we were in service at 0700. Flight ops began by mid-morning. Today, we would see a Skycrane in the fray. The heli-tanker was splashing hot spots while I continued building a line in the AT-802. With no Air Attack, we had to coordinate our drops with each other, but it worked out really well. By mid-afternoon, the fire was creating its own weather. Erratic winds were pushing flame fronts in all directions. On each load hauled I would get calls from different division commanders pleading for help in their respective areas. Two sets of high-tension power-lines had burned to the ground. It looked hopeless.
By 1800, the fire had burned into lighter fuels and we started to see progress. The retardant line was holding and the Skycrane had really cooled down the hot spots. The flanking line I had been building was approaching the head of the fire. I knew that if I could turn the corner before darkness fell we would have this monster whipped.
The Skycrane pilot asked how much time I had left. I replied with, “Maybe one more”.
With thirty minutes of flight time left in the daylight, I was able to turn the corner on the head and tie the line into a blacktop road. Victory at last! Back at the base was an air of celebration. Gary and Dean had gotten help with the buckets, so they were not beat, as they had been the day before. The fire had consumed 4,500 acres before it was stopped.
It is now mid-September. A cold north wind blows as raindrops splatter on the windows of the 1977 International Harvester school bus we use as a command post here in Richland. Another fire season is coming to an end. I just hope that I get to come back and play next year.