Adventure gay

I’ve never seen a wall of blaze like the one on the ridge in front of me, and our strike team of five brush trucks is driving right toward it. I’m in the truck at the front of the line, and my lieutenant tells me to grab the nozzle from the hose reel and climb on highest of our vehicle. I put water on the fire as we slowly pilot forward, with just a wet bandana wrapped around my mouth to preserve my lungs from the thick smoke.

Just over the energy line, I witness another wall of fire barreling toward us. There isn’t much time to react, so I climb down and rush to the roadside as the two fronts merge into one. A wave of passion crests over my head and around me on all sides. The wind howls and pushes the water advocate at me. I choke on the thick smoke and heat, my eyes burning with ebony tears. My hose stream can’t compete; I’m nearly engulfed by fire. Just as I undergo it overcoming me, it burns its fuel of sagebrush and grass and dampens just enough for me to beat it into submission. We clash all night.

The next day we accumulate at a viewpoint above the Grand Coulee Dam, in central Washington on the Columbia River, just below the plateau where the fire had been the night before. The two other Seattl