AFTER THE FIRE: ANGELES FOREST

Southern California's chaparral is adapted to fire--or at least to natural cycles of fire. The progression of growth in an ecosystem is called succession. After a fire, with shrubs temporarily knocked back and more sunlight reaching the ground, annual wildflowers proliferate.

Indeed, several species are rare until a fire blows through and cues the seeds to germinate abundantly. I wrote about these fire-following flowers earlier this year for Chance of Rain. I hope you'll read the story.

I've been itching to see some fire-followers and other wildflowers, and check out how the Angeles Forest is regenerating in the wake of the Station Fire. So a couple weeks ago, I coaxed my 3-year-old into the car for a drive in the Angeles. Here's a slide show of what we saw, just from the road.

Thanks to Cliff McLean of the California Native Plant Society, San Gabriel Mountains Chapter for helping me identify the plants. I recommend his CD Field Guide, Common Plants of Eaton Canyon and The San Gabriel Foothills.

The flowers were beautiful, but I was troubled by some things I saw. First, despite many signs instructing people not to leave the road, people are hiking into the burn areas. Please know that if you do, you can tramp weed seeds from roadsides into not-yet infested areas.

The forest is especially vulnerable to weed colonization after a disturbance such as a fire. Weeds are no small matter; they can increase fire cycles to the point native plants can't recover. (Learn more about how human-caused fires threaten Southland ecosystems in my magazine story Sparking The Fires.)

You can see in a couple of the slides above that many weeds grow faster than native shrubs, allowing them to outcompete native plants.

The western stretch of Angeles Crest Highway (the La Canada entrance) is closed. You can access the Angeles through Big Tujunga Canyon, but the forest is closed to use, so stay on the road or face a $5,000 fine.

Click here for a larger version of the slideshow.

And check out this fun video about ecological succession:

Chaparral

As the station fire continues to rage in the Angeles National Forest, I can't help mourning some of my favorite hiking and camping spots. Indeed, some of the family-friendly places mentioned on this blog have either burned or are likely to burn. 

But fire is a natural part of the forest's dominant ecosystem, chaparral. Chaparral consists of large evergreen shrubs such as ceanothus (above), chamise, manzanita, mountain mahogany, and laurel sumac. It often intergrades with sage scrub habitat, characterized by summer deciduous plants such as sages.  

Chaparral shrubs can regenerate after fires. Some resprout from burls or root crowns under the soil, others have seeds that are capable of lying dormant for a century until fire stimulates them to germinate. It's remarkable considering chaparral fires frequently reach temperatures of more than a thousand degrees. "Making them among the hottest fires in any natural environment in the world today," according to Philip Rundel and Robert Gustafson, authors of Introduction to the Plant Life of Southern California.  

"This system is a fire-prone ecosystem," Rick Halsey told KPCC listeners this week on a segment of "AirTalk" I produced.  "Its natural fire return interval is every 50-50 years, so these big fires are natural to the landscape. Not the frequency, because most of these fires are caused by humans. But the size and intensity are perfectly normal. So instead of looking at this thing as a tragedy that could have been prevented, and trying to manipulate the landscape, what we need to do is create communities that are adapted to the landscape rather than forcing the landscape to adapt to us.”  

Halsey leads California Chaparral Institute. The problem, according to Halsey and other fire ecologists, will come if people ignite another fire in the area before the native plants have time to recover. "The trick now is to keep fire out of this fire scar for at least 30 years or so," he said. "At that point the plants and the system are capable of recovering properly. The scary part of this now is often a few years after a fire, weeds get into the area, especially in wind-driven events and you can re-burn areas that already burned only 4 years before. For example the Witch fire in '07 in San Diego County burned 70,000 acres that burned 3 years before." The end result of frequent fires is a diverse landscape native shrubs are replaced by a sea of a few invasive plants, such as non-native annual grasses. 

To learn more about the problem of frequent fires, read my magazine story from last fall called Sparking the Fires. 

Where there's Smoke

We're choking on forest fire smoke here in the LA basin, especially in the San Gabriel Valley, so I thought I'd pass on some health tips. These are especially important for people with respiratory issues and heart problems, the elderly, and children. 

"Take special care to protect children," says Norman Edelman, M.D. and Chief Medical Officer with the American Lung Association (ALA), "They are more susceptible to smoke because their respiratory systems are still developing."

My son is miserable; he's been cooped up for days. We made sure to change the filter in our A/C and are running a HEPA filter air cleaner, as recommended by both the ALA and the LA County Health Department. The health department recommends avoiding A/C units that draw outdoor air, and using a recirculated air setting if you have one. The ALA advises against air cleaners that emit ozone, as they will compound the assault on your lungs. One sign that yours is ozone-generating is the sweet smell it produces. (HEPA filters do not emit ozone.) 

Yes, shut your windows, and don't exercise outdoors.

The American Lung Association says if you're going to use a mask, make sure it's labeled "N95" or "P1000" and comes with two straps for a tight fit. Ordinary masks will filter large particles, but leave you vulnerable to the tiniest particles, which are especially dangerous. 

If you have ash in your home, use a damp cloth to clean it up, not a vacuum, which can send some of the ash flying. 

The Station fire is burning areas that have seen fire in 60 years or so. Since most scientists think the natural fire cycle is 50-150 years, the chaparral should be able to regenerate. However, if another fire returns too soon, it could destroy the ecosystem. It's a serious concern considering the number of human-caused fires we have these days. To learn how increased fire cycles are threatening Southern California ecosystems, check out this magazine piece I wrote last fall: Sparking the Fires

Sparking the Fires

Nature-loving Southern Californians are endangering the landscapes they love
By Ilsa Setziol
Excerpted from Verdugo Monthly

For many people it’s the dream home: a place tucked into the foothills where you can dart out the back door to escape the city. You can clear the smog from your lungs, inhale the spicy-sweet, dusty fragrance of the hillside, and hear the tap, tap, tap of a woodpecker working an oak tree.
But this version of the good life is imperiling some of rarest ecosystems on earth. Southern California is considered a biodiversity hotspot, a place with many unique species that are threatened with extinction. Much of the habitat has been bulldozed and what remains is threatened by another side effect of civilization: fire.
“More people on the landscape has meant more fires,” says Jon Keeley, a research scientist with the U.S. Geological Survey (USGS). “Today we have more fire ignition than we ever had historically. And humans account for 95 to 99 percent of all the fires we see in this region.”
California has the largest so-called “urban-wildland interface”—areas where human habitation cuts into wilderness—in the nation. That means more power lines that can snap, more roadsides where catalytic converters can ignite grasses, more barbeques. No foothill community should consider itself protected.
On a balmy fall morning, botanist Ileene Anderson of the Center for Biological Diversity hikes a section of the Verdugo Mountains near Burbank. She notes that two important plant communities intermingle there: evergreen shrubs collectively known as chaparral, and an even rarer group called coastal sage scrub. “Coastal sage scrub used to be widespread, but it’s now one of our most imperiled habitats,” she says. “Because it grows in desirable foothill areas, it’s been heavily impacted by development.” Anderson points out some characteristic plants: fragrant purple and white sages; buckwheat still displaying dried, rust-red blossoms; and the yellow daisies of California brittlebush.
Examining a hillside that burned a few years back, Anderson is pleased to see new growth sprouting from the base of charred shrubs. “But if they burn again in a few years it will set them back; there will be less energy in the root mass for them to resprout,” she says. “The natural fire rate here is estimated at once every 50 to 120 years. If fires burn every 20 years, it could eliminate them.” Especially vulnerable are plants that regenerate primarily by seed, such as California lilac (Ceanothus). “If the young plants are killed before they drop enough seeds, ultimately no seeds are left to produce future generations,” says Anderson.
Frequent fires will benefit some plants. “What’s going to come back are invasive annual weeds,” says Rick Halsey, director of the California Chaparral Institute. “You’ll get acres of grasses.” He notes with chagrin that these non-natives are highly flammable.
Biologists are beginning to document swaths of southern California that have been converted from native shrublands to fields of Mediterranean grasses and other weeds. These new landscapes aren’t good habitat for wildlife, and they’re vulnerable to erosion.
So Jon Keeley of the USGS was alarmed to learn that, in San Diego County alone, 60,000 to 70,000 acres that were torched in 2003 had burned again last fall.
If you’re an outdoorsy type and inclined to reading the interpretive signs at parks, we’ve probably just confused you. Haven’t those rangers been telling people that forests need more fire? Indeed, in many parts of the American West—especially conifer forests, such as the one around Lake Arrowhead—people have been all too successful at suppressing natural fires. It’s sparked a different ecological problem: overstocked forests of dry bark-beetle-infested trees. For most of the Southland, though, the challenge is too many human-caused fires.
If you’re not discouraged already, contemplate this: Scientists expect global warming to exacerbate the problem. They project that warming temperatures will increase the frequency and severity of fires in the American West. Some say it’s already happening.
Biologist Mike Allen of UC Riverside studies how ecosystems respond to human interference. Much of his research is conducted at the James Reserve near Idyllwild, a graceful spot where wild azaleas and rare lemon lilies bloom alongside a small creek. Western Bluebirds flit among ponderosa pines. Allen says the destruction of native plant communities isn’t just an aesthetic issue. “It’s really a loss of a functioning system that cleans the air and water, and provides food.” He says fire, combined with development, pollution, and invasive species, is putting tremendous stress on local habitats. His big worry is a tipping point: “Ecosystems collapse in nonlinear ways. It’s one of those Jenga things. You can pull out pieces, but all of a sudden you pull out the last piece, and the whole thing tumbles quickly.”
Many scientists say projected population growth is the looming threat—for wildlands and the people who live near them. Already, says Keeley, “Population growth has outstripped the ability of firefighters to protect people.”
Keeley recommends joining a local chapter of the Fire Safe Council. “Homeowners need to think ahead of time, to ensure their community has sufficient [brush] clearance to reduce the likelihood flames will move in. But they need to be aware that’s not enough. In San Diego they cleared. All clearance gets you is reduced fuels to allow firefighters to get in. But often there aren’t enough firefighters.” Strong winds can make it impossible to stop a fire, and new developments are often built on steeper—more dangerous—terrain.
Keeley says municipal planners should be much more conservative about where they permit new development. Halsey agrees: “The [2006] Esperanza fire: That house [where four firefighters died] should never have been built. At the top of steep canyons you get unstoppable waves of fire. The houses literally blow up.” Halsey watched the recent Witch fire in San Diego County devour his neighbors’ homes, narrowly sparing his. He says the fire didn’t die down until the wind ceased.
The Glendale Fire Department has these tips for homeowners: make sure your sprinklers are working, remove weeds and cut grass regularly, dispose of dead vegetation, and don’t place plants too close to structures or eaves. Also, store flammable liquids with care, clear debris from your roof, and create a home escape plan.
Still, making a home safer doesn’t erase its environmental footprint. In the Verdugos, botanist Ileene Anderson strode down a fire road, hopped into her little yellow truck, and headed west along Sunset Canyon Drive. She stopped to check out a cluster of stucco houses perched on a steep ridge. Homeowners had diligently cleared vegetation, leaving only a few buckwheat and Lauren sumac plants. “There’s nothing natural except a few token species that have been able to survive,” she laments. “Brush clearance definitely creates an ecological problem. So do firebreaks; they are highways for invasive plants. Sadly, if you value proximity to the natural world, you have to blitz what you sought to be near.”