The earth drops away. The only thing between me and the ground is the fuselage of a Bell 205 chopper. I feel calm. The chaos and urgency of responding to a wildfire has a quieting effect on me.
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I’m not alone. Flying low, our pilot, a Vietnam veteran, wears a coy, mischievous grin, silent amidst the constant radio chatter and powerful drone of rotors. Navigating with skill and ease, he holds steady as we approach a vast granite wall looming hundreds of feet into Idaho’s blue sky. He pretends to lose control of the helicopter for a moment. Eyes fixed on the horizon, my squad boss and captain are unimpressed by his antics. This isn’t our first rodeo. Realizing he isn’t dealing with a crew of greenhorns, the prankster pilot regains his composure, pulling the chopper up and over the craggy monolith, chuckling as he clears the top by mere feet. My crew, the Panhandle Hotshots, has been called to assist the Missoula Smokejumpers in containing a lightning strike that’s gotten out of control: one hotshot crew, four jumpers, hundreds of acres ablaze. We have our work cut out for us. We descend into an open valley and find ourselves deep in the Frank Church-River of No Return Wilderness. No roads, no trails, this country is ruled by no man. Surrounded by steep mountains, the lush valley below is protected by peaks rugged and forlorn—ancient warriors ordained to guard sacred ground, steadfast and loyal. Black billows rise above the blaze high on a mountainside. It appears to be rapidly increasing in size and intensity.
The night sky lights up as if the sun is rising, and the rumble of the devouring inferno is deafening. explorebigsky.com
Mountain
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