Tilting at Windmills

I just got back from another smaller fire roll. 9 days out this time, so I have been calling pretty much everyone I know to say hello. Today, we were cutting snags out of a particularly nasty patch along a road. My saw partner Mik was cutting a snag and one of the other guys was on his way up to be a lookout for us, when all of a sudden CRASH! Here comes Mik's snag down on the top of Bob's truck. Bob was alright, but I don't think the truck will ever be quite the same. So, I got to spend 6+ hours today dealing with Uncle Sam's beaurocratic paperwork "I crushed a rig with a snag" bullshit. It was in no way my fault, so I was cleared of any allegations, but Mik is in some pretty serious shit over the whole mess. It was a typical government sccident scene with 800 safety officers, all the overhead, and a bunch of slack-jawed gawkers. So I did what any regular hard-working American would have done and came straight home and drank away the worries. What do I care, right? They gave us tomorrow off so we could rest and forget our worries! I don't care how many rigs we smash with snags...I fucking love this job.

My lord, people! Thanks for all the support on my last post about me being bored with my job, wanting a change of pace, etc. etc.

I just got back from a 2-week fire assignment. If you have ever wanted a fast-paced job that keeps you on your toes, consider firefighting. I have never worked so hard or been so exhausted in my life, but I wouldn't have give up this feeling for the world. I have spoken with several of you on the phone, and so far everyone has mentioned the feeling of energy in my voice that just wasn't there before. Make no mistake, I love my job. During my 14 days, I worked a total of 209.5 hours (30 of those hours were on the last day we were out), worked on 6 separate fires, and helped contain nearly 6000 acres of wildfire. Needless to say, I'm very proud of the work I do. Anyhows, I think it's back to bed for me. Sleep is very much needed. Love to all.

I've hit that point in my work where it doesn't matter how cool or fun or exciting your job is, you just don't really want to go anymore. I can't understand how someone could ever have a career. I thought having an exciting, mile-a-minute job would keep away the duldrums, but instead it has just left me physically and mentally exhausted. Maybe as more time goes by, I will start to build up a tolerance for such hard work?

There are lots of fireworks going off in our neighborhood here, and I need to get up for work in less than 7 hours. Fuck. I had one day off, and now I am back on for another full week. Oh, well. I am getting paid a lot to do this.

So, last week I finished my (seriously intense) wildland fire training. I am now qualified to do the following:

Drive a fire engine
Lay fire hose
Dig a fireline (I dug 264 feet on Friday)
Operate a drip torch
Accurately forecast fire weather
Analyze fire behavior
Administer first aid, including snakebite and second-degree burn aid

Pretty sweet stuff. Anyhow...I'm still alive and well, except now I have to pump my own gas. Oh well, right? All part of the growing up experience. Love to all, hope everyone is well.

I leave for Montana in three days. I'll be there for three months. I got a call from my boss today who said I need to check in as soon as I get there so that they can issue me my PPE (personal protective equipment including: gloves, hardhat, goggles, nomex clothing), my tools (chainsaw, files, gas cans) equipment (wildland pack, turnout gear, webbing) a personal tent and sleeping bag. He told me to have as much stuff ready to go as I can, because as soon as I get there, my crew is pulling out for a week of Guard School in the Gallatin Nat'l Forest, then onto active duty.

Because I will be in the woods so much (They issue me my own tent, for God's sake!) I will not be taking certain "luxury" items. This would entail me leaving my computer behind, so I will be inaccessible by e-mail, livejournal, myspace, facebook, or AOL. I will have my cell phone, but it will only be on an average of 5 days a month. This means that unless you are feeling extremely lucky, I will be the one making all the calls. Please don't take it personally if you don't hear from me until September. Obviously, keeping my family abreast of my activities and well-being is my first communication priority.

Other than that, I wish everone a safe and wonderful summer vacation! Only you can prevent forest fires, blah blah blah!

-Mitch-

Today, I was going over some more firefighting paperwork (I'm basically buried under a mound of it at the moment) and one of the things they want me to do is a Designation of Beneficiary. This is so the know who to send the money to in case I die in Montana. I'm not scared to be a firefighter at all, and I'm certainly not afraid of dying, but it all sort of made it hit home that this is an inherently dangerous job. The crazy thing is...I think it makes me love it that much more.

I got called back today about wildland firefighting in Livingston, Montana. It's going to be very rough work, but it will also be very rewarding to me. I leave straight from Monmouth on the 17th, so I won't be coming back to Bend at all this summer. Wish me well, everybody!

Last night, I had the most spectacular dream I can remember ever having. Usually, I don't remember my dreams, so it is already fairly notable that I recall this one so vivdly.

I was apparently dead (that's the assumption, at least) and everyone that I had ever known in my life was gathered in a huge gymnasium, sitting on the floor. So, I was walking around amongst the people, reminiscing and chatting with them. The crazy thing is, they were all really people from my life, and the things we talked about were things that had really happened. But the coolest part was the fact that if there was someone who had a negative impact on my life, I beat the shit out of them and there was nothing they could do about it. For most people, I just chatted a while and moved on, but there were a few people I took FULL advantage of the shit-kicking. It was pretty damn sweet.

Yesterday I had several friends from here at school that I'd called to talk to about maybe having a new job. I'd initiated each one of the calls, and they all answered and started talking about their own problems without even bothering to ask me how I was doing. Then, each one of them said they had to go because they were too busy to talk. Of course, what them meant wsas that they were not too busy to talk about their own problems, but certainly too busy to ask why I'd called them. Aw nuts.

Anyway. No matter because today was much better anyway.

Have you ever had something really cool to tell someone? But when you try to talk to them, all they want to do is dump their problems on you and leave?

Today is one of those days.

So today I started training to become a wildland firefighter. I decided I should start doing some regular excercise to get in shape for the season. I knew that the Forest Service requires you to do a pack test, so that's where I began today. I loaded my free-weights into my backpack, put on my BDUs and my boots, and went a-running from my apartment to Cory's apartment in nearby Independence. It was a pretty arduous hike/job, but I managed to make it 2.88 miles in 32 mninutes. The Forest Service considers 3 miles with 45 pounds in 45 minutes arduous, so I am WELL within the time parameters. I'm just going to go out and hone things a little so I can get a little faster, hopefully under 30 minutes. But, for now I must tend to my ankle blisters and thigh aches.

Wednesday is the day of the week I look forward to most. It means that the week is half over, and Cory and Josh and I will go shooting. We load up our little car and head out to Josh's house in the country, shoot a few hundred shells, usually have dinner, and come back home.

Today was no exception. We made the usual drive from Monmouth to Salem to Keizer to Hopmere, stopped and bought shotgun shells from Amanda, the nice cashier at the Keizer Bi-Mart. We shot well today, hit all the pigeons and still had a few shells left over, so I shot a gatorade bottle Cory threw into the sky. Very satisfying. Then, we hung around until dinner, and Josh's mom cooked us 3 delicious chickens, of which the whole group of us could only eat about half. then the family retired and Josh Cory, Emily and I all played with a Magna-Doodle and watched Dateline until the wee hours. then, on the way home, I used Josh's CB radio to talk to some guys from Salem. It was pretty impressive use of a CB, in my opinion. And now, I am home once more.

I have an appointment with the Institution Review Board tomorrow at 7:15 am. Hopefully, they will allow me to have some human subjects. Boo-yeah.

Edit: After talking with my roommates, it has come to my attention that the drunk girl from my previous post was, in fact, not drunk. Now go back and read the entry imagining that she was sober. Fucking scary.

I had a very drunk girl in my room tonight. She knocked on the apartment door at about midnight, and I let her in without looking through the peephole (big mistake). She was looking for Chris, but he didn't appear to be home, so she roused Matt and talked to him for a while. Then, she came and knocked on my door, which I hadn't intended on opening, but it apparently had not latched all the way upon my closing it, so it swung open when she knocked, and she let herself into my room. She was really loud, and annoying, so I tried to keep conversation as quiet and tame as possible until I could devise a way to get her shuffled off somehow. She commandeered my bed and got her cheap whore perfume all over my blankets, which I am most upset about. Then, she kept wanting hugs and telling me I looked like Tom Cruise. I couldn't just tell her that I was going to bed because I'm afraid she would have wanted to stay the night. Yeesh! Finally, my break came when Chris came out of his room to go to the bathroom and I sicced her on him. Poor bastard never even saw it coming. the moment she left to go bother him, I closed my door (making damn sure it latched), and turned off all my lights so she would think I was asleep or gone. So far so good.

Tonight, I decided to switch my spider solitaire difficulty from easy to medium. This change came after I played an entire game and don't think I made a single move without pressing the "show move" button. So now, at least I have to decide whether or not I want to bury that black eight under a mountain of red cards or not. Spider solitaire, I'm sure you are somehow a metaphor for life.

I cleaned my computer keyboard today. It was getting pret-ty grimy. I took each key off individually and scrubbed all the sides. Then I tipped it over and shook it vigorously, like a nanny shaking a crying child. You'd be amazed at the shit that amasses in between these little keys! I won't go into detail, since much of it is pretty nasty. But, on the bright side, it is way nicer to type on now! Yaaaaay.

Every night, sometime shortly after 11:00 pm, my roommate yawns very loudly and almost comically. I say "almost" because it would seem funny to me if I didn't hate him. Does anyone else have trouble not sounding like a douchebag when they yawn?