Reagan Pufall Photography

Back in October of 2009 I came across a fire. I had just spent a rather long and productive day wandering around the Front Range, ending at Gross Reservoir. As I was returning, coming along Walker Ranch and the western edge of Golden Gate Canyon I see a small fire, maybe 5x10” and a man with black sunglasses and pot belly covered with a black shirt walking around it. Little fires are not uncommon in Colorado, often they are set to burn underbrush to prevent larger problematic fires. There are called prescribed or controlled burns. I had never seen and I presume that this must be the case though I was somewhat baffled by the timing and conditions. It was at the top of sloping valley covered in dry grass and brush interspersed with trees. A good wind was blowing down this valley going east. At the end of the valley was the last little bit of mountains before reaching the grassy plain between Boulder and Denver. It seemed like a particularly bad idea.

So I pulled up camera in hand, cap on head and asked if this was a controlled burn. No he replied! Help me put it out! So out I jumped from my car and again I jump on the burning grass feeling pretty futile as whenever the wind gusted the fire would flare up taller than I am when it struck me to ask a rather important question: Have you called the fire department yet? At this time of course it had spread rather effectively, becoming 30 or so feet wide and heading well down hill. No, he replied explaining he had no cell phone reception there. I found this response somewhat inadequate because not but 50 feet from us was a mailbox at the end of drive to someone’s house. Checking my own phone I found I had reception and called. When I got the responder we both became rather frustrated with each other. I knew exactly where I was, the far end of Golden Gate Canyon and the southern end of Walker Ranch, but she had no idea where that was. Likewise I could be damned if I knew the name of road or even what county I was in but she soon transferred me to parks and rec and it was soon sorted out.

Between the end of the call and when the fire fighters showed up some 15 minutes later I got the majority of photos. Once there they shooed me away until the police showed and told me I could do I as I pleased, but by then the fire was good and gone down the valley and I was keen not to be caught on the wrong side of a flare up so that was that. I still have the hat I wore, but it doesn’t smell like fire anymore, but of the ocean of Maine in which it recently took a swim.