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In dawn’s half light at Lake Selmac, as hundreds of firefighters gathered for a 6 a.m. Klondike East Zone fire briefing, the mood was serious. Wildfires are dangerous business after all — and this crowd looked exactly like the kind of people you’d want around during an emergency. Though after several presentations, ranging from fire behavior and meteorology to operations, it was the safety briefing that finally brought some levity to the crowd. Medical Unit Leader Meredith Lund lurched around on stage with a can of Red Bull in her hand, simulating what happens when the sugary drink “turns your blood to sludge.” Then, becoming serious, she told the firefighters that sugar-based energy drinks can cause “anxiety, kidney damage and cardio problems.” Fire camp briefings are generally quick and concise — as there’s an ever-present awareness pervading all interactions that time is perhaps the wildland firefighter’s most precious commodity. “They’re either working or sleeping,” said Deputy Incident Commander Tony Doty. “They work 15-hour days, so that’s how it needs to be.” He said firefighters take mandatory half-hour breaks very six hours, but added, “at this point in the season we start to see signs of long-term fatigue, so we mitigate for that with shorter shifts.” Many lifelong friendships are forged during these lengthy days on the fire line, Doty said. Though back at fire camp “it’s pretty much just the basics, eating, showering and diving into a sleeping bag” after tools and equipment are sharpened and prepped for the next day’s effort. With 1,200 firefighters working on the 82,000-acre Klondike fire, keeping life simple is a constant logistical challenge — and that means support personnel are kept hopping around the clock, especially when three firefighting shifts are on the job. “It’s like a small city, and that’s main street,” said Information Officer Meg Cicciarella, gesturing to a rows of yurts labeled: Resource Advisors, Operations, Planning, Recycling, Human Resources, Finance, Information, Medical Tent, Safety, Check-in, Facilities, IT, Incident Command, Meetings and more. “There’s unity in this city that exists for just one purpose,” she said. “And that tight focus helps counter chaos.” She added that the entire camp is “essentially on wheels and can arrive — or evacuate — in a matter of hours.” Even the famous 6,000-calorie-a-day meals are prepared in semi-trailers. Firefighters climb stairs to a window to grab a plateful of hot chow. Then, bag lunches are taken into the field and many enjoy burritos placed on rocks that heat up nicely for lunchtime. There are plenty of women in fire camp serving in all roles. On a typical 90-person firefighting team, more than a third are women, according to Doty, who added that women are also filling key leadership positions. “Like Karen Schold in operations, she’s one of the best,” Doty said. “She supervises hot shot crews and task force leaders. A big chunk of the dirt is hers. We’re seeing more women hot shots too.” People in camp often pause when Hot Shot “buggys” roll by. These 20-person teams blow into camp for a few days to address a tricky portion of a fire — and then they blow out again, reassigned to another sketchy fire where their skills are badly needed. Doty, who was a hot shot 40 years ago, said “they are elite athletes, mostly in their 20s up to their early 40s, who are known for a high level of capability.” To become a hot shot one must be able to hike three miles in 45 minutes while wearing a 45-pound pack. Hot shots receive about 80 hours of training and then largely learn on the job. Each crew carries a number of trainees. Regular firefighters “who are the backbone of any operation” receive 40 hours of initial training, and like hot shots, also continue training on the job. Cicciarella said firefighters develop a situational awareness that’s based on both training and intuition. “There’s the science of it; and then there’s the art of it,” she said. Wildland firefighting is one of the riskiest jobs in the world, but when mistakes are made, or worse, if a life is lost, Doty says that everyone involved tries to “figure out how to prevent it from happening again. And that creates a level of trust. “We are a culture of learning as opposed to a culture of blaming,” he said. Now, as Doty’s team transitions out after their 14-day assignment, the Northwest Incident Management Team 12 is taking over on the Klondike’s East Zone, where the fire is now 39 percent contained. Fire lines are holding along Klondike’s eastern and southern edges and, while residents living in communities along Highway 199 have heaved a sigh of relief, most remain vigilant with the knowledge that some interior smokes still burn and many weeks of fire season are yet ahead. Fire managers are shifting some equipment and manpower to the Klondike Fire West operation headquartered at the county fairgrounds in Gold Beach. That end of the fire, managed by California Interagency Incident Management Team 4, continues to present challenges. Now north of Silver Creek, the blaze is growing in that rugged and remote part of the Rogue River-Siskiyou National Forest, and the area is currently “inaccessible to ground crews as there’s no safe options to directly attack” the fire along its active edge. So the focus right now is to strengthen primary lines farther out, to protect coastal residents and those living in Agness, where helibase is now operational. Interactive map of current evacuation levels is available at http://bit.ly/joco-evac . Get emergency alerts at www.rvem.org . Learn more about the fire at: swojic.blogspot.com / or call 541.474.5305. Another great resource for information is: inciweb.nwcg.gov/incident/5998 .