The Rattlesnake Staff Ride

I'm up at my Advanced Firefighter Academy in Sacramento, CA. Yesterday we had what is called a Staff Ride. Staff Rides are trips to wildland firefighter fatality sites where we learn about what happened, what went wrong, and get to see it for ourselves. This was the Rattlesnake Fire on the Mendocino National Forest. On July 9th, 1953, 15 firefighters died on this fire. Here's a link to more information about the Rattlesnake Staff Ride: http://www.fireleadership.gov/toolbox/staffride/library_staff_ride2.html

Here's a link to Staff Rides in general:

http://www.fireleadership.gov/toolbox/staffride/index.html

So we got up at some crazy hour of the morning, before the sun even came out. We all piled into 4 or 5 soccer mom vans and headed out to the Mendocino.

They have stops along the area of the fire where we have group discussions led by moderators who have studied the fire extensively. We talk about what we would do in the situation, see where the fire started, learn about tactics used, etc.

This is a memorial to those that died. 15 men in all from a missionary crew and the Forest Service.

It's pretty hard to see in this picture, but there are 14 small crosses and one large cross up on this hill. The large cross marks Missionary Rock and is dedicated to all the men that died there. The 14 crosses were placed where each of the bodies were found. Some were identified, others were not. There are no names on the crosses. Every year, this area is maintained by the Forest Service.

Also hard to see in this picture to the left, is the last cross (so 15 small crosses total). This man made it surprisingly far. Due to a sudden wind shift, just as the guys were sitting down to eat lunches that were brought to them (after 10pm) the fire activity picked up and they had to run for their lives. The brush was incredibly thick and tall. This picture was taken from Missionary Rock, looking down at the last cross. It's quite a ways. You can see the cross the the end of the little trail (which was not there when the fire occured) right in front of the large bush in the middle of the canyon.

One of the first to fall:

The group that stuck together.

This is the cross of the last man to die. Like I said, he made it extremely far. The fire died down just shortly after it overcame him. He almost made it.

Paying respects at Missionary Rock.

After a steep climb back up:

Myself and my friend/crewmate/partner in crime, Corey:

My hair emergency

To being with, I've had hair emergencies before. Mostly self-imposed. My first hair emergency was when I was in kindergarten and I got ahold of a pair of scissors the day before picture day. Thankfully I do not have that picture to share. My next great hair emergency was when I was 16 and the going thing was to hang your head upside down and cut your hair, so to easily layer it. It would've worked out fine had I not taken such a drastic amount off. The top layer was above by shoulders and the rest down to the bottom of my shoulder blades. I called a friend up, crying, and she came over and exclaimed "Oh my god, what do you want me to do?!" With tears in my eyes, I responded "Just cut it all off". So my long gorgeous hair turned into a short shoulder-length cut within minutes. Recently all my hair emergencies have been much less drastic (still almost all of them caused by me).

Until now. Most of you are aware of the dilemma that I faced, having moved far away from my hair stylist in San Diego. Had I really thought this through, I would've just stuck with her. I mean, I drive down there to get my braces adjusted... I could've just tacked on an extra appointment to one of those days and gotten my hair done. Well, it's "just hair" right? Yeah, so how did Sampson lose all his power when Delilah cut off his hair?

Since I start the academy in a week, but didn't feel like making the drive all the way down to San Diego, I decided it was time to be brave, and not so materialistic about my hair. After all, it's just hair...yeah. My ends were fried and I just needed a trim. I didn't need a new haircut, just a trim. Like 1/2 to 1 inch off the ends. Nothing new. Just a trim. So when the lady asked me how much I wanted off, I said an inch. One inch. Like nothing longer than your index finger sort of inch. Preferrably nothing longer than your thumb. I didn't add what I was thinking: that the shortest layer should not be any shorter than shoulder length, because that would mean cutting off 4 inches of my hair, and who would mistake 4 inches for an inch?

Behold, I have the new-milenium version of the mullet.

The shortest layer is above my ear. Meaning that at some point, she cut more than 4 inches off. Not even "oops, that may have been 2 inches". No, more like 4.

I should've known something was up when she gave me a funny look after I said "I really don't like the layered look, I just want my hair to hang down right". I nearly cried when she said with glee "Oooh, look, it's all fluffy!". OMG. That's right Debbie, I said it. O. M. G.

I know you're all wondering if I told her I didn't like it. Well at the hair place, it still looked relatively decent and I didn't take time to really scrutinize it. But by the time I got home, I kept wondering my my hair felt like it kept getting in my face. So I thought maybe it was how she styled it. I attempted to wash the style right out of it this morning, and this is how it turned out. Not good.

I can't tell you how much I want to cut it all off. But I wont. I'm going to man up and handle it. My hair stylist (the real one... in San Diego) told me hair grows on average 1/2 inch per month. So if I let it grow out a few months, then have the bottom layer trimmed (by my real stylist... in San Diego), then eventually my hair will be much more practically layered. Some of you may wonder what the back looks like. I don't. I refuse to look at it. I refuse to know. Thank god for pony-tails, hats, tissue, and friends who tell you it really isn't all that bad (and that after all, it's just hair).

I just want to cry.