I wrote a piece a while back about a job I had in Phoenix. My daughter liked it and asked for more. These are factionalized accounts of just stuff I've done. Today's we are going to San Diego.
Just another job.
Just another job.
You tried to get out before the sun was up. Taking your break around ten and finishing up before the sun became unbearable at around three. Unless you were broke. Then you worked the job straight on until it was done. Usually using the clients fifty percent deposit on food and drinks and ice. Lots of ice. You couldn't spend much of the deposit. You needed to have fuel and dump fees to finish the job. But there was enough room for essential supplies.
Brush clearing. Not the half assed, lazy, oh look I have a chainsaw, brush clearing done by W. But clearing all vegetation to the ground for a minimum distance of eight feet from the property line and all trees and structures. And in most places that hired out someone else to complete the job it was not only chaparral but on slopes not walkable due to extreme angles and loose soil. Occasionally you would get pepper trees or eucalyptus or palms that although sticky and dangerous in its unpredictability were more of an annoyance if not seen as a break from the routine.
But for the most part California sage, manzanita, sumac, rosemary, mustard, bougainvillea, various cacti but mostly prickly pear. But not ground hugging shrubs in most cases. But walls of bushes twelve to fifteen feet high dense and impenetrable, except for rabbits who even then leave clearly defined trails and tunnels through the shrubs. And if there are rabbits there are rattle snakes. Loppers and shovels were kept at hand. But I had a major rattlesnake scare as a youngster so I tend to flee at the first sign of a rattle. The snakes just want to get away as you are removing their homes though.
Normal Heights looks over Mission Valley in a series of corrugated hills. A mesa maze above the valley. The hills drop off steeply, I'm told an inland sea covered the region for eons. So tidal lapping ate the sides of these ranges until they were virtually vertical. In the geologist's grab bag soil composition you can see rocks and stones polished smooth, their hues running the spectrum of the rainbow. The soil was loose. With the exception of pockets of clay that were dense, dry, and dusty most of the year, but deadly slick when winter wetted them. Occasional boulders, the smaller ones long lost their battle with gravity, the survivors; the size of Volkswagens and courthouses. But don't assume the larger boulders will stay put. Using them as an anchor point is ill advised.
Ropes in a simple harness and tied originally to a tree or fence post in the clients yard. Later to be attached to more reliable chaparral stumps. Finding the property line you try to visually site the cut you are going to make into the chaparral. Sometimes you lay a rope along it as the plants can make perspective from the ground disorienting. If you could reach the base of the giant shrubs you began with the loppers slicing away at branches that don't require direct cutting. The sumac came down in wet switches the loppers gumming up in the sap. Creosote and sage usually with dry snaps as the branches are more stingy in their water use. Alternating sometimes could keep the blades clean but older shrubs would have long strands of papery bark that would adhere itself to the sap, necessitating finding a rock or shovel to scrape the mess off of them.
Some plants are readily pulled from the loose soil. The invasive Russian thistle aka: tumbleweed, mustard, edible sages... But soil that loose holds other secrets. Sometimes removing a single twelve inch high plant will bring the three cubic yards of soil you are standing on down the slope in a landslide. Other times removing vegetation uncovers unexploded munitions from the Navy's early aircraft training, or and occasional piece of aircraft aluminum. Usually not bigger than your hand, but on occasion, strips feet long. The aluminum twisted, stretched, charred and shredded in whatever fiery crash left the relic in the soil. Because of the dangers in accessing the steep slopes the normal buildup of human detritus is curtailed. The odd beer can might make it down the slope if the can was full enough when tossed. The convective winds keep the lighter cans from floating too far.
The occasional automobile could be found hidden on the slopes as well. Salvageable parts stripped from the carcass years ago. Usually with the plants intertwined with the slowly rusting steel. Most wedged into small canyons keeping them from progressing further down the slope. Any attempt to remove them is fraught with danger. The cable truck above could very well join the automotive carcass on the slope if the earth decides the weight is too much to bear. Pulling the wreck from the bottom of the slope will bring not only a mangled steel pinball upon the pullers and all below but rocks and soil dislodged from its travels. So the only time a discovery goes beyond the homeowner is when the fire department is called to pick up the Navy's explosive trash.
After cutting away and removing the smaller branches with hand tools. A chainsaw is lowered down on a rope and the plant is taken down to its base. Some clients want the roots removed as well but that is discouraged with larger growths due to the size of their root system and fragility of the slopes.
Once the larger bushes are cut down their branches need to be removed. Bundling them with ropes into mats up to three hundred pounds they are drug up the slope hand over hand. Sometimes a come along is used if the slope is too steep and slide prone. Into the truck they go. After the larger shrubs are cleared there still is the issue of groundcover, hoes and mattocks to scrape all vegetation down to the dirt. The resulting chaff stuffed into trash cans dangled down the slope on a line to remove it from the fire break. And into the truck that goes.
But now the homeowner has uncovered soil completely around property prone to erosion. Iceplant is a succulent that grows well in Southern California, taking in the morning humidity through osmosis and the preference for spreading out along slopes makes them ideal for groundcover where mortals fear to tread. So either handfuls of starters are simply snapped from existing plants in their yard or they are procured commercially. Installation is easy. Poke a hole, insert the open end of the plant into the dirt. Water them about once a week till they take off. Growth is inevitable, and attrition is parable to transplanting potted plants. But they inhibit regrowth of plants subject to incineration. And their natural moistness make them themselves resistant to fire.
For those unfamiliar with the area. There is video of fire in chaparral:
When you hear of crews making fire breaks or trying to surround a fire what I described above is what they are doing. But with no breaks, in heavy clothing and with flames a hundred feet high racing toward them at hundreds of miles an hour. They are true heroes.