Welcome to Awe Nice!, where we highlight moments of wonder while working outdoors. My name is Maddy Butcher, I'm the creator and producer of awenice and it's time for another segment that I call, Mini-Awe-Polis, a collection of observations, like hay in my jacket pockets.

If you've been listening to lately, you know that we have dedicated several segments to wildland fire fighting, specifically some moments as told by members of Interagency Hot Shot crews, who are elite wildland fire fighters charged with some of the most risky assignments. I think it would be a safe summation to say that their moments of awe were particularly adrenalin-fueled.

It got me thinking about what awe means. What does it mean for me? What does it mean for my interviewees? What does it mean for you, dear listener?

Roughly, awe for me means a moment in time that's memorable for what I'm seeing and experiencing with all my senses. Often, but not all the time, moments of awe are around something unexpected, something I have never witnessed before. Or, it could something that starts out as totally expected but then takes a brilliant turn which stops me in my tracks.

I have moments of awe that are not adrenalin-y at all. Like seeing Niagara Falls.

I have other moments that are quite adrenalin-y. Like seeing my kids run hellbent towards the Niagara River above the falls.

This might sound absurd, but when you visit the Falls, you can park in a big parking lot and basically walk right up to the river's edge. Nothing's stopping you from walking right in. My memory of seeing the falls will be forever tied to screaming bloody murder as my sons, then four, six, and eight, chased gulls and sprinted towards the current that would horrendously carry them away.

It's true, as research tells us, that high emotions can cement, conflate, and even embellish memories that might otherwise fade away. Just so you know, there is no embellishment here. My rotten kids really did run for the river. And Niagara Falls is impressive. It's loud and you can feel the mist of it on your face from a long ways away.

Anyway, I've been spending some time in southern Arizona. At night, I take the dogs for a walk and do last call the horses. Sometimes I use a headlamp and when I do, I've been catching these little flecks of reflection in the dirt. At first, I thought they were just shiny parts of sand or rock. But they are not. They are the eyes of certain spiders that build burrows and scoot back in them when approached. Pretty cool.

Everything here is prickly, spiny, thorny, and pokey. The dogs and horses have figured it out pretty quickly. Me, less so. Often, plants will have the obvious spines but then also less obvious, frankly impossible-to-see spines that might feel okay at first, when you make the mistake of coming into contact with them, but 10 minutes later you're mumbling and grumbling, shaking your hand and tenderly googling how best to extract prickers you can't even see.

I'm still amazed by how the birds perch and feed on cactus.

I don't live near where there are saguaros. It's too cold. But I like seeing them. Did you know that it takes about 15 years for a saguaro cactus to grow 12 inches? And it takes another 60 or more years for it to grow an arm. Saguaros serve as some pretty cool homes for birds, who have, of course, figured out the prickers.

Awe, Nice! welcomes interviewees. If you have a moment you experienced while working outside and would like to share it, contact us at awenice.com. By the way, Kershaw knives, makers of some of the best pocket knives out there, has stepped up to sponsor Awe, Nice. Check out the Ken Onion line. They're excellent.

Awe, Nice! also welcomes your support. You can find a donate button on our about page.

Music is by my friend, Forrest Van Tuyl.

Keep your eyes, ears, and mind open. Until next time.

Welcome to Awe, Nice! where we highlight moments of wonder while working outdoors.

This week, I'm airing another moment recounted by Steve Nicholson, a division supervisor on the Stoner Mesa fire, here in southwestern Colorado.

Steve was able to get away from fire work for a while and was spending time back home in Montana. It was a hot fall, with temperatures approaching 90, and the woods, he said, were really loud because everything was dry and crackly as you moved through. Steve was archery hunting and it made things challenging.

Often it's difficult to squeeze Awe, Nice recollections into segments that are under 10 minutes. It's like stuffing a sleeping bag into a stuff sack. So much good stuff. In this case, what I had to edit, was that Steve spent many more days hunting to no avail. He told me he often hikes 10 to 12 miles over a day, with vertical climbs as much as 2,000 feet. That's some serious dedication and enthusiasm, and as many hunters have told me, it's not all about what you end up putting in the freezer.

Awe, Nice! welcomes interviewees. If you have a moment you experienced while working outside and would like to share it, contact us here.

Our music is by my friend, Forrest Van Tuyl. You can find a link and a donate button here.

Keep your eyes, ears, and mind open. Until next time.

Welcome to Awe, Nice! where we highlight moments of wonder while working outdoors.

This week, we have another interview with a wildland fire fighter. I met Jamie Carpenter on the Stoner Mesa fire this summer.

Jamie was on the Cal-Wood fire five years ago, during another history-making fire season, this time complicated by the pandemic. Ten million acres burned across the western US. Thousands of homes were lost and dozens of people died. The Cal-Wood fire was towards the end of a vveerry long season. It was relatively small, eventually contained at about 10,000 acres, but it was right in Boulder County. So, that's pretty scary. Also, it was going on when two of the biggest fires in Colorado history were raging. The Cameron Peak fire and the East Troublesome fire, both burned about 200,000 acres. That's over 600 square miles.

Jamie told me that typical days start with a 5:30 wake up, with breakfast and then meetings where they review the day's game plan, in which weather, fire behavior, and safety aspects are discussed. For planning, they use the PACE acronym which stands Primary, Alternate, Contingency, and Emergency. You'll hear it reference in Jamie's account.

As I witnessed at the Stoner fire, sometimes the terrain is just too gnarly to directly engage the fire. So, as you'll hear, Jamie and the crew were conducting a firing, burning a limited number of acres in order to create a perimeter, to contain the approaching blaze.

I asked Jamie how he got into wildland fire fighting and he said initially it was a good way to work outside and then have time off in the winter to ski. But then he added some thoughts.

Awe, Nice! welcomes interviewees. If you have a moment you experienced while working outside and would like to share it, contact us here.

Our music is by my friend, Forrest Van Tuyl. You can find a link and a donate button here.

Keep your eyes, ears, and mind open. Until next time.

Welcome to Awe, Nice! where we highlight moments of wonder while working outdoors.

This week, we return to a moment recalled by Doug Falconi. It's part of a bigger focus on recollections from wildland fire fighters.

In the first segment, Doug describes a moment as part of the Bitterroot Hotshot crew, on the Ash Creek Fire in 2012. On the day they arrived, it literally blew up. Each day, he said, it burned 40,000 acres. Temps were in the 90's. Winds gusted over 30 miles per hour and the relative humidity was low.

When we pick up here, the fire is converging, burning up three draw to a saddle where several dozen men are, with vehicles – trucks, engines, and, luckily, a bulldozer. But first, here's Doug, talking about what it means to him to be a wildland fire fighter and what he's observed from his peers.

Ultimately, the Ash Creek fire killed hundreds of cattle and destroyed many homes along with vital timber and grazing acreage.

The next year, in 2013, 19 hotshots died after having deployed fire shelters in the Yarnell Hill Fire in Arizona.

Doug told me that for many career wildland fire fighters, this was the most extreme, intense fire behavior they had ever experienced. It caused them to reevaluate their strategies. That was something we saw on Stoner, when it was simply too dangerous to directly engage the fire. People would have died, Doug said.

Riding up there for days and months, I could understand: the country climbs from 8500 to 11000 feet over just a few miles and it is thick with trees, not just living trees, but lots of dead and down.

Awe, Nice! welcomes interviewees. If you have a moment you experienced while working outside and would like to share it, contact us here.

Our music is by my friend, Forrest Van Tuyl. You can find a link and a donate button here.

Keep your eyes, ears, and mind open. Until next time.

Welcome to Awe, Nice! where we highlight moments of wonder while working outdoors.

I've been turning my attention to wildland firefighters, several of whom I met this summer on the Stoner Mesa fire, which burned over 10,000 acres north of Dolores. I work as a hand up there on a grazing allotment. One of the people I met was Steve Nicholson.

Here, Steve shares an anecdote from the 2012 fire season, which as listeners may know, was the 3rd worst in US history.

Though he wasn't positive, he thinks it unfolded on the Wenachtee Complex, multiple fires which burned 56,000 acres in central Washington in September of that year.

He was a senior member of a hotshot crew charged, on that day, with cold trailing. Cold trailing is following the black of the edge of the fire, identifying hot areas, literally laying hands on the ground for hot spots, and making sure the cold edge is solid and cannot rekindle. This involves cutting down trees, clearing brush, and lots of digging.

The terrain was precipitous and rugged.

For those unfamiliar with the terminology, a chute is a steep, narrow gully, often between two rocky walls.

Steve is now a division supervisor. He told me it's not uncommon to have close calls on hotshot crews, so after the incident, there weren't any real deep conversations. But, he said, it's not like someone would have walked away with a dislocated shoulder when the rock came down. It would have been a big deal.

Next week, Steve shares an elk-hunting moment, so make sure to tune in.

Awe, Nice! welcomes interviewees. If you have a moment you experienced while working outside and would like to share it, contact us here.

Our music is by my friend, Forrest Van Tuyl. You can find a link and a donate button here.

Keep your eyes, ears, and mind open. Until next time.

Welcome to Awe, Nice! where we highlight moments of wonder while working outdoors.

Sometimes I think I should call this show, Oh, No!

For many, the moments they recall have excitement and wonder, but also scary predicaments.

Over the next few weeks, I'm turning attention to wildland firefighters. This is partly because they deserve attention and partly because I met several this summer on the Stoner Mesa fire, which burned over 10,000 acres north of Dolores. I work cows on one of the Forest Service allotments that was right on Stoner Mesa. For weeks, my boss and I were pretty busy tending to the cows and trying to stay clear of the firefighters.

This week, I interviewed Doug Falconi, who was a division supervisor trainee on the Stoner fire.

He recalls the eastern Montana Ash Creek Fire of 2012.

2012 was an incredibly intense year for wildfires, the third worst in US history. 67,774 wildfires burned over nine million acres. In Montana alone, 1.2 million acres burned. The Ash Creek fire was the sixth largest, burning 250,000 acres.

Doug arrived as part of the only hot shot crew on the fire, when it was just 5,000 acres. As you might imagine, fire fighting resources were being spread thin that summer.

Just a mention of wildland fire vernacular – 'overhead' is the bosses above the crews.

This is the first Awe, Nice! moment that we're splitting into two segments.

Awe, Nice! welcomes interviewees. If you have a moment you experienced while working outside and would like to share it, contact us here.

Our music is by my friend, Forrest Van Tuyl. You can find a link and a donate button here.

Keep your eyes, ears, and mind open. Until next time.

Welcome to Awe Nice, where we highlight moments of wonder while working outdoors.

This week, we return to a conversation with Nina Hance, the backcountry guide from Montana.

Nina and her husband have had several encounters with grizzlies. Once they were mountain biking and were bluff-charged. She estimates the sow, who had cubs with her, was 500 pounds or so. While the incident was short, it had a lasting impact on her psyche, including regular nightmares.

Another time, she and Alex were hunting and were chased off while field dressing a deer.

Because of these events and others, she tends to flinch when she sees big dark objects, what might be a bear, but what might also be a stump or a rock. She's become hyper vigilant and often avoids being in the backcountry at dawn and dusk, especially in the fall when bears go through hyperphagia, seemingly ravenous, in preparation for their winter hibernation.

You'd think that at 10,000 feet, in a bit of a spring blizzard, grizzly bears would be the least of your concerns.

Awe, Nice! welcomes interviewees. If you have a moment you experienced while working outside and would like to share it, contact us at awenice.com.

Our music is by my friend, Forrest Van Tuyl. You can find a link and a donate button on our about page.

Keep your eyes, ears, and mind open. Until next time.

Welcome to Awe Nice, where we highlight moments of wonder while working outdoors.

This week, I talked with Nina Hance. Nina is a backcountry guide certified by the American Mountain Guides Association. In the winter, she works for Beartooth Powder Guides as a lead guide.

Nina shared two events. Her first moment was during a guiding trip outside of Cook City. Cook City (population about 70) is near the entrance to Yellowstone National Park and not far from the Wyoming border. She takes us to Woody Creek Cabin, a 20 x 24 foot, single room cabin which served as the group's base camp.

Awe, Nice! welcomes interviewees. If you have a moment you experienced while working outside and would like to share it, contact us at awenice.com.

Our music is by my friend, Forrest Van Tuyl. You can find a link and a donate button on our about page.

Keep your eyes, ears, and mind open. Until next time.