by Marc Mullis
Most people associate the summer months with vacation time. The kids are out of school, the weather is predictable and all the major theme parks and national attractions are open for business. Millions clog the highways and airlines as they head for summer getaway destinations. Such is not the case for everyone. If you are a wild land firefighter, summer is the busy time of year. The major fire season in the United States usually starts in May and stretches well into October. During this period, firefighters are locked into a demanding job that does not allow for time off or breaks.
This was the position I found myself when early July rolled around. I had been on an Exclusive Use Contract with the Bureau of Land Management in Safford, Arizona since mid-May. There had been very little activity as the slowest fire season in memory trudged through the summer heat of the arid southwest. Our mission on most days was just keeping ourselves occupied. The fire dispatches were few and far between.
One morning my boredom was interrupted by a call from my boss, George Mitchell, Jr. He said he had lined up some brush control work in the Big Bend region of south Texas that needed to be completed before the end of the month. The seasonal monsoon rains occur in Big Bend this time of year and the moisture was needed to activate the material that would get rid of the nasty brush and cactus that infests this part of the Chihuahua Desert. He asked if I would take a break from firefighting and go do the work. Big Bend is one of my favorite parts of the country. So, I jumped at the chance. George said he would arrange for another pilot to fill in for me during a two-week relief cycle. He told me that we should be finished in about a week. Hanging up the phone, I thought to myself, “This is going to be a great summer vacation.”
A few days later, I boarded an airliner in Phoenix bound for Beaumont where I would pick up the Air Tractor AT-502A that I would be piloting to complete the jobs that lay ahead. As the stifling Arizona heat faded behind me, I looked forward to the adventure that was yet to come. I had not had a summer break in years.
I was to meet my ground crew, consisting of George and driver Jeff Daniels in Van Horn. A few delays for weather and one electrical glitch slowed my trip to the Big Bend region, but I finally arrived. This dusty little West Texas town is situated about half way between Odessa and El Paso.
We had two jobs to do in Van Horn; both would be applying Spike pellets to control Greasewood/ Creosote in the beautiful Davis Mountains. The aircraft was equipped with a Duke Metering System to ensure that the pellets were distributed at the rate of three-quarter pounds of active ingredient per acre and a Satloc M-3 GPS system for proper guidance. GIS technician, Larry Mills, had developed shape files for the jobs. Once these were loaded into the onboard computer, finding the tracts to be treated in this vast unmarked land was a breeze.
After three days of dodging monsoonal thunderstorms, we completed the jobs and headed down the road to Marfa, Texas. Marfa is known as the Gateway to Big Bend Country and is also famous for the Marfa Lights. These are strange lights that glow above the southern horizon on dark nights. The state has even built a viewing area for the public to see this strange phenomena.
The majority of the Spike work to be flown out of Marfa was located fifty-five miles south of the airport. This very rugged and desolate country lies just north of the Rio Grande River. While I was out on my two and one-half hour loads, I never saw another human being. Fog in the mornings and thunderstorms in the afternoons plagued us for our entire stay. It took several more days than we had planned on to complete the job, but we persevered and got it done.
Completing the work in Marfa, we were off to the Stovall Ranch. This 93,000-acre spread lies at the end of twenty-eight miles of torturous rock road. It is a three-hour drive to the nearest town of Alpine. We would be staying in a hunting lodge and our only contact with the outside world would be through a satellite phone that belonged to rancher Eric Stovall.
I could not think of a better place to spend my vacation. George assured me that we would only be there for one night, but we brought enough food for two.
Working a ranch this large and remote almost always requires an aircraft. Eric had three, a beautiful Cessna 180 and two Bell 47 helicopters. He has a well maintained, five thousand foot airstrip, so my work would require very little ferrying. When Jeff finally arrived, we began removing the Duke Metering system and installing a spray system, as this job would entail spraying a liquid herbicide, Tordon to clear the pastures of cactus.
It was late and we were tired by the time we finished the change over. We headed to the hunting lodge on the other side of the ranch. Eric joined us and we watched the sun sink over the Santiago Mountains while we grilled pork-chops over glowing mesquite coals. The cold beer never tasted so good and soon the sleep monster chased us to our bunks.
I was in the air at first light the next day intent on being done in time to get back to Alpine and civilization by nightfall. Things were going smoothly and the AT-502A was eating up the acres until at mid-morning the generator suddenly went off line. I finished the load and landed with an uneasy feeling. We discovered that the 150-amp circuit breaker on the firewall had blown. I made the decision to continue working without the air conditioner, which was the only accessory that drew enough amperage to blow the breaker. Five minutes into the flight it blew again, I knew we had big problems! After several calls on Eric’s phone we determined that my starter generator had failed. We were dead in the water. I could not fly out because there was not enough battery power left to start the engine. We could not have been in a worse position.
Once again Eric’s satellite phone saved the day. We made contact with mechanic, Lex Hines in Seminole, Texas. He located a new unit and agreed to fly into the ranch strip and install it. The only problem was that it would be the next day before he could make it down. We would be spending our second night in the lodge. Good thing we had brought extra food.
The next morning came and went as we listened for the drone of Lex’s Seneca. By one P.M., we knew that we would be spending a third night in the lodge. We were down to Snickers and jerky, but I loved every minute of it. Finally, at mid-afternoon we heard the growl of the twin-engine Piper. Within an hour Lex had the starter generator installed along with a new set of batteries. I was soon back at work and by evening only needed a few hours to finish.
George had been worried about rats being in the lodge before we ever got to the ranch. When we had arrived Eric told him “Don’t worry about rats George, I caught two bull snakes last week and turned them loose in the lodge. There shouldn’t be any rats”. George had not slept in two nights worrying about those snakes and now we had nothing to eat but stale jerky. He and Jeff were ready to get back to their cell phones and computers, while I enjoyed the vastness and solitude of this great countryside. It was a long ride back to the lodge; we rode in silence dreading a long hungry night.
About an hour before dark, we were sitting on the porch throwing rocks and breaking sticks when we heard the rattle of a pick-up coming down the rock road. It was Eric and he had a tray full of the prettiest rib eyes we had ever laid our eyes on and a chest full of cold beer to wash them down. Life was good here in Big Bend Country.
When I arrived back to Ft. Stockton the next day, I discovered that my air tanker had been moved to Nephi, Utah. I would be catching a flight into Salt Lake City and returning to the disciplined world of aerial firefighting. As the plane pushed back from the gate, I could not help but shut my eyes and reflect on the best summer vacation I ever had. All those folks at Disneyland just don’t know what they are missing.