Apache Saddle

Apache Saddle
So I made it safely to beautiful Apache Saddle. My new station is actually quite nice, albeit out in the middle of nowhere. Minutes after I arrived my first day, I saw a mama deer and her baby grazing in the grass on our compound. I saw the famous California condor (an endangered species) just yesterday. We have pretty strict rules out here because of the bears. Trash needs to be in it’s receptacle or bin, and closed tight. Bears and raccoons scavenge through it anyway. On my way up the mountain my first day here, I saw bear crossing signs. Basically the same as immigrant crossing signs, with the mother leading the child across the street. Very cute.
Most of the people on my crew are quite enjoyable, and I’ve even begun to think of a few of them as my brothers. However, there’s at least one individual on my crew that’s all around unbearable. I’m not the only one who feels this way. But enough about that. Just thinking about it may cause me to go postal. We don’t want that.
The town(s) around here are cute. Yes, cute. And all the stores close before I can get to them. I have yet to have a day off, so I’ve been unable to do any sort of extended grocery shopping. I hauled butt into town yesterday, only to make it through 3 aisles before they started to turn the lights off (at 5 minutes to 7pm). So I quickly snatched items off the shelves, only to get home and realize I had incomplete pieces to at least 4 different meals. Thank god for pasta. The closest town to us is Pine Mountain Club (PMC). Kind of a clubhouse sort of town with a few places to eat, drink and buy food and the local paper. It can be expensive though. I hauled butt down the hill (again) today to go to McClish’s coffee house to get internet connection. They were closed. An hour early. Imagine my irritation. So I bought Bailey’s and chorizo at the market next door and headed back to the barracks. So this will actually be posted a bit later than it was written. But I have clever ideas that may get this across. Much like a message in a bottle, or messenger pigeons as I believe it was Drew who said it.
I have also decided to cave in to a wireless card for my computer (the kind that uses cell reception to get internet connection). It’s quite the exciting notion, except that I have to wait until Monday when I can head down to Santa Clarita on my day off. Everybody does most of their shopping in Santa Clarita or Bakersfield because the selection and prices are pretty sad out here.
We just came back from our “off forest” assignment. Sad as it was, it counted and we’re now back on the bottom of the list. We started out by Castaic Lake (around Santa Clarita) on a fire that was completely out. We spent a day there, then spent the night by the lake. There was a Cleveland strike team there, as well as a management team that had a few of my Cleveland people on it. So I actually got to see a bunch of my old co-workers. Small world. Then we got sent up to a fire at an Indian Reservation by Sequoia. It was mostly out as well, but it turned out there was plenty of work for us to do. Unfortunately though, the only place for us to sleep was on the concrete engine bay floor at the local fire station. I don’t use sleeping pads, so I just threw my sleeping bag down, curled up my sweatshirt for a pillow, and crashed. Two nights spent on a concrete floor was brutal. I can’t believe how well I slept last night in my own bed back at the barracks. It’s only 8:40pm right now, and I’m extremely exhausted.
Well, one day I shall access the internet, and this will be posted. At that time I’ll be able to check my email and reply back to everyone on facebook. Ok, actually I cheated. I was able to check my email while coming home yesterday, with my cell phone. Imagine that. Mostly junk. But it took a long time, and responding would probably be more of a pain than it’s worth. But in a few days I should have it figured out.
That’s about all for now. Carrie signing out--- from the saddle.

My New Home

So I've been doing online research on my new home, considering I have not had the opportunity to view it in person. I'm surprised to see that although my station (and thus barracks) has no physical address and the cell reception is "spotty", it is a fairly civilized area. I mean civilized in the populated sort of way, not necessarily the character of the town. That remains to be seen. Those of you who would like to Mapquest it or Google Earth it, it's called Frazier Park or Pine Mountain Club (Pine Mountain Club is a bit closer to my Station than Frazier Park). The zip code to PMC is 93222.

So here's what I found in the area:
Apartments/houses for rent!!!! (I'll be living in barracks for a few months)
A candy/ice cream shoppe
A car wash
2 thrift stores
Frazier Park Moose Lodge (apparently community events happen there)
Madd Bailey's Pub
A Mexican Food Joint
Several coffee houses
Several markets/general stores
A health food store
Plant Nurseries
At least one post office
Kern County Public Library
Dance Lessons
2 Dentists
An orthodontist (in case of emergency)
Several Yoga/Pilates/Gym places, including Curves (see, advanced civilization)
More than one gas station (at least one stoplight, and multiple horses)
A few places that would probably wax my eyebrows
2 motels (hint hint... plus lots of campgrounds)
A behavioral health center
Museum
No sushi places :-{
A search and rescue station
Many other exciting ammenities!!!

I've also discovered Netflicks, which I'll most likely start when I get there, and I'm considering a wireless access card for my laptop (to use with my spotty cell phone service). For entertainment, I have a bike (push bike), rollerblades (not sure if those are usable in this sort of country), tennis shoes, and a map. I figure I can also take the time to actually do my self-taught French lessons as well.

To keep up on the breaking news in my area, log on to
http://www.mountainenterprise.com
(you'll have to cut and paste into your browser due to my inability to make the darn link work)

Also, check out Los Padres National Forest ("The LP") whom I'll be working for:
http://www.fs.fed.us/r5/lospadres/
I'm on the Mt. Pinos District.

That's about all for now. I'm moving up there Aug. 16th and will begin work with my new crew on Aug. 17th. I'm only 3.5 hours from San Diego, people. I'm over an hour from the beach. And there's bears and elk up here.

The Cluster F*ck Complex

Coming home from the Cluster F*ck Complex, I stayed in the Holiday Inn Express across the highway from the tiny Arcata/Eureka Airport where I would be flying out from. Hotels are an amazing luxury after days or even weeks on fires, where fire camp is considered home.
Logistically, fire camp has everything a person needs to survive for weeks out in the middle of nowhere, battling a fire that creeps on for seemingly forever. Fire camp also has the benefit of being a very simple routine to follow: wake up, eat, go to briefing, stock the engine with foods and head to the fireline. After a day of hard work (or not), return to camp, eat, turn in timesheets, and go to sleep. Repeat for two weeks with an occasional shower added in just for spice.
At the Cluster F*ck Complex, otherwise known as the Siskiyou/Ukonom/Blue2 Complex, I decided to try out the Sleeper Unit for the first time. The Sleeper Unit is an air conditioned trailer with 40 bunks built into it, which are enclosed on all sides with the exception of a curtain on the exit side. A long narrow hallway allows access to the bunks that are stacked three on top of each other, lining both walls all the way to the end. The word bunk may be misleading. They are actually more like cubbies. Holes in the wall shaped like coffin cut-outs. With the exception of the constant hum of the air conditioner, the private reading lights in each bunk, and adjustable personal vents, the thing reminded me of the catacombs of Rome. After two restless nights, I adjusted to the situation and slept rather well and managed to stop hitting my head on the cubby above me. I believe constant fatigue contributed to that success. A tent may very well be a more comfortable option. However, I have found that these sorts of situations have taught me to adjust rather quickly to change. I believe I can handle anything. The dreaded splash-back from a freshly cleaned porta-potty illustrates my point exactly. I experienced that horrid event this morning and now am on the lookout for any changes in my personal health. Those of you who have been there know what I mean.
So staying at the Holiday Inn was luxurious. I had air conditioning, internet, a toilet that flushed and a bed twice my size. I even had a TV and a blow dryer!

Superman for sure

People often ask me how it is I do what I do. I'm sure they just assume I'm perfectly capable of carrying things the big guys carry with the grace and swiftness of a mountain goat. Plenty people have assured me that I'm in extraordinary shape. Either they don't grasp the true reality of what I do, or they look upon me as if I'm superman.

If they could see me staggering up the side of a steep mountain with 40 lbs of gear on my back, wearing long sleeves, long pants, tall leather boots, wool socks and a helmet in 90 degree weather with absolutely no breeze or shade to speak of, they might think differently. They might wonder what the hell I was thinking when I signed up. Believe me, I didn't realize it would be so difficult when I signed up. Nobody told me there would be times I would seriously consider throwing my body over the side of the mountain or otherwise maiming myself so that I wouldn't have to finish the hike or the dreaded "dead snake" drill.

I think it's less of "rolling with the punches" and more of learning to actually take the punches and be quiet about it. There's a certain fear that comes with the anticipation of a tough PT hike or training drill. I know I'm not the only one who feels it, as is evident by the unnatural silence that takes over the engine as we drive to our destination. I'm sure everyone (except those in the best of shape) is thinking, like I am, "I'm going to die" or "I'm going to vomit... like right now". Amazingly, the chatter picks back up again after the hike or training, regardless of the exhaustion of the crew. Pure relief I'm sure.

It's the ability to sit quietly while fear, anxiety and anticipation boil up in your stomach, wanting to explode or make you turn and run away. It's looking straight up the side of a mountain while your legs and lungs are being torn to pieces and knowing you're only a third of the way up... and still being able to make your feet continue on.

I don't know what it is about quitting, but I think it's much easier to do after having failed before. When you've managed to make it up the hill time and time again, it gets harder to quit. And even though that voice gets louder and louder and your feet get heavier and heavier... you keep moving. I really wish I knew why. I think I would stop.

Sleep

When I was younger, and up until college, sleep really wasn't all that important to me. I remember being up early and having to wait until 11am before I could even attempt to call my friends. Then came college. Everyone balked at my 8am classes and I couldn't understand why. A week into it, I understood. Somewhere within that first week of college, I got older. My metabolism slowed down. Maybe it was too many Big Macs, who knows. Or maybe it was that my metabolism sped up from the huge increase in caffeinated beverages.

But I never truly understood the value of sleep until I became a firefighter. I never knew what true exhaustion was until hauling hose up the side of the mountain and chasing a fire for over 30 hours, with little if any sleep, and limited food. I think that's when my own bed took on a lot more value. Just visualizing being at home in my own bed causes my heart to bleed. When I'm out on "the line", I can feel my body embraced by my bed and comforted by my blanket. I can feel the soft curve of the pillow under my head. It's painful, yes: very painful.

Today I walked into my room to change, and stared at my bed. Longing to just give up and snuggle under the covers and close my eyes and block out the rest of the world. I resisted though because it was only 5:30pm. It waits for me...

Back in the pool!

The incessant tug of the pool has become more than I can bear. So I jumped back in. After a completely restless night, I got out of bed at 0430 (that's 4:30am) and got ready for practice. Having not slept at all, I was still very much wide awake, as strange as it sounds. I came to realize it's not so much the swim practices I miss, it's the competitions on the weekends, and being able to say "I'm a swimmer". I miss being able to eat whenever and whatever, although I can't say that will return to me with all these pracices unfortunately.

So this morning during the first set, my arms hung off my body feeling as if they were attached by rusty hinges that ached and creaked. My biceps tightened up like lead weights and moved just as easily. It was all I could do to just keep afloat. My bedtime is in half an hour (8:30) so that I can get up that early again. Here we go.

Ever had one of those days?

I want to vomit:
not due to nausea
but rather a burning need
to express my distaste for, and purge,
all that I've absorbed today.
All this outside negativity
pollutes my soul
like the storm drain downstream
of the projects in central Detroit
in the middle of a downpour.