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| Mr Biz on DougStephan.com |
TAOS PUEBLO, NM (July
24, 2003)--The competing interests of lumber, tourism, public safety, and
native American
traditions, all challenged fire fighters
this week in and around New Mexico's northernmost autonomous "pueblo."
It took nearly three weeks, and up to 1,600 firefighters to bring the Encebado
or "Taos" fire under control, with no loss of life, and little building
damage, but it was a wake up call to complacency in a high fire risk area.
As the ski resorts, casinos, art galleries, and vacation homes of the "Enchanted
Circle" have grown in recent years, governments and subdivisions have
had to deal with years of forest management neglect.
In some cases the problem resulted from mandated elimination of tree harvesting,
and in other cases developers have worried more about landscaping and remote
dream houses, than fire equipment access, and fire prevention education.
"We traditionally do not interfere with nature, and view fire as a natural
way of clearing brush and trees which had overgrown land," said a Taos tribal
elder who is called "Ernesto", who lives in one room behind his adobe
jewelry shop on Pueblo land.
When I asked him about the start of the fire, by a lightning strike near Blue
Lake Wilderness Area, alongside New Mexico's highest peak, Mt. Wheeler, he
looked puzzled. "I don't know about that name, all I know is we call the
place Where Horses Drink, and I hike up there every week for exercise. We plant
pinon trees (bushes) along the ridge of all our settlements, because they slow
or prevent fires, but this time, there was much concern when the fires came
down the mountain and started to consume the pinon," he said pointing
to a charred ridge about 500 yards behind his home.
The fire, whipped by unusually high and multi-directional winds, destroyed
more than 7,500 acres, and came within five miles of the resort town of Angel
Fire, and the small artists' hamlet of Shady Brook.
Flames were within a few miles of Vice President Dick Cheney's Ranch, and spewed
thick white clouds of smoke 50 miles to the east, past Eagle Nest and Cimarron,
to the million acre ranch of communications magnate Ted Turner.
Depending upon winds, the Plaza in central Taos received a cloud of smoke,
and in the old mining towns of Red River and Questa, even when skies appeared
to be clear, residents still dabbed at teary eyes and health warnings were
issued to the elderly and those with respiratory disease.
One official in a neighboring county, privately suggested that the "Indians" had
no desire to fight the fire, stop the fire, or divert the fire. Even as flames
came within a few hundred yards of the outskirts of the pueblo "village" there
was debate over how vigorously nature should be fought.
"Someone pointed out that the Pueblo's gambling casino was a profitable
commercial venture, and if the Indians did absolutely nothing to call in state
and federal firefighters to extinguish the flames, and neighboring private property
was destroyed, or people were killed or injured, there could be legal actions
taken against the Pueblo," I was told.
In any case, the Pueblo was closed to all visitors and tourists, and first
a few, and then as many as 20 state and federal crews, and equipment from the
adjacent Carson National Forest were called in. Planes, helicopters, bulldozers,
roadblocks--the full mobilization took place in 100-plus degree heat, and men
and women wearing and hauling hot and heavy equipment.
"These are the heroes of our area," said a "greeter" at the
Taos Wal-Mart, pointing to printed and home made signs which bedecked many area
homes and stores, proclaiming, "Thank You Firefighters."
At the annual "Wings Over Angel Fire" air show and hot air balloon
festival, anyone with a fire rescue shirt or jacket was treated to food and
gifts from vendors who refused to take their money.
A volunteer fire chief, and forest fire Marshall, meeting with a small group
of homeowners, gave a primer on the need for a resumption of some small-scale
commercial lumbering; proper landscaping to keep all brush more than 30 feet
from houses and wood decks, and constructions of roads and driveways which
are wide enough for fire trucks to come in, do the job, and turn around to
move to the next hotspot.
Craig Lyman, an AIA architect, builder, and outdoorsman who has done design
work and consulting with Habitat for Humanity, concurred:
"Clearing the slash (downed brush and waste growth), thinning trees, and
appreciation of special precautions and fire retardant construction materials,
are a fulltime job," he said.
"Some people want the rustic beauty of a shake-shingle roof, and wooden
or vinyl siding materials, not understanding that we have many advanced, and
often more cost-efficient building materials today which are more fire-resistant
and longer lasting."
As a possibly positive offshoot of the fire, there is talk that the last commercial
saw mill in Colfax County, in Cimarron, might re-open. Also, Angel Fire, with
only 1,200 year-round residents, has been contacted by a specialty wood molding
company, specifically interested in cutting small-diameter trees, exactly the
kind which crowd out the sky, and pack fire prone areas with such tight growth
that one report in the Taos News indicated that a fire crew "could not
move through the trees."
For many Americans, Western and Southwest wildfires are a nine second clip
on the evening news, and a one paragraph "National News Roundup" item
in the local newspaper.
But for those in the impact areas, in the midst of a decade-long drought, commerce,
home, family, and life and death itself are often the reality of wildfires.
"Nature usually knows best, but, sometimes, well, sometimes, we are responsible
for guarding nature, and have to take some actions," explains Ernesto.
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Mark Scheinbaum is chief investment strategist for Kaplan & Co., NASD,
SIPC, Boca Raton, Florida.
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