

If the values taught at that staff ride represent the leadership methods used across the country, our national forests are in good hands. I’m glad I got past the dread to finally visit Storm King Mountain. I was encouraged to see the high priority the Forest Service now puts on inclusive teamwork. Good leaders, we were reminded, have the humility to stay curious and approachable, especially when members aren’t comfortable with a given assignment. This practice with key leadership roles created a new level of respect for the often life-saving responsibility of those who fill the positions. The basic question being What would you do if it were up to you? It required a focus on facts known at the time, available resources (if any), and knowledge of fire behavior and standard firefighting methods. When circumstances at the South Canyon Fire were discussed, participants were asked to role play a given position of the fire’s command team. Whether it’s the rookie with a day of fire experience or the ranter with a decade, every voice matters. He bantered with some, putting us at ease while waiting longer than 2 seconds for questions.Įach group member brings a different but valuable perspective was the theme of the day. He encouraged dialogue by removing his dark sunglasses to make eye contact when he spoke. He stood downhill from us with the sun glaring in his eyes instead of ours.

While loudly huffing with each step, I remembered I was at least 20 years older than the hotshots in my group, but this is where great leadership began to show itself. Instead of having to step aside to catch my breath, my group leader made timely periodic stops to review different aspects of the challenges firefighters faced on July 6 of ’94. I flew from sea level in the Willamette Valley in Oregon to a steep hike to 6,000 feet in elevation. As I suspected, this new information was harder to know than thinking it was purely an unstoppable act of nature and a result of years of drought. Throwing the book across the room more than once, I learned of the human error involved in the decision making (even before the hotshots arrived). In 1994, I did my best to move on from the tragedy, but it wasn’t until I was preparing for the staff ride that I ventured with grim determination to turn the pages on the story of a firefight gone wrong. Did I really want to know exactly what happened? I preferred to keep it a distant mystery. It was the book I rushed to buy when it was published in 1999, but then it sat on my shelf, unread, for over 20 years. Several FS cause and effect documents were required reading, as well as a well-researched account titled Fire on the Mountain, The True Story of the South Canyon Fire, by John N. It was an intimidating group, but an honor to be among them. When I arrived at the meeting place, over 70 firefighters (mostly hotshots) had joined six groups of mostly men, each led by someone with decades of wildfire experience and fire behavior training. When a friend and former hotshot from the Prineville crew told me about the staff ride, I was eager to attend. I’d always wanted to climb the last mountain my friends had climbed, but didn’t want to make the trek alone. Each year (except 2020) the Forest Service reserves a day for what’s known as a staff ride where firefighters study and remember lessons learned. Nine of the firefighters were Prineville Hotshots, friends and people I’d worked with on several wildfires. To hike the aptly named Storm King Mountain where 14 firefighters were killed in a firestorm on July 6, 1994. Two years ago this week, I took a trip to Colorado that I’d been dreading for 25 years…
