The First Week - Day 1: Tinfoil Tents and Wall of Voodoo

The First Week - Day One: Tinfoil Tents and Wall of Voodoo

6/7/11:
My first day of work saw me facedown on the lawn in front of the Williams Ranger District. I was wrapped up in what could easily be mistaken for a tiny tinfoil tent. Above me, a burly Chuck Norris-type simulated a wildfire by vigorously shaking said shiny tent. Yes, this was the yearly fire refresher, and yes, after four hours of reviewing basic wildfire safety (all of which was new to my ignorant Iowa-self), we were now deploying our very own practice fire shelters.

Some background: fire shelters (affectionately called “shake and bake”) are the last line of defense for firefighters: incredibly durable and heat-resistant, every firefighter carries a fire shelter with them at all times--these little tinfoil-esque tents are the last resort when out-running the fire is out of the question.

Now imagine it: you’re surrounded by a wildfire, cowering in a shiny little tent, breathing in the dirt, listening to the roar of live fire and waiting. Third-degree burns are probable, death is definitely still a possibility.

After struggling like a fool to get my fire shelter out of its package (it’s got two Velcro rip tags and handles for easy set-up, which still managed to befuddle me), I collapsed under it in surprisingly less than 45 seconds. My claustrophobia coupled with the sudden intense sound of my own breathing didn’t settle my imagination one bit. And that was before one of our firefighter instructors (i.e., Chuck Norris) “simulated” the wildfire on my wee little fire shelter.

Emerging after the all-clear had been given a few minutes later, I thought anyone who would voluntarily do a job that might possibly require the use of said fire shelter was maybe a little bit nuts.*

And then the really hard part came: refolding the practice fire shelter. The actual fire shelters are used once and only once for fairly obvious reasons, but in the spirit of reduce, reuse, recycle, our practice shelters will see many a deployment. Yelena and I teamed up to fold (i.e., cram) mine back into its casing and then feigned (I am not proud) girlish uselessness while Chuck Norris folded our other fire shelter.

Having thus distinguished ourselves in the field of fire shelter deployment, our little band of archies ventured forth with our boss, Grinnellian Neil Weintraub, into the depths of the KNF.

But first, I cannot possibly say enough positive things about Neil as both a person and a boss. Incredibly knowledgeable about archaeology and the KNF, Neil is a good teacher who also isn’t afraid to let you figure things out for yourself. Besides trusting his two interns to traverse the KNF solo (we met our goal and did not start any wildfires!), Neil always welcomed us to his house, let us know about local races (his passion is NATRA, Northern Arizona Trail Runners Association, which he founded and runs), and encouraged us to explore Arizona.

So of course, I was initially quite afraid of him. Although, confession, I’m generally fearful of most new people, especially when I am in a subordinate position. I’m not sure who of our group of six (Neil, Noah, Yelena, Travis, Joel and myself) was feeling similarly uneasy, but regardless, we all found ourselves crammed into a single government rig. Yup, a big green truck with comfortable seating for four was now snugly holding six of us. I remember acutely my ‘play-it-cool’ attempt as I found myself straddling the front console and squished between scary-new-boss-Neil and equally unknown grad-student Travis. Neil was taking us to see our first archaeological site, the whimsically named Wall of Voodoo (think “Mexican Radio”).
 

So began my first (bumpy) foray into the KNF. Wall of Voodoo, situated on a hill, is made up of a number of long room blocks, identifiable by the manner in which the rocks, once walls, have fallen in. Here Neil showed me my first sherds (nope, they’re not all saying “shards” funny, it’s actually an arch term) and talked about the different prehistoric peoples of the area.

After Wall of Voodoo, I returned to North House (what was once the district office and now my abode for the summer) and started to become alright with the idea that I might not really know what I was doing. The KNF, with its blackjack and yellowbelly ponderosa pines, was already beginning to woo me, and doing a pretty damn good job of it.

*A few months later, I find that I may be one of those people willing to carry a fire shelter. With a looming gap year, getting red-carded in March (if the Iowa DNR is with me) and finding myself a crew in Oregon seems pretty perfect. Manual labor, as always a favorite, an insanely awesome amount of work in national forests, and of course a fat paycheck, has greatly helped assuage my fire shelter fears.


Photos: 1. Ponderosa Pine 2. North House