Adverting Disaster

 A couple weeks ago we said a sad farewell to the barn owner's horse, Primo. Primo was just a great horse. One of those golden horses that are always amazing at whatever they do. His passing was sudden, but not unexpected - he had been riding the laminitis roller coaster for several years, and it's a relief his suffering is over. 

I spent most of his last day with him

so he wouldn't be alone 

The next day was understandably somber. His buddy Turbo was looking lost and rather sad. Truby was subdued, as befitting the situation. Cinco was a little confused, as the 'baby' of the group. Barn owner J was staying with her sister for a few days, and I had volunteered to feed and water that evening. 

Sleepy Truby

It was hot, as expected in Tucson in early September. I was absolutely drained from the emotional support given the day before, and physically tired from a long day of work. It was nice though. Quiet. The smell of mesquite smoke in the air. Which was kinda weird. It was WAY too hot to be using fireplaces at night (it was 105 in the day and low 90s at night) and far too dry to be burning outdoors. But whatever, people are weird. I turned the horses out, cleaned the stalls, set up dinner...I took Truby and Turbo, one at a time, to visit Primo's grave. Truby was uninterested, but Turbo gave the area a thorough inspection before spinning around and adamantly leaving. 

I was puttering around, too worn out to really do much, but not really ready to leave. I was debating whether or not to dump the Gator. It wasn't full...it wasn't my job...but there were quite a few flies buzzing around...and the Gator is super fun to drive...so why not?

I'm really glad I did, because when I drove out I discovered the source of the "wood smoke". The Backyard Trail I ride Truby on all the time was smoldering. There was a huge black patch in the center of the trail that was literally smoking. I figured that was bad. But Tucson is weird, so...???

Looked bigger in person

I knew J wasn't home, but I was pretty sure her husband was. I dragged myself toward the house, passing M, who was just driving up. I told her my finding, and she agreed that it was probably a bad thing, and we should do something about it. She had actually smelled the smoke that morning, but didn't investigate. I wasn't able to get a hold of BOHusband. I really didn't want to bother J, but property on fire is probably an acceptable reason to intrude on her grief. 

I wasn't able to get ahold of her either. So M and I decided the best plan of action was to load up the Gator with water and go soak the ground. Halfway through filling up the tubs, I got a message from J...they knew about the smoldering ground and would deal with it later, we didn't have to do anything unless we really wanted to. Uhhhh....

ilu, Gator

M and I decided that neither of us could just walk away from a potential wildfire, and you know, the fact that our horses LIVE there, so we kept on with our plan. (M wanted to call the firefighters in hopes of scoring some eye candy, but decided we weren't dressed nearly nice enough, lol.) By this point we were a little giddy, and pretty excited to be temporary firefighters.

But first, a selfie!

...was I driving the Gator at the time? Maybe.

Of course, we had no idea what we were doing. We were pretty sure that fire=bad, water=good, but we were worried about screwing it up and spreading the fire. Or not doing enough. The ground was scorched, but the fire was starting several inches below the surface. Spreading out manure/shavings/ hay/tree debris/etc into a path is pretty common out here. Our Loop Trail is regularly supplemented with old bedding and manure spread from the host stable. It appears our Backyard Trail got packed down too much, a little rain a few weeks ago probably jumpstarted some decomposition, and then the following super hot weeks allowed some combustion to spontaneously start. Or something like that. I'm a pet groomer, not a fire expert. 

So anyway, we were doing our best to soak the ground, prevent the burnt top layer to spread further, and generally not fuck things up. We both love dealing with random disasters like this, so we were bright eyed, bushy tailed, and mildly hysterical. After dumping our first load of water, we stood around trying to decide what to do next. And then I realized that some of the fire ants swarming around the area where climbing up my leg. 

So there was a lot of slapping myself and screaming and more slapping. Since I had come directly from work I was wearing wide legged yoga pants and paddock boots, giving the ants easy access to my bare skin. It was great!

To be safe, we drove the rest of the trail, looking for any more burn spots. I knew there were some huge piles of leaves and mesquite beans, etc. I was feeling kinda wild and started just plowing through them inside of trying to squeeze around. Now, I'm a super wuss, but I was pumped up and since I was driving (therefor in control) was having a blast. Had I been the passenger, I would was been freaking out, holding on my with fingers and toes, hands, legs, my hair...or jumping out of the Gator. M just sat, perfectly relaxed, unconcerned that I might flip the thing at any moment. She's badass, you guys. 

I was so sure we were going to explode this somehow...

and this video would end up titled "Tucson Housewives Set State on Fire by Being Dumb"

We decided to dump one more load of water and call it a day. It was less exciting this time, but we were finally getting the ground soaked down below the burn layer, and got the perimeter of the area soaked pretty well. We figured we had done about as much as we could do (M thought about getting the tractor and dragging the ground, but we weren't sure if that would set off an inferno or something. I mean, it's 2020, let's be careful!) and...I was picking up even more fire ants.

Which was great! Because I didn't really notice them until they started biting (ouch). And they didn't start biting me until they got all the way up to my upper thighs. Which is great. Knowing that ants were perfectly ok with my legs, but reaching my crouch and going OMG WTF NO DIE DIE DIE!!!! And let me tell you, there is nothing dignified about getting ants in your pants. I was slapping myself, grinding my palms against my body, stamping around, desperately trying to kill the ants. M was laughing her ass off at me, which is better than her being horrified by me sticking my hands down my pants trying to find ants!

Thank god I can laugh at myself in these situations, because otherwise it would have been insanely embarrassing! 

I sent pics to J, just to show her what we had done, and decided to go home, make my husband pick up the best pizza AZ has to offer (it's pretty good, but Tucson has terrible pizza. Like, pizza here is just bad.) and take some Benedryl. 

I spent the next few days taking antihistamines for the ant bites, but since the barn didn't catch on fire, I think it was worth it. It turns out, J and her husband had gone out earlier that day, looking for the source of the smoke. They had found some tiny little burn spots and snuffed them out. J had no idea it had continued and gotten as big as it had. That made me feel a little less concerned about the "yeah, we know" comment! That evening her husband went out and dug up the trail, so everything has a chance to breathe and is no longer compressed.

It's been two weeks smoldering earth free. But I think any time we smell smoke, we're going to go out and check, just in case.

Celebratory roll