"Run, Scotty, Run!"

I love summers here on the ranch. It is so fun to be outside doing a million different things. It's great. In fact, I can only think of 2 things that I don't love about summer here, both of which can be deadly: rattlesnakes and wildfires. We are right in the heart of the country of both.

Today on my way home as I was passing the rental house, I noticed a truck parked out front and figured it was Scotty, who just paid his deposit 2 days ago to rent the house. As I got closer I noticed that he was swatting something on the ground, and figured it was a bee or something. His truck was in the way and I couldn't tell what it was until I saw a small fire on the other side of the truck. I quickly turned into the driveway, threw the car in park and jumped out as fast as I could, yelling to the kids to stay in the car.

It was around 5 p.m., which is the hottest time of the day in Idaho; it was like 95 degrees and there was a very slight breeze. I didn't think to ask Scottie and his wife how it started, I just ran as fast as I could in my flip flops (we were on our way home from the pool) and grabbed a bucket that was on the ground and headed for the spigot. Scotty was just kind of walking around as if nothing was on fire, dinking around with his shovel a bit and repeated a few times, "I got it. I got it." I have lived around here long enough to know that in dry country when a fire starts it gets bad fast. I thought Scotty knew that too since he grew up here.

Well, Scotty's wife and I were bucketing and stomping (in flip flops remember) and Scotty was doing things here and there with his shovel. I was frantic. We were surrounded by tall dead skeleton (is that redundant?) weed which is great fuel for a fire. The wind was picking up and the fire was spreading pretty fast. The whole ranch was directly downwind of the rental house and I knew that it wouldn't take long before things got really out of control, the way the wind was blowing and how everything was so dry.

I looked at Scotty as I was running. He was obviously still not seeing the danger. I yelled at the top of my lungs, "Run, Scotty, RUN!" I yelled this about every 2 minutes or so because the man was not feeling any motivation. He was moving VERY slowly. The whole time I was mumbling under my breath, "What is he thinking? Idiot!" Not very nice, I know, but that is what I was thinking.

The fire had spread more and was almost to the wheels of his truck. "Move your truck, Scotty!" I yelled twice. He moved it maybe 10 feet DOWNWIND of the fire in the dead weeds. DUH! A minute later the fire was once again to the wheels and I yelled again, "MOVE YOUR TRUCK!" I could just picture it blowing up and making an even bigger fire. So he moved it. Maybe about 10 feet farther still downwind of the fire. Hello! The fire was now starting to catch onto the juniper bushes right up against the house creating a lot of smoke. It was also right at Scotty's truck. AGAIN! So I dropped the bucket and ran over to it, jumped in it, cranked the key, it cut off. I cranked it again, revved it, and pulled it all the way on to the road (it had very little brakes so I almost hit the fence). I moved our car back too (my kids were all scared). I tried calling 911 and my neighbor on my cell phone as I was running back over but couldn't get reception.

The smoke was now billowing up against the siding on the house. It was totally out of our hands. I yelled to Scotty and his wife, "I'm going for help!" By the time I got back to the car there was a huge plume of smoke and I could barely see where to go. I almost hit the fence backing up.

I raced the mile and a half down the dirt road saying aloud, "IDIOT! WHAT WAS HE THINKING!?"

Luckily Weston, Ammon, and Alma were here and they grabbed some hoses and headed back over there. I called 911, and 2 of our neighbors who are volunteer firemen.

By the time I got back to the house, about 15 minutes later, the fire was pretty much out, thanks to all the helpers and equipment.

I went over to Scotty's wife who was sitting on the front step looking exhausted. I asked her, "are you okay?" She said she was and then went on to tell me how the fire started. Scotty was "burning some weeds around the house and the wind came out of nowhere and it got away from us."

Are you kidding me!? Everything was against them burning weeds around the house. It was 95 degrees, super dry, slight breeze, acres of dry weeds around them, not their house, no permission to burn, etc. They hadn't even moved in, why did they care so much about the weeds (that make up the whole yard) next to the house? He had already burnt the backyard, put that out when it "got away from him" and then thought he'd go for the front. Hmmm.

So now the question is: Should we still rent it to them? Should we give Scotty a second chance? Weston hasn't decided yet. I know what I would do. What would you do?

A couple pictures of the damage:


When we got back, Ammon felt inspired to write this on the sidewalk:

Just in case you can't make out the writing it says, "We are ranchers, church goers, family memebers, lovers, creative memory consultants (kind of random, but...cool, that's for you Natalie, unless Ammon hasn't told me of his new job), players, obstacle course designers...and now...FIRE FIGHTERS"

{(So....did he rent?  Go here to find out.)}