I'm really not one for heroics. I've never beat up the bad guy or saved the girl but I did once save Oakland county from... well, from me.
I was on a day trip to do some nature photography in early spring. It was a beautiful day but quite windy. I found a nice spot on top of a hill and sat on a log to enjoy my sandwich and a beer. I love campfires so I gathered a few dead tree limbs and kindled a small fire. Shortly thereafter, a stab of wind kicked at the fire and sent some sparks into the tinder-dry grasses. I jumped to my feet to stomp on it but before I could, fire was already racing down the hill.
My stomping had little effect so I yanked off my beloved denim jacket and started swatting. I was gaining some control on the sides but the wind kept pushing the fire farther down the hill so I knew I'd have to meet it head on rather than working the flanks.
The wind was from the north and all of Oakland county lie to the south.
Though in a complete panic with adrenalin flowing like a river, I could envision the lead story; Conflagration burns from Sunday through Tuesday, leaving hundreds homeless and destroying twenty square miles of forest land in northern Oakland county. The fire, which was thought to have been created by a mishap involving a cow and a lamp turned out to have been caused by the reckless behavior of a careless idiot. He is tentatively identified as Bud Beeler of Oxford.
I stood my ground in the path of the inferno and flailed with the jacket at roughly two hundred beats per minute. In the throes of incredible fury, I began gaining the upper hand and pushed past my exhaustion into a mechanical frenzy.
And then it was over. I collapsed to my hands and knees among the char and wept briefly before vomiting.
After a delirious period of shaking I felt stable enough to get to my feet and walk wearily back to my car. Twisting the rear view mirror down to get a look at my red, blistered face, I didn't recognize myself. I used to have a moustache and eyebrows. The front of my scalp was a hard mat of melted hair.
It was several days before I stopped coughing up soot and just as long for the ache of my depleted muscles to ease.
I'm less trusting of fire now. When I build a campfire, I use more caution. And I like to have a denim jacket handy... just in case.
I was on a day trip to do some nature photography in early spring. It was a beautiful day but quite windy. I found a nice spot on top of a hill and sat on a log to enjoy my sandwich and a beer. I love campfires so I gathered a few dead tree limbs and kindled a small fire. Shortly thereafter, a stab of wind kicked at the fire and sent some sparks into the tinder-dry grasses. I jumped to my feet to stomp on it but before I could, fire was already racing down the hill.
My stomping had little effect so I yanked off my beloved denim jacket and started swatting. I was gaining some control on the sides but the wind kept pushing the fire farther down the hill so I knew I'd have to meet it head on rather than working the flanks.
The wind was from the north and all of Oakland county lie to the south.
Though in a complete panic with adrenalin flowing like a river, I could envision the lead story; Conflagration burns from Sunday through Tuesday, leaving hundreds homeless and destroying twenty square miles of forest land in northern Oakland county. The fire, which was thought to have been created by a mishap involving a cow and a lamp turned out to have been caused by the reckless behavior of a careless idiot. He is tentatively identified as Bud Beeler of Oxford.
I stood my ground in the path of the inferno and flailed with the jacket at roughly two hundred beats per minute. In the throes of incredible fury, I began gaining the upper hand and pushed past my exhaustion into a mechanical frenzy.
And then it was over. I collapsed to my hands and knees among the char and wept briefly before vomiting.
After a delirious period of shaking I felt stable enough to get to my feet and walk wearily back to my car. Twisting the rear view mirror down to get a look at my red, blistered face, I didn't recognize myself. I used to have a moustache and eyebrows. The front of my scalp was a hard mat of melted hair.
It was several days before I stopped coughing up soot and just as long for the ache of my depleted muscles to ease.
I'm less trusting of fire now. When I build a campfire, I use more caution. And I like to have a denim jacket handy... just in case.
