Don't Lose the Dirt

By Travis Dotson
Analyst
Wildland Fire Lessons Learned Center

[This is Travis’s “Ground Truths” column from the 2023 Fall lssue of Two More Chains.]

There is a lot of talk right now about making the wildland fire service more professional. For the feds this seems to include moving away from furlough positions—a move toward a larger year-round workforce.

I know this is progress. But I worry.

Not everyone is after a traditional career. I know and love the seasonal who has intentionally avoided an “appointment”. I deeply value those who have carved out a way to walk the tightrope as a permanent-seasonal, putting in work for a portion of the year in the least professional profession they could find to fund the real adventure in the off-season. All this while still putting a coin or two into a retirement system and having the option of reliable health insurance. Golden.

The fire service is a big bucket. In terms of who does this work, we can be a strange stew with more than a bit of spice. I like spice.

I love the riffraff and the dirtbags. (Not the Saul Goodman type of dirtbag, more the Britney Goris type—meaning those who orient their life around the pursuit of adventure at the expense of typical employment.) I love the eccentric few flying their freak flag. I like the folks who are intentionally avoiding a traditional career arc and cobbling together an existence on the edges of societal norms. This element has long been a part of our demographic and I believe their contribution to our culture is more beneficial than we realize. Don’t forget who Paul Gleason was.

Intense time-limited labor attracts a particular population. Commercial fishing, tree planting, Ski Patrol—these are our sister professions, and we shuffle more than few back and forth amongst our ranks. Whether an individual is passing through on the path to acceptable adulthood or digging in to shun convention and live the dream, the furlough folk hold an essential element of our identity. I also believe they are a critical piece of our legendary ability to do hard things.

I am convinced that some sort of dirtbag magic emerges in times of need, but only when those worthy of its power are present, involved, and empowered.

Maybe it’s not magic. Maybe it’s just a well-honed possibility perspective—a certain view of the world that includes alternatives not noticed by the conventional minded. A “What-If” wonder that allows for crazy creative problem solving in a variety of life-threatening circumstances.

Our dynamic work environment requires we be especially good at producing novel solutions. We are very good at this. I submit that much of that creativity is infused by those avoiding the shackles of year-round employment.

I love change and I love progress.

I also love US—ALL of us.

I love what we can be and what we are capable of. As we march toward the allure of professionalism, I worry about the baby in the bathwater.

Swing on, Tool Swingers.