Fire on the River

Looking back to the fire (click image for detail)

There are a lot of reason why you want to hire a veteran guide service but personal safety is perhaps not one of the things you would put right at the top of the list. It’s just not one of those things you think about that much but the night of July 18th my crew demonstrated graphically how important it can be.

We were on an extended multi day trip on Oregon’s fabled Deschutes River. The trouble started about 11:30 at night. We’d had a good day of fishing and had come into camp and had a nice meal. We were about ready to settle into bed. I was spreading my sleeping bag on my cot and thinking how nice it was going to feel to crawl inside when one of our clients called to me.

“Hey, John come here and look at this. Tell me what you think.”

I looked over where he was pointing; there was a glow in the sky. I walked to the edge of the small grove of trees where we were camped for a better look. My heart stopped.

There was a line of fire all the way from the river well up into the hills behind us. It was marching steadily towards us. When the gusty winds puffed up the fire would flair up and leap forward.

I’ll admit for a moment I had a little panic attack. I know how dangerous fire can be in a dry desert canyon. At first you don’t think there is much to burn just grass, sage brush and a few scrub trees. But it dry grass and dry sage, all in a very dry land. When it burns, it burns hot and fast. It may not cause much long term damage, but it moves with the speed of lightning. It can over take you in a heart beat. There’s only one option – get out of the way and get out fast.

I rousted the other guides, some of whom where already in bed; we held a quick conference and formed a plan. One man went down to wake up the other campers who were using sites just below us, the rest of us organized the clients to tear down camp and get it packed into the raft. We decided we would try to get as much as we could loaded up before the fire over took us.

It was a record tear down – each guide directed a part of the operation while one man tended to the loading of the raft. We got it done; tents, cots, kitchen and all loaded and ready to go, in under thirty minutes.

It was an eerie feeling pushing off into the night onto that darkened river with the fire right on our heels.

We sent one boat on ahead – he was going to try to get to a phone at the Dant fishing club (if they had one) or possibly see if he could find someone to drive him another five or six miles down to the Deschutes Club caretakers cabin where they have both a phone and a fire truck. The rest of us went down just a short way and stopped long enough to help the other campers load up their possessions and to make sure that there was no one left in harms way.

The second time we launched off down river we were leading a small parade of rafts and drift boats. I could see them all silhouetted against the light of the fire.

That’s when I shot the few pictures I have of the blaze. You’ll forgive the fuzziness and lack of focus – under the circumstances I was lucky to get anything at all. For reference our original camp was located in the far side of the grove of trees seen in these pictures; right next to the fire.

From the safety of the river we dallied briefly watching the fire – then it was time to move on down stream. Navigating a river in the dark is always interesting. You loose all depth perception; it hard to tell how far you are from the bank. At one point we had to slip around a corner, in swift water, close to a line of trees on the left bank. I run that route almost ever trip – I know it like the back of my hand. I know it’s clear of rocks and obstructions. Still, sweeping past those trees in the dark it felt like we were going a million miles an hour – I had my teeth clenched waiting for the crash.

At another point I almost rain aground on a mid river island. In the dark I misjudged where I was in the river. I had to make a quick correction to get back to the proper channel. The whole time I was thinking, “If I’m fighting the river like this I wonder what the folks who don’t know where they are going are feeling about now.”

We ran down only a mile or so. There was a major rapid not too far below us. We didn’t want to deal with that in the dark unless we absolutely had to. We picked a spot for our new camp that was as far form the fire and its projected path as we could possibly get but still above that rapid. It was actually on private land right on the club house lawn. We didn’t think anybody would mind the trespass under the circumstances.

The other boat, with the folks who had gone down to put out the alarm, was waiting for us. The guide and one of the clients were still out on their mission. The second client was there waiting with the boat. As we were setting up our new camp, which was nothing more than cots and sleeping bags under the stars, we saw the fire truck and several other vehicles head upstream toward the fire. We knew then that our people had been successful but they didn’t actually get back to camp until after three in the morning.

They had hiked down river about a quarter of a mile and crossed over to Dant on the old ferry boat. There they were not able to get to a phone, but they did find someone with a car. They rode with them down to the care takers cabin where the alarm was raised.

After that they came back with the care taker, Bruce, and help him turn on the sprinklers on one fishing cabin that was in the path of the fire and then they helped him use the truck to fight the fire back from another cabin. By all accounts that second cabin and possibly both would have been lost if our boys hadn’t gotten out the alarm and hadn’t helped with the fire fighting efforts.

Next morning we woke at the regular hour. We set up a quick kitchen on the bank of the river right behind our boats. We put some dining tables up on a flat just a little higher up. By the time the guest awoke the coffee was ready and the pancakes were cooking.

We were soon back fishing as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. I still have to offer kudos to both my staff and our clients. Everybody pitched in – they all performed flawlessly. When it was finally said and done we had performed a pretty good night’s work. We not only got ourselves and all of our equipment out of harms way we also made sure that anyone camped around us was safely out too. On top of that we raised the alarm for the fire and then helped with the fire fighting efforts. Our effort directly accounted for one cabin being saved and possibly two. Not a bad effort for a bunch of happy idiots that take people flyfishing for a living.

For the future I sincerely hope we never have to show our skills in that way ever again but if we do we’ve been tested – we’re clearly prepared.