We Had *The Talk*

Monday July 24 2017

The Fire Talk. Comes with summer and thunderstorms and from a spring and summer that produced highly flammable and prevalent cheat grass and weeds after an unprecedented winter of moisture.

The Fire Talk came up a couple of weeks ago as we helplessly watched our B.C. Canadian friends evacuated, barred from going in or out, or trapped on their place surrounded by fires (so far, they are OK, and back home, but the fires are still on-going.)

What would we do here?

We're 5 miles down a dirt road - surrounded by cheat grass-laden BLM land. Between 4 residences, we have 20+ 4 legged equids (and a passel of goats and dogs and such). (And, if you count the next neighbors, add 15 or so more horses, though they have some big dry lots.) The main way out is this bumpy 1-lane dirt road. An alternate way out is a much longer bumpier 1-lane dirt road that leads up to the Owyhee Mountains, and eventually off in different directions.

We have a big water tank on a trailer… but what comes out of that is not much more than a regular hose's worth of pressure. We've mowed weeds, but they're still growing and they leave dried stumps behind. We have plenty of green grass and trees around the house, and some dry paddocks. Plenty of water spigots around if the electricity is on. A small generator or 2. But what is all of this if a fire is roaring, and a 40 mph wind is blowing, and the fire creates its own weather and wind?

We have several horse trailers, either 2 or 4 horse trailers… but 1 trip with each would not accommodate all the horses.

It depends on where the fire comes from and how close it is. 

And when. Daytime? Middle of the night? More than once, I've been startled awake by a thick, acrid smell of smoke. I've jumped out of bed and run outside looking, hiking, climbing hills… trying to see from whence a fire might be coming (it's always been from fires some 40 and more miles away, but you wouldn't know it by the heavy smoke smell).

And it depends on where the fire comes from, and how close it is - that will determine what we do. If we have time to haul horses - great. If we don't, then what. Do we just have to jump in our cars and flee to save ourselves? I've got a bag packed by the door. I hope I never have to grab it, but I know where my keys are hanging. Do we have time to round the horses up and chase them out? Where? Up our canyon? Out the back gate east? Down the main dirt road northeast? Up the dirt road west? The barbed wire gates are open and ready if we need to chase horses up or down the road.

We have the memory of the Soda Fire from 2 years ago - 300,000 acres that came within 15 miles - still burning in our minds. Now we have thunderstorms in the forecast this week, and a Fire Weather Watch today from noon to midnight. 

Another reason I hate summer: I HATE FIRE SEASON.

We can just wait and watch and hope and pray it's not the year for this area to burn.

Ode to Owyhee Dust

Friday August 16 2013

Oh, Owyhee dust! Every footfall - horse, human, bird, ant - erupts in an explosion of fine silt. A herd of horses walking down the canyon kicks up a monstrous cloud that floats upward in the still air, hanging unwanted, tinting the skies and shading the sun.

Oh, Owyhee dust!

Yuck!

Fire on the Mountain

Monday July 29 2013

There are soooo many reasons I do not like summer, but if I list them all this will be a Whine-Fest blog entry. So I will only list one.

WILDFIRE.

I've been here in Owyhee for 6 years now, and up until the last 2 years, fire never crossed my mind.

Then there was that summer day 2 years ago where lightning started a fire 4.5 miles away up on the sagebrush flats, while we were away at City of Rocks. Fortunately the gusting wind was blowing the other way, and the BLM fire crews were on it in a flash.

Last year, there was the night heavy smoke woke me up.

Now, anytime a blue thunderstorm cloud appears, instead of rejoicing (well - as long as I'm indoors watching, and not caught out in it!) in the few degrees of coolness it lends for a spell, an undercurrent of fear keeps that delight at bay. Wildfires are getting worse by the year out West, as it gets drier and drier.

Yesterday a cloud came over, giving blessed relief from the heat. But then the cloud turned blue and thunderstormy, rumbling loudly enough that even *I* heard the thunder. It dropped a little rain down here, and did its lightning and thundering in the Owyhee mountains.

I did not even SEE this smoke until this afternoon, but it was surely lightning that started it. It's 7 miles away, straight up our canyon. The BLM already knew about it, and was letting it burn… then later in the day they sent helicopters with buckets to it.

The only good thing about being in a drought is that it's been so dry, there's hardly any fuel to burn - stunted sagebrush and rabbitbrush, no cheat grass at all.

By evening it looked like most of the fire was out, though it's so hazy it's difficult to tell, even with binoculars. There's still a spiral of smoke (still, fortunately, no wind to speak of), and I might be seeing a layer of fire retardant on the hill.

I'm sure hoping that's the closest and biggest fire we'll have here this year.

HEAT

Friday June 28 2013

The picture of that burning yellow globe in a flaming orange sky in the weather forecast, accompanied by the words "Heat Advisory in effect blah blah" brings some of us to our knees whimpering piteously.


Others beat the heat by playing in the water - like Jose.

I can't do anything with a water hose out by the paddock without Jose coming up for a hose-off. If he has access to a sprinkler, he'll stand over it and spin himself around that to cover all sides, but best is when I hold the water hose and he gets wet just exactly how and where he likes it.

Here he is last year at City of Rocks, doing his thing in the heat.

Just Say No to Summer

Saturday August 11 2012

Summer: For some, fun in the sun, barefoot in dirt, splashing in water, bright rays shooting down, tanning bodies, lightening hair.

I'm wired backwards. I can't stand being hot. I hate that sun beating down on me.

My only relief comes with the very rare - especially in this desert, particularly with this drought - cloudy day. I love the leaden clouds blotting out the sky. Spitting rain sends me into a tizzy, my head turned up to the heavens. Even without the rain, my spirits perk up because the clouds bring a break in the heat that I so desperately detest.

But this summer, I pay the price with the clouds. The clouds bring thunderstorms. The thunderstorms bring lightning. Lightning brings fire.

I got my clouds yesterday, but the thunderstorms came too. When the thunderheads moved on, a different cloud remained, leaving the sky dark and turning the sun blood red: smoke. 

A friend in Murphy emailed "Where is the fire? The channel 7 news at 5 said 300 acres south of Oreana, but the smoke makes me think it is bigger than that.  Lots of planes heading down that way.  Are you guys ok?  Can you see the fire?"

11 miles from here as the Raven flies, lightning struck the top of Toy Mountain in the Owyhees. Thank goodness the fire guys were on it quickly. Thank goodness there was no wind yesterday. Planes flew overhead all afternoon, back and forth between Boise and the mountain.

We saw the mountain still smoking while out riding this morning: the 'Pony Fire'. 500 acres, but it's 80% contained. Fire on the mountain and a forecast of smoke tomorrow. The skies remain hazy, smoky; the sunset colorful. But the cooling clouds are gone. It's hot again. 

I don't dare hope for any more clouds to cool me off. I just dream of winter, and wait.

Ode to Winter

Sunday July 22 2012

As I melt and disintegrate in my puddle of sweat, 

I dream of winter, where

brains don't fry

motivation doesn't wither

ambition doesn't shrivel

ice cubes in your iced tea last longer

there are no bugs bugging horses

there are no bugs that, no matter how tight you keep your doors shut, swarm your lights at night and discourage you from reading, and leave a coating of bugs on your desk (table, sink, bed) in the morning like a dusting of black powdered sugar

rattlesnakes are huddled in dens dreaming of summer, instead of laying beside trails rattling and hissing at your horse

Lightning storms don't strike fear in hearts and fire danger doesn't exist

It's too damn hot to do anything but close my eyes, and dream of winter. Please, Winter, come early!

Hot Day Cool Horse

Saturday September 18 2010

Were you one of those kids who played outside in the sprinkler on a hot summer day?

Jose is.

















Sometimes once isn't enough.

Hot Horse

Tuesday May 19 2009

How do you stay cool on the first 95* day of almost-summer? How do you keep the biting bugs off on the buggiest day of almost-summer?

If you are one of The Others, you stand motionless with the least surface area facing the sun that's beating down, and you try to use somebody else's tail to fend off the bugs.

If you're Jose, obviously you walk up to where the sprinklers are going, and you hose yourself down. You pivot in circles so you get all sides covered,















you spray your chest really well where the bugs bite the worst,


you spray your head,



you get your butt,



you spray under your head,




you spray your cheeks,



you get one last sprinkle from the top.







Then you go have a good roll in the dust, so you have a nice coating of dirt and mud that keeps the intense heat and the bugs off.















What kid doesn't like playing in the water sprinklers and the dirt and mud?