On the Other Side of Fire
Writing on Wildfire in Western Canada
It has been a strange summer without a tower to climb and a forest to watch over, without keeping vigil for lightning and calling in strikes and listening to the voices of my friends over the two-way radios.
Stranger even to have left the world of wildfire during such a season. The word “unprecedented” is triggering to those who’ve worked the frontlines of many different aggressive, destructive wildfires in seasons past, not to mention those communities who’ve endured unthinkable losses to wildfires in recent memory: Lytton, Fort McMurray, Slave Lake, Paddle Prairie. The media is obsessed with the word “unprecedented” but here, let’s use “unforgettable”, instead. If you’ve been paying attention since the Flat Top Complex in 2011, you’d know there’s, indeed, several precedents to this year’s situation. No one should be saying, “we didn’t see it coming”.
Large-scale fire events cycle every five years, or so, a reality that is poised to become more frequent with the influence of a rapidly warming climate. My colleagues and I had been bracing ourselves for a big fire year.
In early May, when the wildfire season we’d all been anticipating finally exploded in Alberta, I was hiking into a glacier in Kluane National Park, Yukon Territory.
I was a world away from the fire tower and experiences of my friends on the frontlines. And yet, when I gazed down at the glacier’s slithering body, not only did I see ice — I saw fire, too.
This summer I learnt that, despite physically leaving the fire tower, a part of me will always be looking out for smoke and fire. Once you are immersed long enough in the culture and ecology of wildfire, it’s impossible to experience the world any other way.
(Photo Credit: Miles Ladd)
But I also discovered how liberating — cathartic, even — it has been to leave my job with Alberta Wildfire and finally be able to write about wildfires and forest management and the experiences of frontline workers more critically, without the fear of losing my job, or not being hired back the following season. (A legit fear that people face about speaking out on issues, especially in Alberta, where seasonal workers don’t have automatic recall rights).
Days after the wildfires blew up in May, I wrote a story for the Narwhal, which shed light on the frustrating government cuts endured over last four years, that have hindered the effectiveness of firefighting in the province. That story rushed out of me like a torrent. Publicly, it hit a nerve and was shared on Twitter over 100k times. The response and feedback from the article made me realize how the frontline wildfire experience is a narrative that’s been long missing from the public consciousness.
This past summer, I’ve had the opportunity to write about wildfire from outside the system, from “the other side of fire”, to help better tell the stories of what’s happening on the frontlines in Western Canada.
(Photo Credit: Miles Ladd)
Recently, I was commissioned to write a piece examining how the wildfire season has impacted Canada’s tree-planting and reforestation efforts. A highlight for me was interviewing two veteran tree-planters who’ve worked in the Peace Country for twenty years, who told me that while they’re accustomed to planting in the proximity of fires, this season was unlike anything else they’d experienced. They witnessed the aftermath of the wildfires that torched through thousands of hectares of young coniferous forest that they’d planted decades ago.
Yet, tree-planting, or at least, the way we’ve historically replanted forest with solely timber extraction in mind, is also a huge part of the problem. Speaking with Indigenous fire specialist, Joe Gilchrist, opened my eyes, especially when he said: “what the public needs to realize is that our forests are not natural.” This story will be published with Corporate Knights, a syndicate for the Globe and Mail, later this fall.
BC-based photojournalist, Jesse Winter, whose work I’ve long admired, reached out to me in late May to see if I’d be willing to collaborate on a story, and if so, what should we focus on?
Yes, I wrote back in a heartbeat. Followed by, “firefighting and mental health”, a silent crisis that’s long been ignored, or overlooked, internally and externally.
Over the past two months, Jesse and I have been slowly developing and working on this story. He’s joined the frontlines in BC to visually document the culture of wildland firefighting, while I’ve taken a deep dive in interviews with former and current firefighters about accumulated trauma and PTSD endured from multiple seasons of wildfire management. I’m excited for our coming feature on this important topic, which will be published with the Narwhal in the next couple of weeks.
(Photo Credit: Miles Ladd)
One of the most emotional stories that I was asked to write this summer is a biographical portrait to honour the life and work of Devyn Gale, a firefighter who died on the frontlines of a wildfire outside Revelstoke, BC, on July 13. I am grateful to her family for giving me permission to write this story, and to Devyn’s crew, who shared with me some beautiful stories about the firefighter and person that Devyn was. She will be honoured in an upcoming issue of Chatelaine Magazine. I was humbled and deeply touched to learn about her life and the positive impact she had on those around her.
It’s been a heartbreaking season of losses on the fire lines in Western Canada. I am thinking of the friends, families and crew members of those who died in Alberta, BC, and NWT — Devyn Gale, Ryan Gould, Adam Yeadon, and Zac Muise — and the legacy of love and stories they leave behind.
(Photo Credit: Miles Ladd)
Next month, I will dive into research for a feature for Alberta Views magazine that reflects on this past fire season. I look forward to asking the experts — wildfire ecologists, managers, Indigenous communities, and firefighters — where do we go from here?
How do we become more resilient and more prepared on the frontlines? How do we better care for those who dedicate — and sacrifice — their lives to respond to the crisis?
Thinking of all of my friends and former colleagues and feeling immense gratitude for the tough seasons they put in this year. I hope you get the rest and care and support that you deserve this off-season.
Thanks to my good friend and firefighter, Miles Ladd, for allowing me to publish some of his amazing photographs from the NWT frontlines here.