The town of Ridgway, population 1,183 at the last census, has a new neighbor: the Incident Command Post (ICP) for the Gold Mountain Fire. The population of the ICP was 992 Sunday, though the post not been around long enough for a census. At 6 a.m. on Sunday morning at the 4-H event center and fairgrounds, members of the Rocky Mountain Complex Incident Management Team (CIMT) 2 sipped coffee, gathered up the day’s Incident Action Plan, and formed a semicircle to hear the morning briefing.
Like any true town, the ICP has culture. There is a uniform, Nomex pants and work boots, and there is local language.
“We did have a UAS intrusion yesterday on the fire, and just a reminder, if there’s a non-participating UAS that starts flying in the area, we have to shut down the air show,” said Scott McCondie, of Air Operations.
To an outsider, this would have sounded important but a bit gnomic. But, to a seasoned member of the CIMT at the ICP, it was evident that McCondie was referring to an unmanned aircraft system, in this case a drone, which an as-yet unidentified civilian had released over the fire the day before, forcing McCondie’s aircraft to cease operations.
The Gold Mountain Fire was 37,809 acres and 13% contained Sunday morning. Rodney Redinger, one of two incident commanders at the post, listed a change in shift schedules before growing solemn.
“Starting tomorrow, they’re going to start the extraction process for the helicopter from the 12th,” he said.
Helicopter pilot Nicholas Dale had passed away at Silver Jack Reservoir on July 12, a week before. A sympathetic murmur ran through the crowd. On a separate note, Redinger reminded the team, it was national ice cream day, and they should call their moms.
“Take care of those that are taking care of us as well,” he said. “Have a great day!”
The next four hours, like every morning, would be among the most intense at the post.
By 6:30 a.m., the firefighters were nearly ready to leave. Kylie Schaffstein, a firefighter who works for Laramie County Fire Authority in Wyoming, had been up since 4:30 a.m..
“We start [fire] truck checks by 5,” Schaffstein said.
Firefighters can expect to arrive on scene by 8 a.m., then work until 8 or 9 p.m., for a working day of around 16 hours, after which they generally eat, shower and go to bed in their tents at the ICP. This was a first deployment for Schaffstein, as well as Christian Schmidt, who lives in Denver and works for Monument Fire.
“Our fires back home, structure fires have been five-hour incidents and brush fires less than that,” said Schmidt. “So the scale of this is enormous.”
“The longest I’ve ever been at my job is a 16-hour fire overnight,” agreed Schaffstein. “So [being here] for 14 working days, and it goes even longer than I’m going to be here, that’s a weird perspective.”
Neither Schaffstein nor Schmidt had been on the front lines of the fire yet. Schaffstein had been protecting structures and patrolling in the Foxtrot area, while Schmidt had been off of 858 and Foxtrot, relaying weather data. That Sunday, though, Schaffstein was scheduled nearer to the fire line.
“I’m hoping we see some action," she said.
At 7 a.m., most of the firefighters drove away. Left at the ICP were 109 administrators, staff and medical personnel, the permanent members of Team 2. Firefighters are sourced from the district, region or nation, depending on their availability, and the entire team rotates out every 14 days. Because of the scale of the fire, it’s a diverse operation.
“We have people from 37 states and the Virgin Islands,” said Public Information Officer Kim Haiar.
The size of the ICP is striking. Across the approximately 20-acre camp, rows of camping tents occupy the race track, while two long lines of white campers, 21 in all, in the parking lot are reserved solely for office work. Two shower units and five hand-washing stations dot the post at regular intervals. At the kitchen, where food preparation is contracted out to Cattlemen’s Meat Company, three chefs work each shift for up to 12 hours at a time.
“The breakfast shift will come in at 10 at night, and they’ll work until 11, 12 in the afternoon,” said caterer Butch Smith. “And then evening shift comes in, does the same thing.”
The kitchen produces vast amounts of food in order to support nearly 1,000 firefighters. Each day requires 5,000 calories per person, which means 400 pounds of meat a day, 90 gallons of coffee and up to 400 loaves of bread every lunch.
“If you have an office job and you eat everything we serve, you’re going to gain 10 pounds on a roll,” noted Jim Haiar, food unit leader.
Supporting an operation of this size, as well as its smaller sibling, the forward operating base an hour away off of US 50, which supports 300 of the then-992 workers, requires an equally large budget.
“We’re running almost $2 million a day,” said chief of finance Sarah Rietz.
The operation is a cost-share between the federal, state and county governments.
By 10 a.m., the fairgrounds were hot and dusty. A faint puff of smoke could be seen on the hills across Highway 550, but otherwise, there was no sign of the fire, nor of the 800 or so firefighters battling it. In the meantime, the rest of the team attended meetings, cooked dinner or prepared maps, awaiting the stream of trucks in the evening, so that they could wake up the next day and fight again.
