Photo courtesy Sean Harris

Across the nation, scores of students get to play with fire for a summer job. Their workplace is backcountry nature and their lunch break can last most of the season. Although some may say the labor is arduous, those who stay in the career will insist it’s well worth it.

Oregon Woods Inc. is a local contractor for various wilderness landowners and government agencies, specializing in restoration, forestry, and fire. The company enlists physically fit, dedicated young people willing to respond to environmental emergencies.

A good portion of the typical summer firefighter’s schedule is spent waiting for a phone call. Oregon Woods goes down a list of potential firefighters and lets those available join the next run—their next opportunity to make money and tame flames. Repeat decliners risk losing their chance, as they are less likely to be called again. Since nature is nearly unpredictable, those determined to participate wait patiently with good reception.

“You never know how much work there’s going to be,” says Stephen Clarke, Oregon Woods’ fire and restoration manager. “Everything in this world is on call.” In order to join Oregon Woods, prospective firefighters must endure a weeklong in-classroom training session, preparing in areas of theoretical scenarios and fire safety. However, the real challenge is passing the “pack test:” a grueling 45 minute hike bearing the weight of upwards of 50 lbs of gear.

Once they’ve passed the test, firefighters are sent off in crews of about twenty, with a crew boss and three squad bosses in each team. In order to keep the trips harmonious, dispatchers often try to maintain consistency within groups.

Because of its rewarding nature—both personally and financially—wildland firefighting appeals to all demographics. Of those who apply, most qualify for the job. But in this field of work, it takes more than just skill, but also patience and preparation, for a chance to face the flames.

Four firefighters tell their stories.

Larry Huseman
Restoration and rejuvenation

When people ask Larry Huseman what he does for a living, he likes to tell them, “I’m saving butterflies.”

It’s not some scheme to get the ladies to swoon—albeit it may work—but rather, Huseman’s latest responsibilities with Oregon Woods Inc. as part of the company’s restoration efforts with the Nature Conservancy in Eugene’s Coburg Hills. Preservation of the oak savanna grasslands has led to the rediscovery of an endangered Fender’s blue butterfly population that was once thought to be near extinction in this area of the Willamette Valley. Huseman and his teammates are currently restoring the Kincaid’s lupine, the rare plant where the butterflies hatch their eggs.

Wildland firefighting with Oregon Woods is more than extinguishing outdoor flames. For those truly dedicated to the career, there are many other opportunities to help defend forests beyond fire suppression. And for Huseman, such activities are merely icing on the cake.

This summer marks Huseman’s fifth year with Oregon Woods. The time spent as a wildland firefighter for the company has had a profound impact on him.

“I can see myself doing this for a lot longer period of time than I thought,” Huseman says.

“It’s been one of the most unique experiences I’ve ever had,” he says. “I got to figure out who I was in a different setting, so removed.”

After having spent almost half a decade fighting flames, this year Huseman is finally able to participate in project work.

As a graduate of the University of Oregon with a degree in economics, a career in firefighting wasn’t what Huseman initially had in mind. But as he became more compelled by what he “did on the side” than his intended field of study, he set aside his degree for a shovel and net. Currently, Huseman is considering whether to pursue a master’s degree in fire ecology. “I can see myself doing this for a lot longer period of time than I thought,” he says.

Huseman’s first assignment as a wildland firefighter came early one summer morning at 4:30, when he was the only participant on the list to answer for two hours. He rushed to the office headquarters, and within an hour was in a vehicle en route to a forest on fire.

“In a way, firefighters are slaves to those things,” Huseman says as he pulls out his black mobile phone. He puts it on the table and looks at the pocket-size machine buzzing in a low hum. Having spent the past five summers trying to make it to the top of the prestigious Oregon Woods’ list, Huseman has scheduled his life around fire season and cell phone reception.

“It’s longer than any relationship I’ve had,” he says. With his phone always in earshot, he makes sure to never miss a call—especially not from Oregon Woods.

A tall, slim man with wavy straw-colored whiskers, Larry Huseman speaks about firefighting like it’s truly magical, the way it secludes people to understand their inner core better. In town, Larry can retreat home when he wants to remove himself. Out on the job, there’s no place else to go beyond the woods and campgrounds. With nowhere to run, he has to deal with problems right then and there.

“It’s one of the best times of your life every single time,” he says. “A very sobering experience. There, none of the materialistic things matter outside of my backpack holding my water and tools.”

Lauren Miller
Just one of the boys

Lauren Miller always knew she would work outdoors.

Out in the Oregon hinterland, she gets an exclusive showing of the Northwest’s most magnificent natural settings, full of melodious biodiversity and alternating landscapes. Better yet, for a generous income her job is to preserve these surroundings.

“I can’t believe I’m actually getting paid for this,” she says.

According to Miller, the on-call waiting, limited summer plans, and distance from her boyfriend in southern Oregon are all worth the spectacular beauty only remote wildland firefighters are able to see.

In the past three years since Miller, 23, first got involved with Oregon Woods Inc., she has fully dedicated her life to fire.

This spring, she graduated from the University of Oregon with an environmental studies degree and two fire ecology internships under her belt. Although the University only offers a few fire-based courses for undergraduates, Miller sculpted her own educational path. She took three fire ecology classes in the landscape architecture, geography, and sociology departments.

As the summer season progresses in Oregon, this Indiana native waits around for potential fire opportunities as she continues to collect experiences in hopes of working at a national forest someday.

“At first, I didn’t know if that was something available to me—I’m a small woman,” she says, laughing in reflection. Despite her petite height, Miller has a strong build, with muscles softly shaped into a tiny frame. With her muscles taunt and hair pulled back tight, her fierce determination is unmistakable.

“Firefighting is full of highs and lows. We’re able to witness what nobody else will ever be able to see.”

As a female firefighter, Miller has to emphasize her capabilities a lot more vigorously than her male counterparts. Female firefighters used to be a rarity. But as gap between male and female continues to shrink in the field, some workers still hold sexist ideas. Miller says more of the noticeable chauvinists are from other companies and are usually old-timers in the business, stuck in aged mentalities.

“People don’t always think I’m as competent as I am,” she says. “But it hasn’t been anything really offensive or blatant, besides stares. No one has actually said anything to me.”

The Nature Conservancy, an international conservation organization locally based in the west Eugene wetlands, placed Miller in an internship doing fire effects monitoring. She is able to determine whether a prescribed fire is necessary by surveying weather, topography, and fuel, such as trees and plants.

“Fires are also beneficial for forests,” she says. “The Willamette Valley is a climate-created ecosystem. Disturbance ecologically is not destroying.”

Miller dreams of working for a government agency like the Olympic National Park in Washington, with nearly one million acres in land. Currently, through collaboration between Oregon Woods Inc. and the Nature Conservancy, Miller helps restoration efforts in the Coburg Hills. Still, fire still flames her passion.

“We all have a healthy fear and respect for fire,” she says. “Firefighting is full of highs and lows. We’re able to witness what nobody else will ever be able to see.”

Kevin Kass
Not in Kansas anymore

Down the busy street of Alder, parallel to the University of Oregon campus, a row of cooperative houses shade the block with eccentric colors and lawn art. Creative energy spills out of their doors, blanketing the area with ideas of sustainability, collective living, and elevated consciousness.

One of these three homes, the Campbell Club, holds the largest number of residents. Dwellers describe their roommates as family, saying there’s always someone to talk to and rely on.

When Kevin Kass first moved to Eugene last year, he desperately needed a job and a place to live. At the Campbell Club, he found both. Fortunate to enter during exceptionally reasonable summer rates, Kass then met a handful of roommates who worked as on-call wildland firefighters. They referred him to Oregon Woods, and advised to always keep his phone near.

Now a Lane Community College student majoring in music and audio engineering, Kass is one of many young people enrolled in wildland firefighting, a job critical during the hot and dry summer season. Oregon, known for its vast forests and lumber, is especially susceptible to fire, with record temperatures above 100 degrees. For the 15.8 million acres protected by the Oregon Department of Forestry, this year alone has had more than 300 fires on public and private land. Although on average most fires are caused by humans, lightening tends to be more damaging.

“The best part of the job is the scenery,” he says. “You’re out in the middle of nowhere. Oregon has giant trees and mountains.”

“It can be stressful,” Kass admits. “You’re taking orders and working in the heat.” Raised in Kansas, Kass was unaccustomed to the mountainous and diverse Oregon landscape. He describes his hometown of Olathe, Kansas, as “suburbia.” Here in Eugene, he finds more like-minded people, which he enjoys.

Kass, having always participated in outdoorsy activities, easily adapted to the physical exertion of wildland firefighting. Although members work on-call, Kevin managed to go on three runs, including one that lasted a week. “After a week, you’re ready to go home,” he says.

This will be Kass’ second summer working with Oregon Woods. So instead of the weeklong training that newcomers must endure, he only has to take a one-day refresher course. And for Kass, that’s just the way he likes it: the less time spent indoors, the more work outside.

“The best part of the job is the scenery,” he says. “You’re out in the middle of nowhere. Oregon has giant trees and mountains.”

Kass enjoys the physical work and exciting projects alongside the good company of his coworkers. And of course, the money doesn’t hurt. Kass reveals that some people can make up to a thousand dollars in just one week. He plans to utilize the high profit better this coming summer and save up. Last year, he spent all his paychecks from firefighting on musical instruments.

“They were investments,” he says, defending his choice. “I’d say I’m a musician first and foremost.”

Jason Hight
Who’s the boss

A prism of light flickers off of Jason Hight’s wedding band, beaming the reflection of nearby stunning colors. He spins the ebon gleam of his ring, made of nearly indestructible tungsten carbide. Married just this March, Hight needed a durable ring to tolerate the rigors of his job: fighting fire. His silver watch, although just a few weeks old, is already covered with scratches.

Preparation for Jason Hight’s sixth year with Oregon Woods practically comes like clockwork. The dispatcher calls him, he tells her his bags are packed, and he’s ready to leave at any moment. Hight finished fifteen credits in the past five weeks at the University of Oregon. But for the rest of the summer, he gets to replace schooling with firefighting opportunities.

Things are slightly different this time. His new bride, Mari, will spend the season in Eugene rather than go to Los Angeles like previous summers. With the prospect of long periods apart, the couple is prepared for the challenge.

“Luckily we just got a new puppy,” Hight says with relief.

For a self-described “nontraditional” student, Hight has handled going back to school later in life well. Now 32 and on course to graduate after this fall, he says he’s excited to experience the world with a college degree. He hopes to leave Eugene for more lucrative towns.

As a leader, Hight must focus on not only his own efforts, but also the work ethic of everyone around him. He describes the atmosphere as sometimes a “pressure cooker.”

“In Eugene, waiting for a position is like waiting for someone to kick the bucket,” Hight says. He adds that it all depends on his career coming out of school. Although he is a general science major, he won’t limit his options just to that field.

Currently Hight is a designated squad boss, overseeing sixteen subordinates with two others. Hight plans to train for the position of crew boss, but is ambivalent about how far he will take his firefighting career.

As a leader, Hight must focus on not only his own efforts, but also the work ethic of everyone around him. He describes the atmosphere as sometimes a “pressure cooker.”

“It can magnify interpersonal conflicts that we all have on a daily basis,” he says. “A big part of my job is de-escalating them.”

After a self-destructive stage, Hight joined firefighting and re-enrolled in college almost concurrently. Through both, he says he has grown up a lot. His level of physical fitness has also improved. As a squad boss for the past two years, he developed a level of expectations for his colleagues and inferiors.

“Passing the pack test is no sign that you’re ready to be a firefighter,” he says.

Hight also will not stand for people showing up in unfit conditions; he delegates obnoxious tasks or even brutal labor as punishment. Hight says basic physical shape and psychological preparedness and toughness are essential to the job.

“There is a certain level of competence as a baseline that I really want to be able to demand,” he says.

When Hight has accomplished keeping the group motivated and working cohesively, he digs right in. He has an oasis of memories and experiences that only a wildland firefighter can recall. He says it’s not just a paycheck, it’s an experience that has him coming for more.