Friday, November 20, 2009

Firefighters!

Since my beloved internet is struggling a bit, I will take a while to add the last few days of my life to the blogosphere.
As mentioned in the previous episode, this week was much-anticipated chainsaw training. A bunch of lumberjacky guys with crazy stories came in and showed how to clean, sharpen, dismantle, assemble, troubleshoot, start, manage, balance, and handle chainsaws.
If you really think about it, chainsaws are a pretty crazy invention. Someone looked at an old circular saw and went “how can I carry that around and make it long and pointy?” and thought of running a chain with teeth around a bar of metal. That, if you ask me, is one of the pinnacles of genius. Not exactly a simple concept.
Digressions aside, we spent two days in a classroom learning about the parts of the saw, maintenance bits, safety, and how to make a tree fall down. Then we got to head up to El Dorado national forest and wave them around. Much to my disappointment, we didn’t go back today, so I didn’t get to actually fell a tree, but I got at least two hours in on the saw hacking through low lying brush and bushes. I’m not even close to a pro, but at least I can wade through brush without my back seizing up. It’s going to be a pretty awesome time if we start using saws on a regular basis.
Another really cool thing about running saw is the specific roles and positions. Usually saw teams work at the front of firefighters who are cutting a fire line, a strip of bare ground designed to deny wildfires more fuel and contain them. The sawyer (guy with saw) is partnered with a swamper, who grabs everything that he cuts and throws it away from the fireline and the fire. The cool part is that the swamper is usually right behind the sawyer (think inside personal bubble). They have to be really attuned to how each other functions to do things as fast as possible without mangling anything important.
When we use the saws, we get protective gear called chaps. Chaps are essentially nylon covers that buckle around each leg. Unbuckled, they are very cowboy-esque. The protective part of the chaps are Kevlar fibers that line the inside of the nylon. If a saw blade cuts into the chaps, the Kevlar tangles the crap out of the chain and the inner parts. Granted, if you’re going full power and cut into some chaps, you will probably lose a leg. But if a saw is idling, it usually prevents major injuries.
A “chap cut” is when someone loses focus for a second and lets the saw blade hit their chaps. Usually they stopped pulling the saw trigger a few seconds ago and consider the saw “safe,” but the inertia on the saw blade keeps the teeth turning. We had a guy get a chap cut, and the blade, without the chaps, would most likely have nicked a piece of his femur off. As it was, he was fine, but a little embarrassed. There are so many elements to firefighting culture that are ridiculously badass. Chap cuts are really really embarrassing (they don’t even like to talk about their own). When they are clearing really heavy brush, they roll up their sleeves and see who can get the most cut-up arms. When working a fire, people have gone for over 35 hours working the line. It’s insane.
One more blog tomorrow, then I’m off to Catalina (one day early). Most likely will not be able to blog until December 17th. But, you never know. I’ll keep some kind of a journal type thing that I can transcribe when I get back.

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