As I've stated in other blogs, my Ag flying season usually ended about mid-July in this neck of the woods, namely north Idaho. Being well acquainted with most of the commercial pilots, operators and other aviation persons in the area, I could usually expect to be called upon to perform other types of flying if I was available, which I most often was.
Flying for the aviation operators who had contracts with the U.S. Forest Service was often my best offer. Some years it was as a patrol pilot, sometimes as what was generally referred to as a utility pilot, some years as a tanker pilot and some seasons it was a combination of patrol and utility flying.
As a patrol pilot, the planes I flew were usually a Cessna 180, a Cessna 185, a Cessna 206 or a single engine Pilatus Porter. My duties were to fly a specific route each day with a forest service person on board as an observer/radio operator. On his lap he would have a detailed map of the forest including the logging roads, the lookout towers and most important, the locations of the landing strips.
Of course, we were primarily looking for fires in the great back-country of Idaho, Oregon, and sometimes other states of the Northwest. These forested areas were in the custody of the U.S. Forest Service.
There were many look-out towers scattered on strategic peaks in the various forests. As we fly by these towers, we contact them by radio to find out if they have spotted a smoke or other indication of the sightings. Usually it is just an old snag that is smoldering from a lightning strike or possible just dust from a logging road.
Anyways, if we spotted an actual fire, we contacted a base of operations and give the exact location of the fire and particulars such as how large the blaze, the intensity of the blaze, if there is fuel around it, or is it isolated. With this information the people at this forest’s headquarters will then decide what the suppression response is to be - maybe a couple of smoke-jumpers can handle it or maybe a half dozen will be required. Maybe a tanker aircraft can be sent to snuff it out, etc.
One year, the contracting company I worked for put me in a Cessna 206. This 300 hp, six place aircraft had been modified a bit so it could carry two smoke-jumpers and a jump master as I made my patrol circuit. The modifications included the removal of the large rear door on the right side of the fuselage as well as the four rear passenger seats. A small cable was attached on the inside of the fuselage opposite the large rear door to which parachute static lines could be attached. The opposite end of the static line was attached to the rip cord of the jumpers parachute so when he leaped out and fell away from the plane it would pull a handle and deploy the chute. There were a few other modifications as well.
So now if we spotted a fire or a suspicious smoke while flying my routine route, the jump master, an old experienced smoke jumper, would have a look at the fire or potential fire and decide if a couple of smoke-jumpers could handle it. If not, he reported this to Forest headquarters.
I no longer had to call for another aircraft to come out and take care of the situation. Instead the jump master would have me fly over the target and he would toss out some streamers which were long strips of DayGlo colored cloth which were attached to a small weight. He would observe the way the streamers drifted and note the time it took them to reach the ground. These streamers were designed to descend at about the same rate as a parachute jumper. He would then make the decision whether or not to deploy the two jumpers.
If he decided to deploy, he would give me the altitude and direction to fly over the target. I would slow the aircraft to a speed that was appropriate and as we came over the target area, he would give the command, “go!!” and the jumpers bailed out. As soon as the jumpers hit the ground, the jump master would have me roll into a bank and circle the boys and they would give us a signal. In those days we had no radio contact with them so we used signals.
If we received no signal it usually meant something was wrong and we acted accordingly. If the signal was “all is well,” then the jump-master would have me fly over them at about two or three hundred feet altitude above the ground and bring him over the target two more times. Each time he would shove out what appeared to be a large canvas duffel bag that was called a “fire-pack.” This bag contained the necessary equipment, survival gear and food rations the jumpers would need. When this was done, our mission was accomplished and we would generally head back to base. As we did so, the jump master would talk to the base on the radio and give them the exact location and other particulars as to where the fire was and the information that the jumpers were deployed.
As a rule, this system worked very well. We had a hitch only a few times during this fire season. One time after dropping the jumpers I was circling the them as they were descending and the jump master became a bit excited and cursed and said, "One of the boys has a line over!!" This was a condition when one of the lines that supported the jumper below the parachute had become misplaced over the top of the canopy. It causes the canopy to spill air out of the side and this would increase the speed of descent and the jumper would hit the ground hard - sometimes hard enough to injure him, like a broken leg or even a broken back. Fortunately, on this occasion the jumper was not hurt.
On another instance because of wind currents, a jumper came down in some very tall trees. His chute became entangled with a dead limb. The limb gave way and the jumper fell about forty or fifty feet through the branches and hit the ground hard enough to break a leg. As we circled to see if all was well, no one gave us a signal. We could not see down in the thick trees so we didn’t know exactly what had happen but assumed something was wrong and called base. They soon had a helicopter on the way to pick the boy up.
An interesting little aside - If it was a very windy day with lots of updrafts and downdrafts the jump master would throw out his streamers and decide it was too dangerous to deploy the smoke jumpers. So we would report this to headquarters and then continue on with our surveillance and no one left the plane. On some of these flights we might have some newbies on board. As one might expect, they were usually a bit nervous. If it happened to be one of those windy, bumpy days, out of pure orneriness, the jump-master would throw out his streamers and watch them fall. Then throw out more streamers and watch them with a look of concern, knowing full well he had no intentions of deploying the jumpers he would throw out some more and watch them intently, at which time the new jumpers who were already sweating would usually curse him and sing out, “You son of a____, you aren’t going to kick us out in this kind of wind are you?" At which time the jump-master would grin or chuckle and say, "You boys ain’t skeered are you?" He would look at me and wink and say, "I guess these here boys is too skeered of a little breeze so I guess you will have to take us home."
As a utility pilot, I was called upon to do many different types of flying. I hauled forest service personnel to various destinations, such as carrying Forest Service VIPs from our base in Coldwell, Idaho to the Ogden, Utah office or other destinations. I would transport Forest Service people to strips in the back country on various kinds of business or fly in to pick them up and bring them back to the base. I hauled loads of feed for horse or mules into the outback strips because some Forest Service people use these animals, since there are no roads to these strips. And any number of other similar errands. This was my favorite kind of flying because there was something new almost every day and it was not so monotonous.
As an example, on one occasion I transported some horseshoe farriers into a back-country strip where a forest service ranger lived and used horses and mule regularly as pack animals or to ride. It took most of the day for the farriers to do their work. I had to stay there with nothing to do until they finished. It was interesting to watch them work because some of the mules were five or six years old and had never had shoes on their hooves and they didn’t like the idea of anyone messing with their feet. The farriers knew their business though, and some of the animals they led out to a grove of small trees where they were thrown down, turned upside down and their legs lashed to a tree. In this position it then was easy for the shoes to be nailed on.
I remember one of the animals resisting every attempt. Nevertheless, he got a set of shoes anyway. He was so put angry when they took the ropes off him, he refused to get up. He lay there making strange mule noises. One of the farriers picked up an empty tin-can. Filling it with water, he then walked over to the protesting mule and lifted up one of his big ears and proceeded to pour it full of water. I’m here to tell you that mule came up in a big hurry!!! Slinging his head from side to side he gave forth such braying as I had never heard. We all had a big laugh at his antics. At sundown we loaded up and flew back to base.
As a tanker pilot, my job was to fly an aircraft heavily loaded with fire-retardant and drop it on the fires. When I was involved with this type of flying, single engine planes were still in use. This was considered the most dangerous with good reason. As a tanker pilot one must fly a plane heavily loaded with fire retardant to the fire site. Skimming low over the blazing forest, he drops the load. If the fire happened to be located on a flat meadow in an easy accessed area, it was not so bad.
However, more often than not it was in a rugged piece of real-estate with deep canyons and steep, heavily forested mountains all around. The air was full of smoke with wicked up and down-drafts causing the plane to buck and pitch enough to rattle your teeth, as all the while you are trying to place the retardant where it will do the most good. Believe me, it ain’t easy and was quite dangerous. I lost some good friends who were carrying out this work. Of course, this type of tanker planes is not in use anymore, only larger multi-engine type aircraft and planes especially designed are in use now days. It is still dangerous duty and requires a pilot with good judgement and a steady hand and nerves.
