Sunday, February 13, 2022

86 - Who were the Storm King 14? Uncle Albert’s Mountain, What was the Coal Seam Fire?

                                                   

In Memory of the Storm King 14, South Canyon Fire, 1994.

The Coal Seam Fire, 2002







                                       The Coal Seam Fire

                                         Albert Bianchine


     Katie Delaney posted around the arena in a walk, trot and canter, warming up Fortune. All the while she glanced at the ominous three -foot jump set up in the center. She knew the Hanoverian cross Quarter Horse, at over seventeen hands tall, could easily do it- she, herself, was the problem. She tried not to think of it, but it was like not thinking of a white elephant. Once the image is etched in your mind you can’t think of anything else. 

     “Katie, concentrate on your lead changes,” Marie Maclevey said.

     Thin, muscular Marie was an expert dressage rider, Olympic competitor and jumping instructor. She came to Storm King Mountain Rescue Ranch in Glenwood Springs, Colorado from Aspen three times a week to work with Katie.

    “Good boy, Fortune,” Katie cued him to stop and patted him gently on the neck.

    She reached into her riding jacket pocket for a handkerchief and wiped her brow. It was oppressively and unseasonably hot with no rain in over two months. Katie was acutely aware of fire danger living on Storm King Mountain, the site of the South Canyon Fire, one of the worst American Forest Fire tragedies. The fire had spared the ranch but had taken the lives of fourteen hot shot smoke jumpers from Prineville, Oregon, further up on the mountain several years earlier. The silent charred sentinels above the ridge were ominous reminders of what westerly winds whipping through the narrow Colorado River Canyon can do to a fire.

     “Stop focusing on the jump, Katie,” Marie said harshly. “I want you to make one more pass on the jump, circle around and then jump.” She stepped closer to Fortune.

     “Your knees aren’t going to save you! Get your heels down! Lose your feet and lose your seat,” Marie tapped Katie’s knee to emphasize her point.

     “Walk on, Fortune,” Katie cued him with her heels.

     She quickly broke into a canter and made a large circle around the jump. She felt the familiar fear return. It wasn’t the fear of jumping; she loved the feeling of going up into the air. It was the landing that she feared. The horse’s front legs coming down and striking the ground, so many things to remember: chin out, heels down, seat planted firmly into the saddle.

     Fortune approached the jump, lifted his front legs and soared cleanly over it. His front legs came down, struck the ground and it appeared for a second as if Katie would keep her seat. However she leaned forward and landed with a thud on her back. Fortune took several strides, returned, and stood over her looking down. Katie struggled for her breath, she relaxed and it slowly began to return. She stood and dusted herself off. 

     “Katie, you have just got to stop clamping your knees. If you do the same thing every time you’ll keep getting the same result. I don’t think you have many more extreme landings in you,” Marie simply said.

     “I know, Marie, I know in my mind what to do, but then I land and panic and clamp my knees,” Katie said as she remounted Fortune.

     She gathered herself, and started over. This time she and Fortune soared cleanly over and they trotted to a stop.

     “I just pictured myself doing just that,” she said to Marie with a smile.

     “I knew you could Katie, your jumping is all in your mind. Let’s call this a day. I’ll see you next week.”

     “Thanks for all your help Marie,” Katie said.

     She turned and led Fortune toward the barn where her husband Will and the hired hand were working with the horses.

                                                              *    *   *

      The intense afternoon sun beat down on the already baked and parched Colorado earth. The oils from the sagebrush and pinyon pines oozed from cracks in their bark.  A strong wind moved down the Interstate 70 highway and Colorado River corridor. A red tailed hawk flew along the steep cliffs and the jagged mountain sides circling, being lifted ever higher by the hot thermal drafts. A large crack appeared and the ground split open. A coal seam that had been burning for years, inside the earth, leapt to the surface and sought out the dried alpine grasses and ignited them. They exploded in a ball of flames and consumed the sage and pinion oils with a ravenous hunger. The flames growing in size and intensity leapt into the cedars and pines creating a massive orange wall of flames. It darkened the afternoon sky. Large embers and ashes flew into the air. They easily jumped the Colorado River and four-lane highway. The wind funneled between the narrow corridor whistled and howled as it raged from the west out of Canyon Creek, pushing the fire toward the Storm King Rescue Ranch. 

                                                            *   *   *

     Katie tied Fortune to the hitching post outside the barn and loosened her billets. She gently patted his neck.

     “Good jumping Fortune, I know I’m going to get it, you’re such a good boy,” she said as she slipped her hand to the back of his neck and gave the horse an exuberant squeeze.

     “Will, Will,” Katie called as she turned and ran into the barn.

Turning at the sound of his name, Will saw Katie running down the hall in her riding jodhpurs.

     “What is it Katie?”

     “I jumped on Fortune, Will.”

     “You did,” Will said, hugging Katie.

     “The smaller jumps were easy, but I fell on the big one the first time. The second time I soared over it. It was exciting. I pictured myself clearing the jump, and then I did it.”

     “I’m really happy for you. You’ve come a long way.”

     “Yes I have, Will. How are the horses this morning?”

     “They’re good, Big Will is nursing. I’ll show you what Tom and I did right after I am finished with Little Man, Sage and Buddy. We’ve already taken care of Sister and her foal Precious. Come on and look at them with me.”

     “Ok, but I’ve got Fortune tied. I’ll have to be quick, he’s in the shade but Will, it’s so hot,” Katie reached for Will’s hand.

     They walked across the hallway, past Bo the Buckskin Stallion, to Little Man’s stall. The three day old orphaned foal was standing next to the older red dun quarter horse, Sage. She moved slowly towards the couple on arthritic swollen front knees. The foal shadowed the mare closely. Even though she could not nurse him, they had become very close.

     “I have his bottle here,” Tom said to Will and Katie as he entered the stall.

     “He’s taking the bottle well,” Katie said.

     “I think he’s going to be alright, that is if we make it, between feeding him and Big Will every four hours,” Will chuckled.

     “There isn’t anything that any of us would do differently, is there?” Katie asked.

     “No,” both Will and Tom said simultaneously.

     “I don’t think that Buddy likes sharing his wife,” Will said.

     “He thinks that being twenty six makes him head of the ranch, he is a  

grandson of Poco Bueno and great grandson of King, he really is!” Katie walked over to Buddy.

     “Let’s look in on Big Will, then I need to get Fortune out of the heat,” Katie replied.

     Katie walked to the stall and stopped abruptly; she turned to the cowboys with a sheepish grin and asked, “What’s this?”

     “I guess you could call it a horse jumper,” Tom was the quickest to reply.

     “It seems to be working,” Will added. “The harness fits around his torso and the spring hanging from the ceiling is allowing him to stand and move in a small circle.”

     “He is able to nurse if we bring Brooks right alongside him,” Tom said.

     Katie turned and faced the boys; there were tears in her eyes.

     “He’s going to make it, isn’t he?” she quipped confidently.

     “Only time and a lot of late nights will tell.” Will said, walking to Katie and putting his arm around her shoulder.

     “Let’s get Fortune,” he said.

     They began walking toward the barn entrance. Buddy started blowing, snorting, pacing, and began frantically kicking at his stall door. The other horses followed his behavior in rapid succession. They looked at each other and then back at the horses.There was a loud crash from Big Will’s stall as Brooks threw herself against the stall wall and yelled loudly. Fortune returned a terrifying scream at the barn entrance. Something was terribly wrong.        

     Will was the first to react. He raced toward the entrance at a dead run, with Tom then Katie at his heels. They reached the front entrance almost simultaneously. Their nostrils were assaulted by a thick acrid burning smell; they instantly looked southwest to see the sun slowly blotted out by a huge wall of orange flames licking at the treetops. They were jumping, and racing, almost gleefully, from tree to tree, sage brush to pinyon pine, to dry brittle scrub oak and alpine grasses. The sky was dark as a large black ominous cloud billowed ever higher.

     “We only have minutes!” Tom yelled as he ran toward the flatbed and gooseneck horse trailer.

     Will looked at Katie quickly and saw the fear and panic in her eyes.

     I’ll have to hold Will or he will be trampled. We both may be anyway,” Will took hold of Katie and yanked her into the barn. 

     They grabbed lead ropes from the stall door and clipped on to the halters of Sage and Little Man. Katie gently held the young foal’s halter and urged him to follow Sage as they hurried toward the barn door and the awaiting horse trailer. Tom waited with the door open.

     “Easy Sage, easy,” Will tried to soothe the older mare.

     She spun in a circle and came dangerously close to pinning the foal against the barn wall. Katie and Little Man scooted quickly around alongside the mare. They followed Will in. 

     Tom closed the door and glanced at the approaching flames, coughing and covering his mouth. Will and Katie reached Sister and Precious. They moved them through the now thick smoke. Will brushed glowing embers off of the horses and they loaded them.

     “Katie, grab Buddy, I’ll get Bo!”

     Bo was in an uproar. He was standing on his hind feet pawing at the stall door. Grabbing the lead rope with his right hand, Will let out two feet of rope with a big knot at the end. He swung it gently at Bo to back him up. The stallion came down on all fours with Will alongside grabbing the leather halter he clipped the lead rope in.

     He busted out of the stall door and almost crashed into Katie and Buddy. They ran toward the trailer and the large orange flames just beyond.

     Tom reached Brook’s stall first and was already slipping Big Will out of his harness. Katie had Brooks clipped in her lead rope and was calming the frantic mother as Will helped Tom. 

     “The only thing I can think of is to bear hug him,” Will said.

     He reached one hand around the foal’s front legs and another around his hindquarters. Lifting the foal up he hugged him tightly to his chest.

     Big Will struggled to get free but couldn’t. He stopped struggling and let out a low growl. Will, with his eyes watering, ran behind Brooks and into the trailer.

     Katie looked at Tom and then to Will. The reality hit. There would be no room in the trailer for Fortune.

     Will set the foal on his wobbly legs and pinned him to his lower body for support. The foal struggled and swayed but with the support of Will was able to stand. He turned to Katie with a pained look.       

     “I’m sorry Kate. There just isn’t room for him, turn him loose, just pull his tack and let him go, at least he’ll have a chance,” Will turned his eyes to the ground avoiding Katie’s questioning stare.

     “I -I can’t Will, it’s a death sentence and I just can’t do it.”

     “Katie, listen to me, you have to, we have to go, we’ve got no choice, let Fortune go and get in the truck with Tom!” Will barked at Katie.

     Katie stepped up in the trailer close to Will; she reached out and touched his arm.

     “I won’t, Will, I’m going to ride Fortune out.”

     “No, No, You won’t be able to ride him, he’ll be wigged out, uncontrollable.” 

     “I’m riding him Will, I love you and I love him, I can’t just turn him loose,” Katie leaned over and kissed Will on his cheek. 

    She turned to leave.

    “Kate- Kate, If you’re going to ride him, put a panic strap on him, take your fingers and lace them into his mane tightly, and give him his head, he won’t listen, let him run at his pace. I love you Kate. Be careful.”

     “I love you Will,” Katie said as she turned towards the frantic horse.

     Tom closed the trailer door and slipped behind the wheel of the truck. The truck and trailer lurched forward and disappeared around the barn.

     Katie moved to Fortune’s side, slid the panic strap around his neck and buckled it. She reached down and tightened his billets. Grabbing the reins, and the panic strap in her left hand she slid her fingers into his mane. Katie swung her leg up and over Fortune’s back and landed into her seat. She slipped her feet into the irons and wheeled around to his left so he couldn’t rear up. Leaning forward across his neck, she whispered into his ear.

     “Run like the wind, Fortune, run!” She gently kicked him up.

     Fortune rounded the barn just in time for Katie to see the flames leap across from the trees onto the roof of the riding arena, the structure immediately burst into a ball of fire. Her gaze went to the lane, bordered by a grey stone wall and ditch all the way to the entry gates. The fire raced along the fence line toward the gate and the truck and trailer. There would be no time for Tom to stop the truck, and wait for the iron gates to swing open. The fire would roll over them before they had a chance to pull through the gates. Her heart raced. To save the horses and the boys she would have to jump three Oxers. She gripped the panic strap and Fortune’s mane tighter. She tapped him lightly with her left heel and the big Hanoverian Quarter Horse Cross turned toward the first jump and tucked his front legs up under him and soared into the air. Katie’s mind reeled; she looked at the flames, the fence, and the horse trailer with her babies and husband in it, and set herself for the jump. Fortune came down his front feet striking the earth hard at a full canter. She lurched forward her left foot slipping out of the iron. Teetering sideways, she barely regained her balance. Katie clung tightly to Fortune’s mane. The cross fence was approaching, and if she did not regain her iron she would be pitched from the horse’s back as he jumped. She used her left foot to kick the iron forward, it swung out, and she slipped her foot alongside Fortune pointing her toe downward. The iron gently bumped her toe as it slipped over it. She regained her seat just in time as Fortune leaped into the air clearing the second Oxer. He hit the ground hard, and Katie lurched forward kept her balance.  

     A large wooden loafing shed erupted into a glowing ball of fire off to Katie’s right. Fortune swerved wildly to the left, almost spilling her to the ground. She adjusted her balance, leaned forward against his sweaty neck and steadied him for the last jump.  She prayed she could pull him up in time to hit the button and open the gate.  She glanced back to the left to see the truck and trailer rounding the final arc of the curve and entering the long straightaway to the gates.

     “This is it; you’ve got to clear the fence and the ditch.”

     Fortune bounded into the air. Katie held tightly onto his mane. Driving her heels down hard in the irons, she set herself firmly into her seat as Fortune landed. He cleared the ditch cleanly but was at a full canter and approaching the gate control rapidly. Katie struggled for control of the reins. The fire roared across the dry grasses toward them. She could see the flatbed and the trailer with its precious cargo speeding down the lane. Katie relied on Fortune’s age and great instincts. He was a good horse and listened intently to his rider’s cues. She pressed down hard in her seat and set her heels down against the irons.

     “Whoa Fortune! Whoa!” Katie said confidently.

     Fortune pulled up immediately at her command. He danced and spun in a circle shying away from the approaching flames. Katie looked closely at the gate control and estimated the distance to it. Fortune was a trained dressage horse. He understood and listened for his cues and commands. She tapped his right flank lightly and cued him to side pass. Just as if he had been in an arena in full dressage regalia he lifted his big head high and stepped sideways right to the gate control. Katie reached down, striking the button. The large iron gates swung open slowly. She held Fortune in place and the truck and trailer sped by with a honk of the horn and a large hoot and hat wave out the window from Tom.

     Katie could hear sirens coming up the gravel road. She looked off in the distance and saw the Glenwood Fire Company arriving. She reached for her panic strap and tuft of Fortune’s mane. She tapped his flanks and urged him on. He responded swiftly and cantered down the lane.

     Katie looked over her shoulder as she made a sharp right turn and started down the mountainside. The winds were whipping up the hillside and pushing the threatening flames up the hill and away from them. She moved Fortune to the side of the road and pulled him up.

     “Your husband and horses are headed down the hill. It’s safe there. We’ve got the fire contained and have set up a rescue station at the corner ranch,” the young fireman said.

     “Thanks, I need to cool him down and give him water. Thanks so much,” Katie replied.

     She turned to Fortune, patted his sweaty neck, and gave him a big hug.

     “You saved us, all of us Fortune, You’re the best horse ever,” Katie said.

     They walked down the road toward the awaiting rescue station.


Tupelo Honey, Van Morrison

 

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