The Eagle Creek fire scorching the
heart of the Columbia River Gorge was likely ignited by a single human being – a
careless, feckless, undeveloped human being. But the blaze that followed was fanned
by all of us.
Indeed, the crime committed upon us by
this fire, from larceny of natural beauty and spirit, to larceny of livelihood
and economy, demands severe punishment. But what punishment restores the damage
done by the Eagle Creek Fire? There is no financial edict or human service that
will quickly restore the disrupted lives or the emerald majesty of the Columbia
River Gorge. Punishment, after all, exists to exact closure and to discourage
repetition. Neither outcome is possible in this case. Nature’s closure will
take decades, and the economic rebound will require years. Moreover, repetition
is likely, not from the current suspect, but rather from our continuing contribution
to climate change and the political ineptitude to mitigate it. In this case, a
careless spark from an individual was introduced to a careless fuel source left
by all of us. Would a firework tossed into an Oregon forest cause a fire? In a
normal summer, it’s quite possible. But would that fire in a normal summer
explode into a hellfire of over 30,000 acres in a few days? Also possible, but
unlikely.
Between June 19th and
September 12th, PDX airport has recorded nary a drop of rain – 0.21”
according to Weather Underground. This amount of “rain” is akin to combating severe
dehydration by running through a yard sprinkler. Indeed, our Willamette Valley
summers are normally dry. Some deem this a reward for putting up with our soggy
and gray winter shadows. But a normal summer is not this dry. According to the same database, we usually expect around 2.25”
of rain between mid-June and mid-September, with temperatures peaking in the
low 80s and upper 70s. Indeed, heat waves are common, but ephemeral; rains are
rare, but Pacific winds blanket us with nocturnal marine layers and occasional
drizzle. Such historical patterns have been decreasing in recent years as we increasingly
break temperature records in both single days (if not all-time records) and
frequency (cumulative heat). And so despite the first half of 2017 displaying a
leaderboard of cold, snow, and rain trophies, we jarringly swapped jerseys in
August and September (thus far) for record heat combined with near-record dryness.
In fact, 2017 featured the warmest August on record in terms of overall average
temperature (National Weather Service). The consequence on our forests renders
any spark, regardless of origin, capable of an ignition well beyond a normal,
healthy forest fire.
Fire starts and burn area in the
Western United States are unequivocally increasing (Westerling AL, et al. 2006, 2016; Morgan P, et al. 2008). This is correlated with accentuating
temperatures, changes in snowpack, and longer, drier summers. Add to these data
increased amplitude in seasonal variability (Climate Impacts Group, University
of Washington), and the results exemplify the dire consequences of human-induced
climate change. Whether a natural lightning strike, a vehicle backfire, or a hapless
firework, our forests are more vulnerable because of us – not any single person. Hence, decades of reckless energy use,
inadequate forest management, and failed politics are threatening to
significantly alter our environment towards something less desirable and less
habitable. Will our children inherit the lush and resplendent Pacific Northwest
that we are so fortunate to call our home? Or will they inherit Mars (I mean that
both figuratively and literally)? How many forests must we eulogize in crimson-etched
silhouettes before we fully internalize our responsibilities at hand?
Alas, the Columbia River Gorge will
rebound, as it has time and time again long before we agitated its repose. But
the cries in its honor following the Eagle Creek Fire are in many ways selfish cries
for our personal attachments to The Gorge. For this, I’m as selfish as any. The
Gorge is where I go to lose my words; it’s a sanctuary of silence; it’s a place
of nowhere. I often cycle through its cathedral spires in seek of challenge,
solitude, grace, and humility. And so, for me, what’s immediately at stake from
the flames are my emotional, personal experiences of The Gorge. But The Gorge is about much more than
myself or any one person; it’s about us
– the memories, livelihoods, economies, and futures we should all protect. And
so instead of rallying a crucifying mob to exact an impossible punishment upon
any one individual, perhaps we should direct our anger and grief in ways that
bolster our communities and politics towards a cleaner, greener, and
sustainable future. Regardless, the Columbia River Gorge will carry on, with or
without us. I’d just prefer it be with us.
References:
Weather Underground, The Weather
Company, LLC. https://www.wunderground.com/history/airport/KPDX/2017/9/12/DailyHistory.html (accessed September 11th, 2017).
National Weather Service, Portland,
Oregon. Area Forecast Discussion. http://forecast.weather.gov/product.php?site=PQR&issuedby=PQR&product=AFD&format=CI&version=1&glossary=1 (Accessed September 1st,
2017).
Westerling, AL, Hidalgo HG, Cayan
DR, Swetnam TW. Warming and Early Spring Increase In Western U.S. Forest
Wildfire Activity. Science. 313;940-3
(2006).
Westerling, AL. Increasing Western
U.S. Forest Wildfire Activity: Sensitivity To Changes In The Timing Of Spring. Philos Trans R Soc Lond B Biol Sci.
371;1696 (2016).
Morgan P, Heyerdahl EK, Gibson CE.
Multi-season Climate Synchronized Forest Fires Throughout the 20th
Century, Northern Rockies, USA. Ecology.
89;717-28. (2008).
Climate Impacts Group, University of
Washington. https://cig.uw.edu/learn/climate-variability/ (accessed September 11th,
2017).
