FIRE

CLOSE TO HOME. According to my mom, our Kenai Peninsula fire has made national news complete with stats about acreage, evacuations and spectacular pictures. And we have had lots of concerned calls, texts and emails asking if we are okay. The resounding answer is yes, and thanks for checking in. Indeed, the past week has been intense, but the path of the fire has been away from our new home in Kenai (Yes, we moved again! Closer to schools/work for next year and less of a commute....), and has spared our friends in Soldotna and beyond.

That said, the fire has hit "close to home" for sure. Some good family friends were evacuated from  Funny River Road about half a mile from the start of the fire and its namesake; our old house and community (see the small lakes in the picture below) were on evac warning for the past two days because of its proximity; and many other friends had to put summer plans and flights on hold and begin packing. Not to mention the 200,000 acres of Kenai National Wildlife Refuge land that countless animals call(ed) home. Fire crews are finding stranded wolf pups in dens, newborn moose calves without their mothers, and brown bear families wandering out of the forest. Oh what a single spark can do.

View from above a la amazing Landsat satellite imagery (http://landsat.visibleearth.nasa.gov/view.php?id=83732)

View from below a la Ice Cream Newton heading to our Soldotna house the day the fire began.

FIRE 101. J and I both always come at things from the science perspective. In this case, consider: Fire needs fuel and oxygen to burn, as well as a spark to start. Dry forests = fuel, windy weather = oxygen, and presumably someone's campfire = the spark. Also consider that a healthy forest ecosystem burns at regular intervals, often sparked by lightening, and the resulting burned forest material creates nutrient-rich soil and a fresh start for secondary succession... fire is a natural process that plays well with the evolution of life. In fact, about a million acres of Alaska wilderness burns in a normal summer. Enter humans. And decades if not centuries of fire prevention in "populated" areas. And so we have an incredible amount of fuel at the ready. Enter the spark. You see how it goes.

MEMORIAL DAY WEEKEND. Team Leslie finished up work and school last Friday (AK gets out early!), and had planned to kick off the summer with a three day weekend in the backcountry. We hoped to try our hand at canoe camping and portaging on one of the famed routes in the paddling world: The Swan Lake Canoe Route. Watching the plume of smoke build and billow, we questioned our departure, but in the end, hedonism won out.

We started at the East Entrance and looped around to the West via Gavia.

We left for the venture and took to the water on Friday evening, camping for the night with dark skies and an orange circular sun. Saturday morning yielded ash-fall on our tents and gear, darker skies, and smokey air. Saturday evening brought lower visibility, multiple helicopters flying over (keep in mind that we are in a total wilderness setting, miles from towns or airports...), and a building sense of concern. We found a shore with cell reception and our friend Jodi put in a call to her Dad, an ex-smoke jumper:

"Dad? Yeah, we did go on our trip. Yes, I know... with the kids.... So anyway, can you check the fire report? There have been a bunch of helicopters flying over - wondering if there's an evac for this area of the refuge or something."

Jodi's dad's advice?

"If you think the fire is coming your way, start a back burn. Light a forest fire yourselves, and when the burned area cools enough, head into it and stay there. When the big fire comes your way, there won't be any fuel left for it and it'll go around you."

Keep in mind that this fire-savvy man knew he had his daughter, son-in-law, and two small grand daughters in the mix (not to mention Team Leslie!), and recommended we start our own forest fire. I guess we've all heard that you need to fight fire with fire, but WOW.

 

Ominous.

Luckily, as predicted, the fire didn't jump to our neck of the woods and the conditions were only a product of the wind on the smoke, not on the fire. Flight plans for the peninsula had been re-routed and we were likely seeing alternate air traffic and new fire patrols. Fire crews from the Lower 48 and Canada are busting their butts to keep us humans and our structures safe. Local businesses throughout the peninsula have posted signs of thanks, and individuals are serving up salmon and hot coffee to fighters nearby. Red cross shelters have been surprised by how few folks have come their way - the Alaska spirit of self sufficiency and neighborly support, and/or stubbornness, runs strong.

In the end, we kept our matches in our pockets, and we were able to paddle 16 lakes, make as many portages, and catch a few fish for dinner. We cooked them in butter over a WhisperLite instead of a campfire, and the S'mores were on the chilly side, but we stayed safe - an Alaska Adventure from start to finish.

A borrowed boat, it turned out to weigh 75 pounds, not to mention the dry-pack... Go J!

Indigo the fisher-woman - all about wilderness survival.

Thankfully, we arrived home to some light drizzle and more rain in the forecast; with some luck, nature's fiery run at the peninsula will smolder to a halt. Again, thanks for thinking of us, and we'll keep you posted!