Every time I see coverage of wildfires near me (any state really) my heart and mind is pulled back to 2017 and the Starbuck fire. Part of the Scott farm in Clark County, Kansas and many other operations in the county were scorched that day.
According to the Kansas Forest Service, the 2017 Starbuck wildfire in Clark, Comanche, and Meade counties burned about 500,000 acres and caused losses of over $50 million in livestock, fencing, and economic impact. It was the largest wildfire in Kansas history, and killed one person and at least 4,000 cattle. Officials say it destroyed 26 homes and 3,700 miles of fence. State and county officials estimated the fire cost at least $700,000 to suppress, although some counties may not have reported their suppression costs.
When March 14 rolled around this year, and winds outside my home sailed anywhere from 60 to 80 mph, I was riddled with anxiety. The day of the Starbuck fire the winds blew just as hard, and temps were near 80 degrees. Plus, it was the day of my Dad’s funeral. I’ve written about it before, so I don’t want to rehash my thoughts from that day but instead bring light to what can be done to help prevent fires.
This year, weather officials were calling March 14 a day with historic wildfire threats. When a fire near Stillwater, Oklahoma erupted, it perked my ears and made me pay attention. I spent two years going to Oklahoma State and graduated from there in 2002. Although the area has changed so much since I was a student, it’s still one of those places I consider home.
The morning after I was looking at photos people were sharing of the destruction of the neighborhoods southwest of town and at Lake Carl Blackwell. A post by Adam Ray caught my attention, not just because of the photos, but because of his words.
“Fire is an excellent servant but a terrible master. I have heard from some of my mentors over the years that one day, southwest Stillwater will experience a wildfire that causes widespread catastrophic damage to people’s personal property (homes, outbuildings, etc.) due to an ignition on a day with historic fire weather, coupled with the excessive amounts of volatile fuel (i.e. cedars) present in these areas southwest of our town. They warned people of the potential for this event over 25 years ago. I called one of them Friday afternoon and said, ‘well, I think what you predicted 25 years ago is happening right now,’” Ray wrote on his Facebook page.
Ray later went on to describe his own father watching their neighborhood burn as he was evacuating. He said the area around their home was “cedar forests” which he believes should not exist within city limits and border subdivisions on three sides.
“We shouldn’t have to put up with our neighbors allowing their land to grow up in cedar trees, it inadvertently increases the level of management it takes to keep cedar trees off of our lands were trying to manage, as well as tolerate the potential fire risk it creates to all adjoining property owners,” he wrote. “Additionally, firefighters shouldn’t have to face the risk of fighting fire in areas encroached by cedars. It is difficult and dangerous.”
I couldn’t agree more. While the area around Stillwater is much different than my western Kansas terrain, it all boils down to management. We don’t like the red cedar trees either. We don’t want excess forage build up in areas that have power lines, people or roads. It’s just a recipe for disaster.
Ray said there was a prescribed fire conducted three weeks ago around the Karsten Creek area. Another prescribed fire by a local farmer in early March kept that area on the north side of highway 51 near Range Road from progressing north and endangering another neighborhood. He believes these two instances helped slow the fire’s reach. Fire has its purpose, even though humans don’t like the outcomes in times like this.
“The fire behavior we experienced on Friday was supported by an extreme weather phenomenon,” Ray wrote. “Fire does not simply behave that way every time we drop a match to conduct a prescribed fire. Prescribed fires behave completely different from wildfire due to the drastically different weather conditions we limit ourselves to burn under. We are in control of when we burn and the conditions we choose to burn with, which means we are in control of our fire.”
Ray believes the fire on March 14 near Stillwater was “a different animal” because of the weather that day. Ignition of any kind on that day happened because of it.
“A wise man once told me to never fear fire, but learn about it and respect it,” Ray wrote. “I will burn again when the weather is right. We will remove fuel, create defensible space, create resilient landscapes, and make the world a better place. All the while, we will own our actions, take care of our business, and respect the heck out of fire and what it can do.”
Again, I have to agree with him. We have to take care of our land and make it resilient. Not everyone has the same sort of beliefs and passions of those like Ray and others, but in the end it’s up to landowners to protect what’s theirs. Ray suggested a couple things at the end of his post.
“Support prescribed burners, tell your neighbors to cut their cedar trees, create defensible space around your homes, promote community wildfire resilience programs, and NEVER passively allow fire to be the master over you and your community,” he wrote.
In the 8 years since the Starbuck fire, I too have learned some things about grazing management and protecting the farm or ranch from wildfire. My to-do list is a mile long since I’m a procrastinator, but at least I’m aware.
Are you more aware of wildfires now than you may have been 10, 20 or even 30 years ago? What do you do to protect your farm or ranch?
