On the worst—and best—day of my life, I was behind the wheel of a 2,300-gallon water tanker truck heading straight toward the flames of a raging California wildfire.
It was September 11, 2016. The Soberanes Fire was on its way to burning 132,127 acres of rugged mountain wilderness east of the Big Sur coastline. Started by an illegal campfire, the blaze would go on to kill one firefighter, destroy 57 homes and cost more than $260 million to suppress.
I had been hired by a private con-tractor to deliver water to government firefighters on the backcountry fire line. The work was incredibly dangerous. I led a small caravan of two tanker trucks along a narrow, treacherous ridgetop fire road. One false move and my truck, carrying some 18,000 pounds of water, would plunge hundreds of feet to the bottom of a ravine.
I lived for moments like this. I’d been an adventure-seeker all my life. The riskier, the better. Helping fight wildfires was a dream job.
I tried to put out of
