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A collection of photos illustrating life on North Dakota farms in the early 1900's. Strong men and women, dogs, horses, and oxen doing all the work. Sons and daughters of Norway and Germany.

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Tuesday, October 28, 2003

 

Fire Fighting


I was a vollie for five years. Took eleven state courses and several private ones. Did interior attack, and rose to captain in the fire company. Learned to drive truck, and pump water, and do both pretty well.

Fire gear, with the mask and tank, add fifty pounds to your weight. The gear itself adds about 25. So, imagine yourself walking around all day with a small child on your back. The gear is hot. It keeps heat out, but also keeps yours in. I got two cases of heat exhaustion while I was a fire fighter. In the worst case, I drank nearly a gallon of Gatorade before I even approached being rehydrated.

Or, you're cold, really, really cold. Once you get cold and / or wet in fire gear, you stay that way. Boots full of icy water from a creek. Snow down the back of your neck. You're nearly always too hot or too cold.

The gear is awkward, the boots clumsy. You move in a restricted form of slower motion that takes lots more energy to perform the simplest task, walking or raking, or whatever.

You work up a gigantic appetite. Because you�re burning calories just standing up.

Wildland firefighting is tough. Walk forever. Dig or rake, or use an �Indian tank�. Fight the pressure on a hose for hours.

Those guys in California are working as hard as they ever have. And I feel every ache, bump, bruise, burn, and pain. God bless them all and keep them safe!


-- posted by Chuck at Tuesday, October 28, 2003 | E-mail | Permalink | Main | 0 comments