Fall 1998

[TEXT ARCHIVE WEB-PUBLISHED MARCH 2002.
ORIGINAL PRINT PUBLICATION DATE: FALL 1998.]

Working the Wilderness: Prairie Burn

By Joe Neumann

A microphone in front of my face and a 40-pound water-pack on my back. Every burn is an event, but today a camera crew from Bill Kurtis's "New Explorers" television series is here to record the burn, and we feel we're making news as well.

Gensburg Markham Prairie south of Chicago is that rarest of entities — a large, high-quality prairie. Our plan calls for burning the center of the site, more than 50 acres.

A first-class burn crew has been assembled, a mix of professionals and volunteers — though today, no matter what your title, we are all volunteers. We wear hard hats, Nomex suits, and have specialized tools. Nomex is a special flame-retardant cloth. Two leaders carry drip torches — canisters of gasoline and diesel fuel used to spread the fire. Six of us carry backpack pumps to spray water. Others have flappers or swatters. These are flat slabs of rubber attached to stout five-foot handles and used to smother weaker flames. We also have a 50-gallon water tank with a 100-foot hose mounted on a pick-up truck.

Everyone must have an assignment. There will be two teams, one led by Bill Sluis, the steward of nearby Paintbrush Prairie; the other led by Marcy De Mauro, superintendent of planning and development with the Will County Forest Preserve District.

A Prairie Dies

Marcy needs two people for a special assignment. A line of telephone poles cuts across the burn area. These poles must be kept wet, and this assignment will isolate the two who undertake it. Chuck, a burn veteran, volunteers immediately. When no one else seems eager to accept this assignment, I volunteer too. Marcy cross-examines me about my burn experience. I tell her that I have participated in about 100 burns and have taken the S-190 US Forest Service fire training course.

With all the preparations complete, the crew moves to its stations. Marcy's team covers the east and south sides of the prairie. Bill leads his team, with the camera crew in tow, east along the north end.

Chuck and I assume our positions by the poles towards the west. Our instructions call for us to wet the telephone poles when the fire approaches. As little time as possible must be left before the flames arrive for the sun and wind to dry the poles. A special wetting agent is added to our packs to make the water "wetter," that is, less quick to evaporate. Chuck and I have two waterpacks apiece, one to wet the poles and one as a back-up.

Firebreaks

In preparation for the burn, the stalks at the base of the poles have been mowed down. The borders of the burn area receive a similar treatment. A 10-foot wide mowed strip encircles the entire burn area: a fire break. Cutting down the stalks that fuel the fire cuts down the height of the flames. We will extinguish the flames once they enter this strip.

Ideally, the wind should be of moderate, steady strength and from a definite direction. Today's wind is predominately from the west with a slightly southern bent. This wind will push a free-roaming fire to the northeast, so that section must be secured.

Starting at the northeast corner of the burn area, Bill's crew will work its way west, igniting the north side. The flames will be allowed to advance to the south but will be snuffed as they back into the mowed strip to the north. Marcy and her team will proceed south igniting the eastern and then the southern edges of the burn area. The flames Marcy sets will be allowed to burn to the west against the wind but will be snuffed out to the east. The pick-up truck and its water tank is assigned to Marcy's team since the wind direction will make the fire along the eastern break the most difficult one to control. The expressway east of the prairie is another cause for concern. Not only the flames, but the smoke they create, must be carefully controlled.

First Puff of Smoke

From my perspective, the crew assembling at the northeast corner of the burn area appears little larger than ants. They huddle for what seems like the longest time. Finally they disperse and assume their positions. A puff of smoke signals ignition. Now vigorous flames are visible. Marcy's crew on the east edge of the burn area soon disappears from sight behind some subtle slope. But Bill's crew to the north is fully visible.

When a fire acts ornery, it forces you into close contact with it. Heat tugs the skin of your face taut then. But little sign of such a situation is evident today. Bill's crew is strung out along the line while Bill advances west in an orderly fashion with his drip-torch. He ignites about 20 feet along the burn line, then pauses to allow his team to control the flames before he advances again. Bill and his team, like burn crew cowboys, have this flaming herd of steers moving just the right way. Great bales of smoke rise from the flames, swelling into an appropriately prairie-sized mass, dwarfing the crew below it.

Behind me is a gate. Today is Saturday, and the prairie has visitors. The first ones to arrive are a couple who sometimes help weed the prairie. They bring their dogs and are eager to see how the burn is doing. Next comes a man on his way to Kankakee who stops by for a look around. And then there is a mother with two teenage daughters.

"Why are you burning the prairie?" the mother asks me in a concerned tone as her two anxious-eyed daughters look on. I give her the short course. "Because the prairie likes to be burned."

Slowly and carefully, the burn teams make progress. Marcy's group completes the eastern fire break and begins the southern one. The other team has progressed halfway along the northern border of the burn area.

A broad "black zone" now exists at the edges of the burn area. A black zone would be the safest place to stand if you were ever caught in a fire. All the fuel there has already been incinerated. Reaching such an area, a fire can do nothing but die. The flames set by the teams have all been tailored so that this black zone grows ever broader and more encompassing. The more progress the flames make, the more they are contained.

The burn teams are busy constructing a cage for the fire, and Marcy approaches at the head of a procession of burn team, pick-up truck, and camera crew. They are close nowŠlet them get a little closer. A little closer still. Time to soak those poles.

Once each pole is wet all the way around, I rush on to the next one. The water sloshing about in the pack throws off my strides.

Thanks to a cooperative wind, the entire north burn team has time to help protect the poles. Gary and his waterpack help Chuck. Steve rakes away the mowed stalks at the base of the poles. Bill ignites the areas about the poles so that each will be protected from the main fire by its own black zone. We are being waved out of the way now. The main fire closes in on us. I give a pole a last squirt and then dart back to the safety of the firebreak.

Fire Let Loose

The fire is let loose. Driven by the full force of the wind, the flames barrel by the poles, and then blast off. Picture a Michael Jordan slam-dunk. In a flash the flames vanish into dense billows of smoke. Red and yellow tint this cloud's edges while orange-brown packs its interior.

There is little time to gawk at the sight. For all the main fire's ferociousness, a broad black zone corrals it. But the backfire still working its way west needs to be extinguished. Backing against the wind, with only the stubble of the mowed strip to fuel it, this fire is no match for the entire crew. We snuff it with ease.

In the wake of the fire, everything is charred — except for the poles. The Potawatomi word for prairie translates as "burnt-over bare ground." This feature — not the vastness nor the luxurious growth nor the great herds of bison — is the trait that Native Americans most associated with prairie. This burnt-over bare ground does not look like much now, but as sure as spring, the sun will warm this exposed soil and bring forth a bounty of blooms.

Joe Neumann has volunteered to restore native habitats, mainly in the Palos area of Cook County, since 1990. He also serves as steward of the Ashburn Prairie in Marquette Park.