Now there's something you don't see on every run.

As my helmet cleared the front of my face and plopped onto my noggin, I could make out a figure frantically waving his arms like spastic semaphore in the middle of the street. Between the intermittent strobe of the lights and the irregular air horn blasts, I could barely make out "OVER THERE! IT'S OVER THERE!" as I popped the engine's door open and hopped out.

It was 1:30 a.m. Little did I know that I wouldn't be back in the firehouse until almost five hours later.

—————
 

The squad guys were already hightailing it up the walkway of a three-story garden-style apartment building, the furthest one back in a horseshoe layout. Trailing by only seconds—delayed by our need to bring a hoseline—the lineman and I shortly found ourselves in their wake, each with a shoulderful of 1-1/2". My bottle smacked against my lower back as I ran; this particular address was so close to the firehouse that I didn't have a chance to secure the waist belt properly, and it flailed awkwardly like a short, heavy tail. I didn't notice it for too long, though, because I could see the large bay windows of the stairwell starting to fill with smoke as the rescue company began forcing doors.

"3B" appeared in front of my face quickly, despite the three flights of stairs. We were actually riding heavy that night, so there was a fifth man on the engine who was helping to back up the lineman and flake out the hose properly. I found a quick respite in kneeling down to mask up, so I decided that I'd finally connect my waist belt (there was no way I could have known, however, that this was going to cause hilarity. More on that later.)

A good layout man is usually too concerned with working his ass off outside the apartment or structure to be inside having a good time. That fun is reserved for the officer and the lineman, who are too busy with other stuff to worry about having enough line. This is where I came in, and tonight was no exception. Thankfully, due to the extra man on the engine, four hands were doing the job of two, and I was eventually able to make it all the way to the apartment door with one small loop of hose on hand, should my guys need it.

Chris turned around in the smoke ahead of me, and mustered enough volume to come through his facepiece loud and clear:

"DO NOT LET ANYONE THROUGH THAT DOOR."

I gave him a thumbs-up and hunkered myself in the doorway. It wasn't that wide of an opening, anyways; pack-rat conditions in the apartment only allowed the door to about three-quarters of fully open. Giving a quick glance behind me (all clear!), I leaned my way into the apartment and tore into the pile of debris behind the door. Even if someone had already looked back there, I figured it couldn't hurt.

Phew, no bodies—back to the doorway.

Another quick look behind me now revealed a bunch of third-due guys sitting idly, performing the rough firefighting equivalent of thumb-twiddling. They knew that most of my firehouse was already in the apartment, knocking the fire and tearing down ceilings. A few half-assed "…come on, man, get outta the way!" shouts came from behind me, but I stayed firm, and tossed back a cheery "Yeah, yeah, we got it. Don't worry about it." We didn't need to go bringing even more of our shit into a tiny apartment full of someone else's shit. I held fast.

What felt like mere seconds later, I felt a sensation I haven't experienced since this fire, the big 'un I had while I was in probation at Engine 26.* I lurched backwards as if pulled by a big invisible rope attached to my spine.

Aw, dammit. I know what's about to happen.

I made a last-ditch attempt to grab the inside of the doorway and hold on for dear life, but no dice. As I was pulled from the doorway, I saw the shadow of a big MF'r (that's a technical term) behind me. He had me by my SCBA cylinder; grabbing the shoulder straps up top, and the valve assembly on bottom. I was now about as useful as a turtle picked up by my shell. I couldn't hold onto the hoseline, because I'd pull it backwards from my guys inside; my sole plan of action was to follow along as I went up, over, and back down about two feet from where I was (writer's note: thank you for not throwing me down the stairs). I scrambled to regain my post, but by then it was too late; the floodgates had opened; the castle walls were breached; the apartment began to fill with bodies.

After a little while, the fire was knocked, and companies started to go home. Unfortunately, that fire turned out to be a fatal; there was an elderly woman inside the apartment who was unable to make it out before she succumbed to smoke inhalation. A few companies stayed on-scene, performing overhaul and waiting until ATF, our own fire investigators, and the Medical Examiner had completed their work. The sun was coming up as we undertook our last task: to bring the body out. Six firefighters (myself included) squeezed themselves down the three flights of stairs, wrestling with a six-handled black nylon bag. Three awkward turns and a few pinched fingers later, we set the bag on the ME's wheeled cot and trudged back to the apparatus.

Our gear smelled great—we did not. Everyone's relief had arrived by the time we backed into the firehouse, but their envy was returned only by glassy stares of sleeplessness.

I drove home shirtless, not particularly eager to rub my sweat-soaked t-shirt all over my wife's new car. The sun was really up now, and I dug for my sunglasses with one hand while I snapped the radio on with the other. Strains of Creedence Clearwater Revival filled V St SE as I pulled into the beaming sunlight.

"…you say that you'll be mine, baby, all the time… Susie Q…"

—————

Re-reading it now, I can't believe I left the "useless turtle" moment out of the Engine 26 story linked above. However belated it may be: thanks to some big sonofabitch riding on Rescue 2 that day. Ya bastard.

Let this story mark my return from a good, much-needed hiatus. It felt nice to just drop off the grid for a while, see some family, and take some time for myself. Sorry there wasn't any notice, but yes, I'm alive, and back in the game.

—RL

You can't help but have some love for the home team, especially when one of the favorites has expressed his off-season desire to "get my EMT [certification] and do the firefighter thing so I have something to fall back on."

In an online chat hosted by Washington Post Sports, Harper told fans that "I'd probably be a firefighter. Ever since I was growing up, I wanted to be a firefighter or a baseball player." Way to pick the easier one, Bryce! Now the rest should be cakewalk, compared to wrestling your way up into the Majors before you even turn twenty years old—you've got plenty of time to become the other kind of rookie.

Let me get this straight. Not that I'm discouraging his thoughts, by any means—but with eight homers, fourteen doubles, and four triples (plus a rack of other equally-impressive stats), that's quite noble of you. Especially for a 19-year-old, many of whom we've all seen fall victim to a lack of planning for the future.

Good on ya, Bryce. Next time you get a break, come say hi to our guys working coverage at the ballpark. We'd be happy to tell you all about our Department… or you can just read the news, we're usually in there for something new every day (sheesh).

[via Yahoo! News]

The AP was feeling sassy enough to put this photo illustration together, which was the inspiration for the photo at the top. How'd I do, compared to the worldwide wire service?

(© AP, BLS Illustration)

A few weeks ago, I had the extreme privilege of meeting Robin Sorenson, the founder of Firehouse Subs. Robin and his brother, Chris are both former Jacksonville firefighters, self-made businessmen, and unabashed “foodies” who founded the restaurant chain in 1994 (on a mother-in-law's credit card, no less!) In the space of eighteen years, the two have expanded their business to an impressive 505 stores throughout 29 states.

Myself and several other DC-area bloggers were invited to the Annadale location—actually the 500th store, interestingly enough—for a meet & greet, some lively chat about the brand as a whole, and (most importantly!) some seriously good sandwiches.

Robin's explanation of how he builds each sandwich was mouthwatering, even before we started. A nitpicky guy by nature, he refuses to relinquish control of any aspect of his stores or his subs. Every photo shoot, every tabletop pattern, every sub name and nature must at least cross his desk for an okay before anything is put into production.

"When I build one of these sandwiches, and I want to put it on the menu, I really don't consider the cost of making it. I never have; each sandwich is just built from what I think will be the tastiest ingredients for the concept, and then we work out how much it will be. I don't ever compromise on quality."

And it shows. (If only the guys at my firehouse could cook like this!) The menu is here; we were given the opportunity to try five different sandwiches, all of which were melty, cheesy, saucy goodness. The secret? The ingredients are paired together and heated up in a steamer, keeping everything moist before it even goes on the bread.

My favorite: The New York Steamer, a beef brisket/pastrami combo topped with melted provolone.

Oh, and speaking of sauce: my favorite part was a pepper sauce, proprietary to Firehouse, that comes in an awesome hydrant-shaped jar. Named for Chris and Robin's father, a 43-year-veteran of the Jacksonville Fire Department, Capt. Sorensen's Pepper Sauce is made from Datil peppers, a Carribbean native that shares the heat level of a habanero with a slightly fruitier kick. (This author has personally put it on pretty much every food imaginable, and has not yet been disappointed. Pizza is especially awesome.)

Their father's shield adorns the label of the pepper sauce that bears his name.

Lastly, and most importantly: Robin and Chris have not forgotten their roots in the fire department. In 2005, the two brothers started the Public Safety Foundation. Taken from the website:

The Public Safety Foundation is dedicated to better equip, educate, and fund public safety entities. …Many first responders are forced to make do with older equipment and have limited access or no access to available resources. Our goal is to ensure that we are able to impact local communities by providing fire departments, law enforcement and EMS with the tools, technology and training they need.

In order to accomplish its mission, the Firehouse Subs Public Safety Foundation plans to provide:

     • Emergency service entities with life-saving equipment

     • Prevention and educational tools to the public about the importance of fire safety and natural disaster preparedness.

     • Financial resources to individuals pursuing a career in the public safety sector through a scholarship program for future firefighters and law enforcement, as well as continued education and training.

     • Ground assistance after natural disasters by feeding victims and first responders on the scene.

Robin related that the Foundation has provided everything from thermal imaging cameras to meals for Katrina victims, and has been steadily growing since its inception. To date, the Foundation has raised approximately $5.5 million dollars for organizations and citizens across the nation.

Their most popular item? The bright red pickle buckets that are for sale in the store, as seen in the first photo. Once the 300-odd pickles that are contained within are depleted, the buckets are rinsed and sold for charity at $2 a pop; Francisco Tuttle, a man whose life was saved when his local fire department utilized a Zoll monitor provided by the Foundation, said that "…a Pickle Bucket saved my life!"

All in all, it was a wonderful evening, and my wife and I left well-stuffed with delicious sandwiches. Now, the contest portion! As part of the dinner, I was given five $10 gift cards to give to my readers for promotional purposes.

The first five readers who email me a picture of themselves at a Firehouse Subs location will win a $10 gift card! I'll post a bunch of the pictures here, too, so feel free to get creative (bonus points if you park your apparatus outside the store!)

Find a location here and give it a try. I bet you'll love it, and I can't wait for those photos!

/RL

—————

Unrelated to subs, but equally as exciting: I know I left everyone hanging, but I just moved into my first house and this last month has been nuts. Yes, I won the bike I was vying for! Myself and six other cyclists from around the US were chosen as Foundry's first brand reps/sponsored riders, and it feels good. THANK YOU SO MUCH TO EACH AND EVERY READER WHO VOTED. I couldn't have done it without you! I just built my new bike last night and took a few photos, if anyone's interested. Click on the image below for a full album.

I'm a finalist in an amazing competition to become a sponsored athlete/brand rep for Foundry Cycles, a newly-minted (hah!) bicycle manufacturer in Minnesota. Their ethos is solid, their bikes are sexy, and I need your help to win! Vote for Alex Capece (use the little blue "Log In to Facebook" button if you need to, then scroll down—I'm in the Northeast division); then, feel free to read my competition profile page where they asked me a bunch of fun questions.

—————

Yes, I know I've been bugging everyone about this, but I promise you won't hear any more about it after this month. The last time I actually called upon the readership was back in 2009, when I asked for help regarding my video entry to Nikon's "A Day Through Your Lens" competition. Remember this old video?

(Still can't embed the damn things. I think I'm just techno-stoopid.)

Earlier this month, my entry essay to Foundry Cycles' Tradesman competition landed me squarely in a field of fifteen finalists, all of whom are scaring up as many votes as they can until the contest ends on April 30th. The top prize (of which five will be awarded) is a brand-spankin' new Foundry Bicycle of your choosing and a one year sponsored rider/athlete contract. It's a once-in-a-lifetime chance for everyone who made the cut, and we need all the help we can get until the end of the month!

—————

No catches, no strings, no email addresses given, and no firstborn children sworn away. All you have to do is vote on Foundry's website, but you need to log in to Facebook to do it.

The voting link takes you to the page with all fifteen finalists' pictures. Unless you're already logged into Facebook on your computer, you probably won't see little white "vote" buttons beneath our faces. No worries; just click on the little blue "Log In to Facebook" button up near the top of the page, beneath the white text. It will redirect you through Facebook and back to the page with all of us, where you will then be able to vote for whoever you want!

I've made a little infographic explanation below, if anyone needs any help. Click on it to make it larger.

Vote for me, obviously; but if you feel remiss not adding a vote to the other regions after you help me out, consider spending four more clicks of your mouse to vote down the "straight ticket" we've cobbled together (thanks to Patrick Harrington).

I know we'll all appreciate the help! Plus, some of the voting margins for these buddies above are very tight, and I'm sure they're spending many a sleepless night struggling for each and every vote. Help them out!

Many thanks to Pete Sulzer of ELAFFHQ.com and Dave Statter for helping to spread the word. I'll have more to report come April 30th, and I'm keeping my fingers crossed!

/RL

(Someone needs to make this in a carbon disc wheel.)

A 300mm lens and a tripod can go a long way… but just like real estate, it's all about location. I bet the Mall or Gravelly Point didn't offer this view…

More to come later.

/RL

Image © RaisingLadders Photography, 2012. Reproduction without permission is strictly prohibited.

Dave Statter was kind enough to let me know about this, and I wanted to spread the word on RL, among other things.

The National Fallen Firefighter's Foundation is hosting a 9-11 Memorial Stairclimb at the Capital Hilton (1919 Connecticut Ave NW) in Washington, D.C. on April 25th. Registration link is here, and the fee is $25. All are welcome to join, firefighters or the general public!

Bring your bunker gear, run it in PT gear, it doesn't matter! The important thing is that all proceeds benefit the FDNY's Counseling Services Unit to help families and colleagues of those lost on September 11th.

It's a great event for a great cause, so come out and have a blast with your friendly Capital firefighters!

Dear readers:

Foundry Cycles is a bicycle manufacturing company based out of Bloomington, MN. From the company directly, regarding their recent contest:

"Foundry Cycles is looking for five brand ambassadors, Foundry Tradesmen and women, to ride our bikes and document their experiences. If you're chosen, you'll be given a Foundry bike. In return, you'll spend the year talking to people about your Foundry. Go on rides, take it to races, local events, coffee shops, the grocery store, your local bike shop—everywhere you'd normally take your bike. Answer questions about it. Tell people what you think of it. Let them take it for a spin. Throw on a helmet cam and send us video of your adventures. Write up your experiences. You'll have to earn your keep, but if you work as hard as you play, then you're right for Foundry."

This is my entry—submitted this 30th day of March, 2012. Wish me luck.

 - RL

—————

Dammit.

I cursed as the tire lever slipped, and I bashed my knuckles against the cassette. Glancing down, I could just barely see the blood beginning to collect by the desolate yellow glow in which I was forced to work.

Looking up and stretching a sore back, I made a personal decree that I would get my next flat tire in front of a brighter sign. The proud, canary-yellow rectangle that proclaimed Morgan’s Fish Fry to be “Black Owned, Family Operated” left something to be desired in the way of illumination.

What the hell am I doing, I thought dejectedly. (I have this thought about once a month, for various reasons.) It’s almost six in the morning, and I’m at a deserted intersection in Southeast D.C. Okay, so there’s that other guy over there, but I’ve picked him up in the ambulance before—I’m pretty sure he’s zonked out on heroin.

I was riding the streets of the city to familiarize myself with alleyways, side streets, major buildings, and unusual addresses; but my morning workout/educational experience was going to be cut short today. As I chuckled to myself about comedian Chris Rock’s routine about what happens on MLK Jr. Avenue in every city, I silently thanked my now-torn inner tube for making it this far. I wasn’t more than a few blocks from the firehouse, and my shift was starting soon. In the pre-dawn darkness, the only sound in Anacostia was the crisp clicking of my cleats as I navigated the neglected sidewalk.

In June of 2008, I moved to Washington after an eager and hurried post-college application to the District of Columbia Fire Department. After a short period of tortuous waiting to “get on the job,” as they say, I entered the fire academy that very December. Today, my length of service with the District government stands at just over three years.

My short career has brought me all over the sixty-nine square miles that encompass our nation’s capitol, working in all four quadrants and damn near every one of the thirty-three firehouses dotting our diamond-shaped city. My original appointment was to a location in Northeast Washington, where I learned about the crowded violence of a Go-Go club and the peaceful slumber of a heroin overdose. The move to the big leagues, however, was my eventual transfer to a firehouse in the Southeast quadrant. In the notoriously violent and fiscally-depressed area east of the Anacostia River, I was taught the finer points of PCP-induced manic ranting (both with and without physical altercations), as well as the strange things one will shout when there’s a knife sticking out of your spine or a bullet in your left ass-cheek. Gunshots, vicious assaults, heart attacks, suicides, “intentional vehicular contact,” you name it—Southeast had it.

And I loved it.

Every shift brings twenty-four straight hours of uncertainty and excitement.  As a firehouse staffed with fourteen bodies, Engine Company 15 and Rescue Squad 3 spend 25% of our waking lives together. While on duty, we train, we cook, we bullshit, we laugh, and we work our asses off. We’re one of the busiest firehouses in the Department, and we’re tasked with knowing this city—our city—like the backs of our well-worn hands.

I’ve been writing about my experiences since I entered the Training Academy years ago. The links provided throughout this essay are to my personal firefighting blog, RaisingLadders. I was selected several ago to be a contributor to FireEMSBlogs.com (a successful industry blog aggregate geared towards the emergency responders of the world), and I have been faithfully writing and recording my experiences ever since. Additionally, I was recently selected as a customer testimonial for RoadID, tying together my experiences as an emergency responder, husband, runner, and cyclist.

As a firefighter and paramedic, I continually serve the citizens in any multitude of emergency situations. The one thing that I will always need to do my job successfully is to have access to the proper tools. We use tools for extinguishment and tools for demolition. We use tools for giving medications and tools for shocking someone’s heart back to life. I agree very strongly with Foundry’s mission that bicycles should be tools, and I’m constantly using and testing everything that is made available to me. Another thing you’ll learn about most firemen: our job isn’t what you’d call lucrative, and so most of us have a part-time job. I pad my income (and feed my addiction) as an employee at the best-reviewed bike shop in our fine city, BicycleSPACE.

For four amazing years, I have lived and worked in one of the greatest cities in the world.  I know this place, in more ways than most citizens or commuters can imagine. I've worked in the firehouses and the bike shops; I’ve been to the large-scale training drills and the group rides; I’ve explored the back alleys and the bike paths. I assure you that this bike will never hang on a wall, unloved and unridden. I appreciate the function, utility, durability, and form of every tool I use in my journey, and I like to push the limits of each and every one. In a city like this, everyone is always looking for the next best thing. Foundry is it—and I want to be the one to tell them all about you.

Earlier this month, the National Awareness Director of the Mesothelioma Center (out of Orlando, FL) and the team at Asbestos.com contacted me, asking if I would be interested in a guest post regarding the dangers of working in an asbestos-rich environment, as we are sometimes called upon to do in cities with older construction. The asbestos within may not have been abated properly, and so can still pose a significant risk to firefighters not only making entry for firefighting operations, but for any other purpose that may disturb asbestos still in place. Many thanks to Danielle DiPietro for putting this together, and to Tim Povtak for his writing. It's great to see people reaching out to emergency responders to educate everyone about these dangers!

     —RL

—————

Risk of Asbestos Exposure among Firefighters

Asbestos exposure may not be the first thing on the mind of a firefighter when he arrives on a scene to find a structure going up in flames. But it's something to think about seriously.

Even though asbestos once was widely coveted as a building material for its heat resistance and fire-retardant qualities, it still breaks down under extremely high temperatures, sending its toxic, microscopic fibers into the air, putting everyone nearby at risk.

Although the use of asbestos has been dramatically reduced in recent decades, any buildings or residences built before 1980 are likely to have components of them that contain asbestos it. And the majority of the fires today in homes and businesses are in the older structures.

There is plenty of well-known danger in this admirable profession, but long-term health risks often are not considered when taking this job. An exposure to asbestos can lead to a number of respiratory illnesses, including lung cancer and rare mesothelioma cancer, which can have a latency period of up to 50 years.

Firefighters can be exposed to asbestos in roofing materials, pipe and duct insulation, floor and ceiling tiles, furnace gaskets and vinyl siding. Where there is smoke in the air, there could be asbestos dust and fibers.

These fibers are the danger. When inhaled, they can be difficult for a human body to get rid of. Instead, the fibers can lodge in the lining of the lungs and sit—for years—and eventually cause scarring or tumors.

This is where the use of proper respiratory equipment becomes vital to a fireman.  Equipment used by firefighters through the 1970s, including fire-resistant coats and helmets, often contained asbestos that was woven into the materials.

It isn't just the fires, either, that present the problem. Older firehouses, where firemen often are based, often contain asbestos, unless an official abatement has been done. In Lackawanna, N.Y., for example, firemen had to be evacuated from Fire House 3 when air samples there revealed dangerous amounts of asbestos in the dust they where they reported each day.

The city of Everett, Wash., settled a million dollar lawsuit with firefighters that stemmed from asbestos exposure during training sessions. As part of the training session, firefighters were working in soon-to-be-demolished buildings.

Because no fire was involved in one particular drill, no respiratory equipment was used, but it later was discovered there was plenty of asbestos in the dust within the building.

Much has been made of the firefighters and other first responders who arrived at the World Trade Center soon after the terrorist attacks on 9/11. In the 10-plus years afterward, firefighters now are discovering long-term, respiratory issues that have stemmed from the toxic dust that covered Manhattan for many days.

Bio: Tim Povtak is a senior writer for the Mesothelioma Center. He is a former award-winning journalist at a metropolitan American newspaper.

Last tour, I was fortunate enough to find myself in the middle of a drill with the guys from Rescue 1. Having found "The Bowring Fire Tool" on the internet, they had two of them on loan to play with, and were putting it through its paces. Heralded as "pound-for-pound, the most versatile fire tool ever," we set up a few scenarios and took some pictures and video footage for any interested parties.

According to the website, the functionality of the tool is as follows:

1. 1 1/2" pin lug spanner
2. 2 1/2" pin lug spanner / carabiner attachment
3. oxygen bottle valve wrench
4. "figure-8" section, usable in various rope scenarios
5. hose cradle, usable for 1" to 1 3/4" hose
6. spanner wrench tip
7. gas shut-off wrench
8. carabiner attachment point
9. Storz coupling notch
10. 2", 2 1/2", or 3" hose cradle
11. "RIT FF drag, glass ripper, and mattress hook" (their words, not mine)
12. water shut-off / optional gas shut-off

Our first scenario was the Nance Drill. A firefighter was placed below-grade with an approximately 4'x4' opening above him; a loop of charged hoseline was then inserted into the opening, allowing the "downed" firefighter to stand on the hose and be lifted up by two or more firefighters above him. Pictures do a better job of explaining it than I do, to be honest.

Normally, this difficult aspect of this drill lies in gripping the hoseline effectively while you're trying to lift the firefighter below. The Bowring Tool (utilizing feature #5 above) claims to allow firefighters to easily gain purchase on the hose and bring the downed firefighter up and out of the hole more quickly. We found that it works… sort of. The videos on the website show firefighters demonstrating the tool with a relatively dry hoseline, and it appears to work well. However, we chose to make the situation as close to actual conditions as we could, and soaked the hoseline with water before we attempted the drill; as you'll see in the following videos, the Bowring functioned more as a squeegee than a hose-gripper-thingee, as they claim.

The summary of our findings during the Nance Drill were:

• the hoseline needs to be pretty rigid for the tool to grip effectively. the 1 1/2" hoseline charged to 130 p.s.i. that we started with did not allow the tool's camming action to grip the hose properly—it more bent it than gripped it. Raising the engine pressure to 160 p.s.i. solved the problem.
• the more you can crank back on the tool while pulling, the better; most of the "squeegee" action you see in the videos was due to not bending the Bowring far back enough. It's something that can be learned after you do it a few times, but I wouldn't expect someone who's never used it before to know why this is important.
• a wet hoseline is definitely going to be more slippery than a dry one; unfortunately, your hoselines in these kind of situations will almost always be soaked, and there's no avoiding that. Maybe some knurling or other grippy stuff on the Bowring might help?

Long story short, the tool has its advantages. It's pretty neat that it incorporates multiple different functionalities into something that fits into your coat pocket; however, I'm always wary of the typical downfall of the "all-in-one" tool—it does lots of stuff pretty well, but nothing exceptionally well. The spanner wrenches/valve shut-offs are pretty standard, I wouldn't expect any difficulties there (and the tool appears to be sturdy and well-made). With a bit of practice, one can figure out the correct sequence of pulling/re-setting/pulling that works, but I certainly wouldn't trust someone unfamiliar or unpracticed with the device to use it effectively. Although, practice makes perfect with every tool. I'd be curious to see if it actually rips through drywall and siding as effectively as the testimonials on their website claim; another drill for another day, I suppose.

We did play around to find different uses for it; our most interesting discovery that we could use an uncharged hoseline (say, if we had a hose rack on our shoulder and were still making our way up in a high-rise) hitched through the tool as an effective hauling system for our man in the hole. Quick to set up, and our 1 1/2" hose fit through the largest hole in the Bowline fairly easily without any concern that it would slip or move while in operation. It gave us a large, serviceable hook that we could attach to multiple points on a firefighter in full SCBA.

Some of the Squad guys weren't thrilled about it, but I was fairly impressed. Call me young, or naive, or whatever—but I somewhat liked it. For $125, do you think it's worth it?

Yes, that's right. In D.C., of all places, two engine companies and a truck company extinguished about a half-acre of burning foliage in Southeast Washington earlier this year. Okay, so it wasn't actual wildland firefighting—but it's about as close as we'll get in an urban environment.

There's a big grouping of trees located behind a recreation center that is used more often than not as a dumping ground for stolen automobiles (which then usually end up on fire). Burned out car parts and chunks of rubber are everywhere. When Engine 32 responded for smoke in the area, I'm sure that's what they were expecting; it was surprising, I'm sure, to find out that the woods themselves were on fire this time.

Even just the small amount of shoveling, raking, and cutting that we had to do was pretty exhausting. That wildland stuff is for the birds; tell the guys out west that they can keep it. I'll take hydrants and hoselines over Pulaskis and shovels, thank you.