Seriously, I can't believe I am still recapping this vacation. If you are just joining us and you want to read about how I peed my pants on the airplane, took sinful pictures in a church, or had to ride a shuttle bus with a bunch of other weaklings, just click on the links.
Can one of you nature-y people tell me what lives in this hole? It was built into the side of the hill, about 5 feet up from the trail. It was very burrow-like, but the twigs and grass around the entrance looked like something a bird would do.
The day that we drove to Wallace, Idaho to hike on the Pulaski Trail was my favorite vacation day. It had everything: Disaster, death, heroes, and some damn good barbecue.
The Pulaski Trail is a two mile interpretive trail in a narrow ravine that leads to an abandoned mine tunnel. The trail stays close to the prettiest creek I have ever seen, until it climbs steeply up the mountain to a bluff that overlooks the mine tunnel. It's an easy/moderate hike with lots of chances to stop and read the trail signs and catch your breath if you are a weakling.
You can see the trail on the left side of the picture.
Oh, this creek.
We took off our shoes to feel the water. It was FREEZING! Check out our awesomely white legs.
The Pulaski Trail was named for Ed Pulaski, a forest ranger who saved almost all the men in his crew from a fiery death during an infamous forest fire.
Ed Pulaski. Big, tall, strong, good-looking man. Not that I care about stuff like that.
Forest fires that had been burning throughout the dry summer of 1910 turned into raging infernos on August 20 when a hurricane force wind blew in from the west. Pulaski's crew became trapped in the ravine, surrounded by fire on all sides.
All along the trail, you can still see charred trunks of trees from the fire that burned 101 years ago.
Pulaski, who knew every inch of the forest, led his 45 man crew and 2 horses through flames and smoke, alongside the creek which boiled and filled with ash, to the shelter of an abandoned mine tunnel. He stayed at the entrance, trying to block the smoke from entering with a wet horse blanket. Some of the men became hysterical and tried to leave, but he threatened to shoot them with his pistol. One man never made it into the tunnel, and 5 died during the night, but all the rest survived.
The entrance to the mine tunnel.
In the Idaho/Montana area, there were 87 fatalaties, and 78 of them were firefighters.
Everywhere that we hiked or biked we saw references to the 1910 fires. It was a calamitous event that not only changed the environment but changed the mission of the recently created Forest Service. Their primary goal became to prevent forest fires at all cost. This had national consequences, even world-wide consequences, according to some historians. (If you are at all interested in this, check out Stephen J. Pyne, who has written a lot of books about forest fires. I'm reading Year of the Fires: The Story of the Great Fires of 1910 right now.)
I realize this is sort of a curiosity niche of mine and that most of you have either dozed off or long since clicked away, but this shit is fascinating to me.
Pulaski was a modest, hard-working man who never claimed any sort of hero status. He was partially blind for the rest of his life from the fire, and his lungs never regained their health. Oh, and he had to pay all his own medical expenses THANKS UNCLE SAM. He lobbied the federal government for a proper sort of memorial to the firefighters who had perished, but I don't think anything was built during his lifetime.
Later, he invented a special tool that is used to this day by wildland forest fighters all over the world. It is called the pulaski. And so, he still makes himself useful.
The pulaski tool!
After hiking the trail, we ate some awesome bbq in the little town of Wallace, then toured an old silvermine. Don't even get me started on the Sunshine Mine Disaster of 1972!
Lenny. Our tour guide at the Sierra Silver Mine tour.
