How We Roll

Here is more from our forthcoming 2018 Incident Review Summary.

By Travis Dotson

In 2018 we collected 17 reported Rollover Incidents. Mostly Water Tenders and Dozers (5 each). The others were chase vehicles, an Engine, a UTV and an ATV.

Almost all of the rollovers involved slipping off the road shoulder.

We move big heavy things around on dirt roads under difficult conditions while stressed and tired.

We sometimes slip off the road.


Got a Dozer or a Water Tender in your Task Force?

Heads up.


Here are a few clips from reports:

“…he began to feel the back of the Tender pulling him sideways as the Tender began to slide off the road.” Cougar Creek Fire Water Tender Accident

“…dozer slipped off the edge of a logging road and tumbled down end-over-end…” Sugar Pine Fire Dozer Rollover

“…passenger side front wheel traveled off the edge of the road, and the engine departed the roadway, and rolled.” Fawn Fire Engine Rollover

“There were three slip locations, spread over several hundred feet, where Dozer 1 left the trail prior to the rollover.” Ferguson Dozer Fatality

“…it left the road on the downhill side and rolled over.” Miles Fire Water Tender Rollover

“…he became distracted and the truck drove straight off the road.” Ferguson Fire Water Tender Rollover

This is from the 2016 Incident Review Summary:



Exercise (30 minutes)

Study the quotes above.

Individually write down your answer to this question:

What are all the reasons you can think of why we might “slip off the road”?

Compare your list with others.

Discuss ways to prepare for and prevent rollovers.





Tree Trauma

By Travis Dotson

“Hit by Tree” events are a difficult topic. We have had a series of tragedies in recent years. We’ve endured eight fatalities in the last four years.

We’ve had one hotshot die in “Hit by Tree” incidents each summer for the past three years.

Each instance is heartbreaking. These events are sometimes difficult to process because there is often a feeling of inevitability around the issue of wildland firefighters being struck by trees.

How do we make these events matter?


Eight “Hit by Tree” Fatalities in four years.

Not every time a firefighter gets hit by a tree results in death. In 2018 we received reports of 16 non-fatal incidents. Each instance is terrifying.

How do we make these events matter?


“The butt end of the tree hit the faller as it jumped backwards off the stump and swung uphill almost 25 feet.”
Taylor Creek RLS



San Antonio Fire FLA

From the FLA:

The limb struck Joel on the left side of the hard hat at an “angle smearing the hard hat off his head.” The branch also hit Memo hard on the back, knocking him to the ground.

The story here is a description of several hotshot crews engaged in direct attack on a fire in extreme terrain with numerous snags, and steep slopes with rocks rolling down the hill like a bowling alley.

Why were they exposed to such risk? Why were they even there? What happened? Did someone mess up cutting a tree? Did someone walk under a bucket drop? Did they lose situational awareness?

What do we learn when there is no glaring mistake made?
No “Human Error” that caused the accident?

After a thorough review of this incident, the FLA team has come to a potentially confounding conclusion: That in the case of the San Antonio Fire accident, Line Officers, IMT members and on the ground firefighters did just about everything right.

But wait, firefighters got hurt really bad…WHY?

During a chainsaw training session, a Fire Captain who is an Advanced Faller (C-Faller) Cadre Member was struck by a grounded tree limb that was under tension. The Fire Captain remained unconscious with agonal respirations as they completed an assessment of his injuries. The Fire Captain suffered significant injuries to his head, neck and chest that required hospitalization.

Exercise (30 minutes)

Study the events above.

Identify what has the most meaning for you.

Write down a few notes on WHY your selection has meaning.

Compare your answers with others.

Discuss these Questions:

What makes an event have meaning for us individually?

What makes an event NOT have meaning?

Chainsaws and Drip Torches

We are working on the 2018 Annual Incident Review Summary.  As we compile the summary we’ve got some highlights to share with you.  Read this.  Do the Exercise. (Maybe include it in your Refresher Training.)  Give us feedback.  The final version of the 2018 Annual Incident Review Summary will be out soon!

By Travis Dotson

The list of things we get hurt doing is pretty much just a list of things we do. So, is what we do dangerous? Or is what we do safe and it’s the way some people do it that brings on the danger?

OR is black and white, all or nothing, either/or, no middle ground thinking ridiculous and especially problematic on the fireground?

In 2018 we collected 16 different reports of incidents related to Chainsaw Operations.

Is that:

  • Proof of the numerous poorly trained operators out there?


  • Flat out amazing that the number is so low given the amount of time we spend running saws?

Didn’t we just talk about false dichotomies?

At least we get to choose the perspective we take.

So here are some numbers, lessons, and an exercise.

Make them mean something.



2018: Out of 16 “Chainsaw Ops” incidents, 10 were “Hit by Tree” and 6 were “Saw Cuts”



“The poison oak vine grabbed the chain and pulled the cut tree down into the chainsaw bar, pushing the bar into the sawyer’s leg about four inches below the left knee. The saw’s teeth grabbed the sawyer’s saw chaps and rolled them from the outside inward.”

Taylor Creek Chainsaw Cut


“During the burnout operations, a sudden wind shift and explosive fire growth happened and at about 1733, personnel were cut off from their escape routes. Most of the firefighters were able to move back to their vehicles to exit the area. However, six individuals farther down the dozer line were forced to run in front of the advancing flame front, through unburned fuels to a nearby dirt road for approximately one mile…”

Mendocino Complex – Ranch Fire Burn Injuries and Vehicle Damage


“I hurdled over the fence, the tool in my pack caught the fence, I fell face down.”
Camp Fire Entrapment Burn Injuries


While conducting firing operations a hand-throw firing device ignited in a pouch on the firefighter’s web gear.
Edison RX Firing Device Incident


Write down your answer to these two questions:

1. What makes chainsaws dangerous?

2. What does “Playing with Fire” mean to you?

Discuss your answers with the next firefighter you see (hopefully you know them).

When You Have to Run

By Travis Dotson

You should read this one. It’s straight up scary.

Screen Shot 2018-07-10 at 9.26.28 AM

We’ve talked about this before, how normal ops can get sketchy in a second.

Here it is. Real-deal run for your life type stuff.

First fire of the season. First shift.

Just scouting a road. Just serving as Lookout.

Normal ops.

Watch this:

Read the report to get the full details.

Read the section on lessons – discuss the questions posed.

Get full report here:

Engrained into My Thoughts and Actions

Redding IHC Crewmember – 2016

The South Canyon Staff Ride was without a doubt one of the most influential experiences of my wildland fire career. It is one thing to sit in a classroom and learn about a tragedy fire from PowerPoints and write-ups. However, talking to the individuals involved, putting yourself in their shoes, and walking on the same ground they walked on, provides for a completely different level of involvement. The South Canyon Staff Ride engrained me with lessons that I will have for the rest of my life.

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Many people can read the book “Fire on the Mountain” and look at what happened on those days and say things like: “This could have been done different,” or “Why didn’t they (those involved) do this instead of that?” But, until someone actually gets up on the hill, works through facilitated scenarios with people of varying backgrounds, and hears what firsthand survivors saw and felt, they will not be able to fully grasp exactly what happened.

This is what makes the South Canyon Staff Ride so amazing and why it is one of the (if not the most) standout lessons of my fire career. Being able to hear the things the survivors have to say will stay with me forever.

As part of Redding Interagency Hotshots, I went through and did the preliminary staff ride work of reading “Fire on the Mountain”, the South Canyon Investigation Report, and the South Canyon Fire Behavior Assessment. We also prepared small briefs, which we (both as a crew and individually) presented to over 80 people. I first read “Fire on the Mountain” during my first year of fire back in 2008. I have gained a fair amount of fire experience and knowledge since that time. Reading “Fire on the Mountain” a second time brought about an entirely new meaning to me and how I look at and how I operate in the fire environment.

We also had the integration portion of the staff ride in which we were able to go around the room and hear over 80 different take-a-ways from more than 80 different people. It didn’t matter if someone was in their second year of fire or have been fighting fire for 30-plus years, every person had a varied take-a-way. Being able to share these points-of-view with each other was invaluable.

By far the most standout aspect of the South Canyon Staff Ride is being able to listen to the survivors of the South Canyon Fire. Being able to put myself in their shoes and hear exactly what was going through their heads is something that will be engrained into my thoughts and actions for the rest of my career in fire. All in all, I feel that any firefighter who has the chance to participate in the South Canyon Staff Ride will without a doubt benefit personally and professionally.


The Beating Heart Within Us

Redding IHC Crewmember – 2016

Being a Redding Hotshot is an incredible training opportunity. That is the priority reason that I endeavored to become one. I am now into July of the 2016 fire season. I have performed training now as a firing boss (t) and as a crew boss (t). I have received a multitude of classes that otherwise would have placed me firmly in the lower half of a wait list on my home unit.

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Of all the training and all the experiences that I will take with me from this season on the Redding Hotshots, I believe that participation in the South Canyon Staff Ride is the most valuable and precious. Earlier in the training season, we also attended the Rattlesnake Fire Staff Ride; it was a very good precursor to South Canyon.

As is necessary for all staff rides, preliminary study was undertaken to best understand the facts and sequence of events. Unlike South Canyon, however, the Rattlesnake Staff Ride takes place over a single day. In that single day we walked the ground, discussed decisions and actions that occurred, and performed tactical decision games.

The final element of all staff rides is the integration. This is where you coalesce all that you have learned and distill it all into a “take away” message. For the Rattlesnake Staff Ride I distilled a message derived from the results of the tactical decision games. This message was that when a sudden change is observed and a call to action is obvious, it is appropriate, prudent, and necessary to take the time to engage your mind, and others, before you engage physically. It is also at this time that you can go to the crosses and make peace with the memories of those who have passed away, and the terrible fate that has become your lesson. I certainly remember the 15 fallen firefighters who perished in 1953. To the extent that is possible, as an emotional being, I reached back into that time and tried to be there with them. It is not easy.

The South Canyon Staff Ride transpired over three highly organized and orchestrated days. On the evening of arrival we convened in a room where time was conscientiously allotted to allow the participants, group leaders, and Subject Matter Experts (SMEs) to create an abbreviated cohesion. This was invaluable as, unlike anything I had ever experienced, the SMEs were survivors of the tragedy.

1994 is still recent history to today’s wildland firefighter. Those living breathing people in that room and eventually on that same mountain with us, where 14 brothers and sisters died, were actually there. It was astounding. They wore the same PPE, carried similar fire shelters, and used the same radios, helicopters, hand tools, and chainsaws that we carry today. They used the same procedural approaches, Incident Command Structure, and safety protocols that we use. They were real and they felt real. There were questions. Everyone had questions and there were answers. I heard some of the most visceral and vulnerable answers to tough questions that will ever be heard.

My mind was awash with the events of July 6, 1994. A connection was established and reinforced in a way that cannot be replicated by anything less than the full force of what that program is. At the end of the field day we regrouped in a dining hall were the integration of the experience occurred. The range of experience levels in that room was all the way from entry-level firefighters to seasoned fire managers. And everyone had a novel and insightful contribution to the integration ceremony. Normally, one would not use the word “ceremony” with staff rides. But this was more than a staff ride.

I distilled the experience into this message: That a lesson cannot be truly assimilated into the core of one’s being so as to influence thoughts and actions unless there are strong emotional underpinnings. In the future it would be smart of us to try and behave, teach, and listen to the best of our abilities with attention paid to the beating heart that we each have within us. Make an emotional and intellectual connection to the messages you want to matter.


This Has Been Me Before

Redding IHC Crewmember – 2013

Participating in the Redding IHC South Canyon Staff Ride was a definitive moment of my career both in fire and with the U.S. Forest Service. In spite of all that has changed after the South Canyon Fire and over the past two decades, firefighter fatalities continue to occur every year. Firefighting is still an inherently dangerous job with many unpredictable and unforeseen hazards that sometimes result in tragedy.

We strive to see everything and anticipate all possible disasters but to say that we can foresee and mitigate every single pitfall we encounter on a daily basis is to believe that we can predict and control the future.

Redding 5

In this dynamic and dangerous environment, my best defense against disaster is knowledge—knowledge of myself, my crew, and the environment around me as I build and constantly reevaluate my situational awareness. A great deal of the training to recognize situations, develop self-awareness and knowledge that we use from the first day we take Basic 32 came from the South Canyon Fire and studying human factors that played a role for every firefighter on Storm King Mountain on July 6, 1994.

While we may gain intelligence about fire behavior and modeling or advances in technology to aid our efforts in the future people are still people, imperfect and capable of mistakes, and many lessons learned from the South Canyon Fire are timeless.

If I fail to learn from the lessons fought and paid for by those before me then I am destined to repeat their fate. I will never forget after walking that mountain that it can so easily be me when I’m tired or stressed that misses important information or just a seemingly small detail that may turn out to be a crucial misstep later when time is compressed and decisions must be made quickly.

As we walked the West Flank Fireline with Eric Hipke he recalled that many firefighters had serious misgivings about constructing that line. Walking the line back from Lunch Spot Ridge toward Zero Point, I thought—as I had many times that day—“This could have been me. This has been me before.”

As we hiked, my crewmates and I discussed how many times we have been on fires like this and been nervous, had that gut feeling or hair rising on the back of the neck, and we just put our heads down and kept digging. Or we voiced our opinion which was ignored, or mocked as weakness and fear. So we put our heads down and dug or laid hose.

As we approached the last stretch of line on the staff ride, an incredibly steep pitch dotted with clusters of crosses, Hipke stops to point out a spot he remembers and give us more context of what happened as he hiked up that last stretch with the fire on his heels. He talks again of the gut feelings people had expressed earlier that day and pauses, recalling that Roger Roth was standing almost exactly where his cross stands and said earlier that day that this line wasn’t safe and they shouldn’t be there.

I will never again ignore my gut, put my head down and dig. Intuition is often the recognition of what I can’t quite put my finger on logically but somehow innately know is true. I will always listen to that feeling in the future. As a leader, I will also strive to foster an environment for others to express their misgivings and opinions as they may see something I have missed.

I have also learned during the Redding Hotshot training season that sometimes the simplest things are the most impossible to achieve, while those that seem the most impossible are actually the easiest goals to accomplish.

The South Canyon Fire, a seemingly small fire in plain sight of a neighborhood where homeowners constantly wanted action taken, was actually a complicated situation. The fire was challenging to access through the East Drainage, in terrain difficult even for smokejumpers to jump, and the apparently straight-forward task of cutting line on the West Flank was fraught with difficulty and struggle with rugged terrain, complex topography, and heavy fuels.

This situation was another lesson for me that walking away from a strategy becomes infinitely more difficult with every hour of work and every drop of sweat we invest in a piece of ground. I must always be willing to take a step back, look at the big picture objectively and reevaluate tactics and strategies. If a plan is no longer viable because of changing conditions or simply isn’t working, sometimes the best thing to do is walk away and make a bigger box. As Don Mackey said the morning of July 6, 1994: “No piece of line is worth dying for.”

On the first night that engines scouted to find access to the fire, someone shined a headlamp up the West Drainage and decided it was impossible to hike. Brian Scholz, Captain for the Prineville Hotshots in 1994 and gracious enough to recount the experience for us on the staff ride, had even asked if he could take half the crew waiting to be flown to the fire and hike up the West Drainage. But he was told that route was impassable.

Our second day hiking into Storm King, we followed a trail up the West Drainage that took less than half an hour at an easy pace. This path even seemed much safer to me than traveling up the East Drainage, which took hours for the local crews hiking into the fire. The seemingly impossible was actually the simplest answer. Even a small detail such as how we arrive at a fire can shape our perception and tactics.

The resources for the South Canyon Fire all arrived at the top of the fire whether they had hiked, jumped or been flown in and their plan was thus to cut downhill and underslung line to get around the fire. This is a lesson for me in the future to consider all options and again be willing to change tactics when considering the big picture, as well as to find out if something is really impossible or simply hasn’t been done before.

Our last morning in Colorado was filled with the hustle and bustle of 20 people coordinating for a single purpose. Check-out of rooms, get the buggies ready, and be ON TIME so we can leave. We loaded up, hoping for a call on our drive home to our dream assignment out of region somewhere exotic like New Mexico. Not long after leaving we took an unexpected exit and the quiet buggy was suddenly full of whispered speculation. We unloaded at a park with a dedicated memorial for the firefighters who lost their lives on the South Canyon Fire.

After weeks of planning and days of driving and intense training on Storm King Mountain, taking the time to stop and look at the faces and read the biographies of each life lost was one of the most poignant moments of this experience. Each person on those plaques reminded me of a fellow firefighter. They were a lot like my fellow crewmembers—athletic, some with a passion for firefighting and the Forest Service, all with a strong love for the outdoors and genuinely good people, men and women that I would like to have met.

After studying them and talking about them for weeks I feel like they are old friends who I haven’t seen in a while, people that had potential to be the future leaders and trainers of my generation and though they are gone, they continue to lead through training like this staff ride.

I have learned so much and been heavily impacted by what they went through on that July day. For me, safety means that we firefighters are the highest values at risk—these names and faces—every time we head to a fire.

On our last night as a large group each participant at the staff ride shared one thing that they had learned and taken away from this experience. One comment that a few people repeated stuck with me: Know your stuff, be the best at your job, and above all take care of your people because those are real lives and my son or daughter might be on the crew that you are leading.

I will never forget the lessons learned from participating in the South Canyon Staff Ride. They will continue to influence my development as a leader and a person for the rest of my life. Thank you for the time, effort, and support that you have contributed to make this invaluable experience possible.



An Overwhelming Emotional and Sobering Experience

Redding IHC Crewmember – 2015

Participating in the 2015 South Canyon Staff Ride was a truly rewarding opportunity and one that I am grateful to have been given. The lessons that I learned will carry further into my life, both professionally and personally.

Redding 6

This staff ride really was unique in that the SMEs were people who had actually been a part of the original event. They come back year-after-year to share their stories, living history right from their mouths. All of the conference group leaders and support staff go the extra mile to help facilitate the best learning environment possible. The pre-study materials and the integration night were both valuable components that really make the most out of the event. I cannot imagine a more in-depth approach to learning than I experienced on this staff ride.

Participating in facilitated tactical decision games allowed for me to really see the scenario unfold and how my decision process would progress. Communicating with the people in your group and working through problems, mitigating them in real time, utilizing tools like LCES and the IRPG was a valuable hands-on approach.

As I sat at the tree that marks the top of the West Flank Fireline I asked myself: “What more could I do to prepare myself for this situation? Physically, did I train hard enough to give myself the best chance of escape? Mentally, do I challenge myself to think about complex and evolving incidents? Emotionally, how do I handle stress and fatigue? What could I do to become more resilient to these factors of decision making?”

As a crewmember of the Redding IHC, I was assigned extra study into the movements of the various smokejumpers assigned to the South Canyon Fire. Giving extra focus to one particular group really allowed me to explore another perspective. I also had the opportunity to present a briefing to the entire participant group at the “Lunch Spot” which focused on what the smokejumpers were doing during a set timeframe. I chose to focus on the human factors that I could draw out from the pre-study materials, because I felt like they often get overlooked as we analyze the tactical decisions made on fires.

Moving across such a historical piece of ground was at times overwhelmingly emotional and brought further into perspective the need to make sound and timely decisions. Putting my boots in the footprints of wildland fire history was a sobering experience. Looking at the crosses on the hill reminds me to be thankful for all we have learned from the sacrifices of those who came before us. We operate in a high-risk environment frequently to protect people, property and natural resources. It is not simply a job but a way of life and I take pride in my contributions.

I benefitted greatly from participating in this staff ride and am appreciative for all of the people that believe enough in the future fire leaders to make it possible.

I Made a Key Flaw

Redding IHC Crewmember – 2017

In May I was honored to be allowed to go and participate in the staff ride with the Redding IHC for the South Canyon incident. After reading the books and all of the incident reports over numerous years I thought I would have an extensive grasp on the events and the strategies that took place on this incident. But, in fact, as I would soon come to find out, I was full of misinformation that I had derived from my readings. By this I mean that I thought the mountain was going to be steep and rough country due to the limited access and how thick the vegetation was. That couldn’t have been further from the truth.

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 As I stood at the overlook spot looking out across the drainage toward the fatality site and then over toward the lunch spot I noticed what appeared to be a hill. It wasn’t a huge steep drainage with a giant mountain rising up and out of it. This sight made me stop and realize that all of my beliefs were in fact completely wrong. The biggest eye-opener for me was not the timeline or even the people involved, it was the geography.

 The lessons that I learned in May through this staff ride I am going to carry with me through my career. I learned to ground truth the fire and its access points. Like how the south drainage was supposed to be impassable but yet the day after the staff ride we went and walked up it from the highway with no problem. I also learned that they fought this fire the same way that I would have being that my career is in aviation. I would have started from the top and worked down just as Don Mackey and all of the others had done.

The best thing about this staff ride was actually getting to meet the survivors and learn with a hands-on walk through the events—from blowup to escape. It was a real informal and key learning strategy in that I was getting to hear firsthand from Eric Hipke and what he was seeing, what they were doing during their escape, and what was going through his mind.

I was shocked when I found out that there was no sense of urgency until they were near the top. It was amazing that they were only walking, they never ditched their packs, they never ran, and they never pulled out there shelters at the beginning. They just had a sense of bumping out. We are taught now in fire to ditch our gear, pull our shelters and run.

Well, it gets so chaotic that when we did the run from their beginning hike-out point I still took off running with my pack on. Then Tyler Harris yelled “drop your packs” four different times. It wasn’t until the fourth time of hearing him that it finally sank in to drop my gear. As I threw my pack I instantly took off.

It wasn’t until the top when I was hacking and coughing trying to catch my breath with my lungs burning that I realized I had made a key flaw. In my haste and the chaos of the moment I threw my pack but did not take my shelter with me. I’m going to remember this throughout my career. If I ever have to drop my pack I will grab my shelter because if it can be this chaotic during an exercise how chaotic is it going to be in a live scenario?

This all prompts me to ask the question: “When is the right time to ditch your gear, and to take off sprinting for your life?” This is something that is going to be answered on an individual basis based on your own PT, body type, and experience level.

The final Q and A while sitting on the top of the hill allowed for both Redding IHC and Horseshoe IHC to ask about situations going through our minds as well getting firsthand feedback and direct answers to our questions from the individuals who experienced it. It was a moment of tranquility and relaxation as both crews were learning from the answers and feedback from Eric Hipke, Bryan Scholz, and Kip Gray.

The staff ride was a huge success, an eye opener, an amazing opportunity to participate in, and a life event that I will hold on to and never forget. The lessons that I learned and the information gathered, I’m going to carry throughout my career and use them in everyday real-life situations.

I would like to thank the key personal who put in countless hours year after year for putting this on and improving it each year. I always wanted to go on this staff ride and now that I have it is safe to say it surpassed all of my expectations and will allow me to be a better firefighter, co-worker, leader, and human being.

Be the One

Redding IHC Crewmember – 2016

The South Canyon Staff Ride is one of the most valuable experiences of the Redding IHC program. This staff ride provides a powerful and meaningful way to learn from the tragedy of Storm King Mountain.

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Another advantage of this event is the diversity of participants, ranging from first year forestry technicians to regional office and national office fire and aviation managers. The lessons learned and emotions felt on Storm King Mountain make this staff ride worthwhile and extremely useful in the development of high-quality forestry technicians and leadership.

Redding IHC concludes their intensive six-week training program with the South Canyon Staff Ride. After reading the South Canyon Investigative Report and “Fire on the Mountain” by John Maclean, Redding crewmembers speak and help facilitate at the various stands throughout the staff ride.

In addition to short speeches at the stands, participants engage in many tactical decision games. Tactical decision games encourage participants to engage in thought-provoking group conversations. Participants experience and learn from the actual fire environment, topography, and human factors of the tragedy on Storm King.

In addition to these facilitated conversations, Redding crewmembers perform the actual “1,880-foot run” that claimed the lives of so many on July 6, 1994. Crewmembers exhaustedly run past the stone crosses of the fallen with fire shelters in their hands, hoping to be as fast as Eric Hipke was on that fateful day.

Eric Hipke is a wealth of knowledge. Learning directly from him is a real privilege. Learning from his experiences and emotions really opens the eyes of forestry technicians and places all of the material into a meaningful, emotional context. As a wise person stated at the integration dinner, “Emotion is the glue that connects experience to memory.” All of the Subject Matter Experts are pivotal to a successful learning experience on Storm King Mountain.

The varying experience levels of participants also fosters a broader learning opportunity. First year forestry technicians have significantly different points of view compared to those of national office fire and aviation managers. Bringing all of these leadership elements together into one facilitated group allows the participants to share their backgrounds and experiences in a meaningful way, learning from those that have fallen in the line of duty. “It’s all about the people.”

The integration dinner gives everyone an opportunity to share one or two things that they learned from the South Canyon Staff Ride. People of all ranks shared some powerful lessons and messages, including: “Practice without consequences.” “Expectations drive preparations.” “You can’t eliminate risk, just trade it. Be sure to trade up.” “Emotion is not weakness.” “Be the one.”

The Redding IHC 2016 South Canyon Staff Ride was an incredible learning experience. I would encourage all forestry technicians to attend in the future. Everyone can and should learn something from those who fell on Storm King Mountain.