July 6: Three more fires reported.
Helitak was earning their pay this year. More than a dozen fires had been reported, few burned out. A normal year produced 20-30 fires, with only two or three burning more than an acre. Wildfires already ate up more land than you saw in an entire season, June through October. Kat had been bringing Ridley, on a daily basis, leaving her in the hangar with food and water, when she had to work. There was always someone on site who would care for the dog. In past years, the dog had accompanied them to the fires. She’d sleep during the day and keep watch over the crew at night. This year, Kat felt leery about bringing her, especially after the first incident landed them in the water.
July 9: The Mist fire started in the eastern section of the park in the Absaroka Mountains.
Monday morning, Kat and David met for breakfast before work. “Did you hear the news?” David asked Kat.
“Uh, more hot weather and fire?” She smiled.
“No, smarty pants. The Army is showing up today.” Kat’s face went white. “Stop it, Kat. Don’t get that glazed look in your eyes.”
“Sorry, I know it’s stupid.” She smiled at him again. “Have things heated up that much over the weekend?”
“More heat lightning over the weekend, more fires. The Forestry Service asked for volunteers from Ft. Riley, KS and Ft. Lewis, WA. I don’t know how many are arriving today, but it looks like I’ll be getting more help here and a few will be sent to Cooke.”
“Better get to work then. Guess I’ll be spending more time at base, organizing the new crews.”
Deck Coordinator, Larry Dixon, was looking awfully frazzled when they arrived that morning.
“Kat, thank God you’re here. I’ve got six aircraft coming in and we still don’t have the landing pads marked. I’ll send the crews in to you. Have them fill out my index cards for the board and give them a brief on what will be expected of them.”
“No problem, Larry. I’ll be in the briefing room.” Kat hurried off to find the cards and the maps they’d need.
The troops, from Ft. Riley, filed in over the next hour. She pointed out the coffee pot and waited for them to settle down. She casually scanned the pilots, wondering if she would recognize anyone. Probably not. Most of the guys from her platoon would be over 45 and retired by now.
“Gentlemen, take your seats. I am the Yellowstone Helitak Foreman, Katlin Downey. That is pronounced Cat-Leen. You have the regional map in front of you. Permanent Helispots are notated with a circle and H#, if you are lucky you’ll get to use them. New ones will be cut by hotshots and smoke jumpers as they are needed. These will posted on the main map and you will have to note the location on your own map, yourself.
You have an index card in front of you. I’ll need some basic info, so we can match your ability to your mission, until you get some experience under your belt.” Kat turned to the white board behind her and wrote as she spoke. “Top line, write the aircraft model and tail number. Second line, the PIC, as such, CW2 Ogre, T. The next line…”
She heard snickers and what sounded line a kick in the shin. Eyebrow raised, she turned around. “Can I help you with something?” She addressed the group.
One Warrant Officer raised his hand. “You got that wrong, Ma’am.”
“Excuse me?”
“That would be CW4 Ogre, T.” He answered.
“She knocked you back a couple, didn’t she?” The pilot next to him laughed.
“Tommy?!” Kat squealed and ran around the table, to be swooped up in the pilot’s arms. “Oh, my God. How are you doing? Hair looks good on you.” She said, ruffing the flat-top.
YOU ARE READING
Helitak Daze
Romance6/28/2012 Just a quick note, I called the real "Michael" and he is currently flying his helicopter, fighting the Colorado fires. Katlin is living her dream as a Helitak Foreman, in Yellowstone National Park, but for one thing. For two decades, she's...
