Real Survival Stories - Canoeing Trip Wildfire: Inferno in Paradise

Episode Date: September 6, 2023

A couple’s serene vacation is thrown into chaos by a terrifying wildfire. Julie & Greg Welch are oblivious as they paddle deep into nature and far away from civilisation. Soon they will find themselves surrounded by a 20-foot wall of flames. With daylight disappearing and smoke filling the air, they’ll need a miracle to make it out alive… A Noiser production, written by Susan Allott. For ad-free listening, exclusive content and early access to new episodes, join Noiser+. Click the Noiser+ banner to get started with a 7-day free trial. Or, if you’re on Spotify or Android, go to noiser.com/subscriptions. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

TD Direct Investing offers live support, so whether you're a newbie or a seasoned pro, you can make your investing steps count. And if you're like me and think a TFSA stands for Total Fund Savings Adventure, maybe reach out to TD Direct Investing. It's early afternoon on Monday, September the 12th, 2011, in northern Minnesota, USA. Greg and Julie Welch set up camp on a grassy bank at the edge of Lake Quazishan. They are in the remote and beautiful Boundary Waters area of Superior National Forest, close to the Canadian border. The couple have spent the day kayaking through the still, clear lakes and riverways that crisscross this ancient woodland. Now they're ready to sit back, relax, and enjoy

well-earned rest. Amidst the birdsong and the gentle lapping of the water, what better place to cherish the peace and quiet? It's just the two of them, miles from civilization. But despite the serene setting, something still troubles them, a nagging concern that won't go away. Since they set off, Julie and Greg have had one eye fixed on the horizon. They've been watching the dark plume of smoke that hangs ominously over the distant forest. The Pagami Creek Fire. They know it's nothing to worry about. Forest fires aren't uncommon.

This one is 15 miles to the northwest and has been under control for weeks. The park rangers themselves have assured them it's all okay but as greg and julie potter about their camp they can smell the smoke julie's eyes start to itch greg tries to ignore the burning sensation in his throat and the wind has picked up, too. Unable to shift the uneasy feeling, Greg tells Julie to wait by the tent while he goes to take a look. So Greg said, you know, I'll tell you what, I'm going to get in the canoe, go over to the river so I can look upstream further than what we could see from sitting in our campsite. And so he took off, did that. Greg paddles hard upriver.

He can no longer hear birdsong or anything else now other than a low, ominous rumbling noise, like a freeway at rush hour. When I crested the mouth of the river, now I could see, visually, I could see towards the west, and that's when I knew myself that we had a really really major you know situation on our hands back at the water's edge Julie stands waiting for Greg she too can now hear the same rumbling drone I'm standing there and all of a sudden I start hearing in the woods, it sounded like trees

falling a little bit of a distance away. At that very moment it hit me. I was like, that's the fire. I was terrified at that point. I knew it was fire coming and I kind of had this intuition that it was coming fast. Ever wondered what you would do when disaster strikes? If your life depended on your next decision, could you make the right choice? Welcome to Real Survival Stories.

These are the astonishing tales of ordinary people thrown into extraordinary situations. People suddenly forced to fight for their lives. In this episode, we meet the Welches, the couple from Michigan who took a vacation seeking peace and tranquility and found anything but. Caught in the grip of a natural disaster, a wildfire that will defy all expectations, they will need a miracle to make it out alive. There were, you know, burning embers coming sideways at us through the wind. It was insane. When we looked around, the entire lake was on fire, 360 degrees of, all you could see was black and fire.

And at that point, I really thought we were done for. I'm John Hopkins from Noisa. This is Real Survival Stories. It's September the 10th, 2011, and Greg and Julie Welch are driving up Highway 61. They're embarking on their annual trip to the Boundary Waters in Minnesota. A married couple in their 40s, Greg and Julie's life is happy, but hectic. Their family-run business, building docks and jetties for country cabins, is always busy and often stressful. But it appeals to their love of the outdoors and their passion for water sports

outside of work their two teenage daughters aged 15 and 18 keep their hands full but every year they carve out some time just for themselves they leave their girls with family and head off to their favorite place on earth. We have been going to the Boundary Waters together for about 25 years. So we started going there when we were dating, and we continue to use the area kind of on an annual basis. And so we've done a lot of exploring in the Boundary Waters over the years. Boundary Waters is famous for its outstanding natural beauty. A million acres of pure wilderness stretching for 150 miles along the U.S.-Canadian border. Over a thousand lakes and hundreds of miles of rivers and streams set within dense, lush forest. It's an area we like partly because it's a wilderness area,

so there are no cabins or docks or boats. They allow canoe access only or kayak access only, so it's kind of a truly remote area. Once they get there, they'll have no cell phone service, no Wi-Fi, no contact at all with the outside world. So you're really away from everything and it's truly a vacation where, you know, we go on vacation other places too and of course work can still call you and all that kind of stuff. So that's what we like about the Boundary Waters,

is that it truly is an escape from reality and you're in nature and it's just beautiful. This unique and delicate ecosystem is managed by a team of experienced forest rangers. It's also the ranger's job to keep a close eye on the weather and to ensure the park is safe for those who visit. Which is just as well, because the long, dry summer of 2011 has brought its own problems to the area. In driving up the highway, we were experiencing some smoke and some ash on the windshield of the car, and so we kind of suspected that there was something going on. So when we got to the ranger station, they said that there was a fire that had been started by

lightning. They wanted to know where specifically we were going because there were certain areas they weren't allowing people. The Pagami Creek fire has been burning for several weeks already. A lightning strike on August the 18th started a blaze in a small, dried-out bog nearly 20 miles to the northwest. It had been burning slowly until two days ago when it flared up. Prior to us getting there, like the day before, the fire had started to move a little more aggressively. The area we were planning on going into was not an area that they thought the fire would ever get to.

They really thought that it would never move that far, you know, in any short period of time. So there wasn't a real large concern from the ranger, but he was interested in where we were going. At the ranger station, Greg and Julie present their route plan. A ten-day journey, heading northeast, taking in several remote lakes and campsites. The ranger nods and gives them the all clear. Wildfires are a common and natural occurrence.

The policy in Superior National Forest, which includes the Boundary Waters, is to contain and control these blazes while they're still small. That's precisely what's being done right now. Greg glances up at the sky. From where they're standing, it's clear and blue. There's no smoke or ash in the air now, not that they can see. It's a sunny September day, perfect conditions for kayaking. The skies have been clear of rain clouds pretty much all summer. In fact, 2011 will turn out to be the driest fall for 140 years. Naturally, these arid conditions have increased the risk of wildfires, but the authorities still

have faith in their forecasts. As well as the park rangers, forestry experts, meteorologists, and the local fire departments have all weighed in. They've even run thousands of computer simulations, all of which say the same thing. The fire will stay where it is. And in any case, it's finally due to rain in the coming days, which should help extinguish the burn. Greg and Julie leave the ranger station feeling reassured. It's been controlled burning in a certain area. We don't have any fear that it's going to get to where you're going. Just, you know, stick to your path and don't head towards the fire, obviously, and you should be fine. And if not, we'll send somebody in to get you. And that's the last thing I remember was, we'll send somebody to get you. They load up their kayaks and set off.

Their oars splash rhythmically. The stresses of daily life start to fall away. Occasionally they take breaks just to soak up the beauty of their surroundings. The calming scent of pine, fir and spruce. Birds calling from the trees. Buzzing insects skimming over the water. Everything is just perfect. So we're paddling through these beautiful forest lakes and down streams where you would see cattails and beautiful lily pads blooming.

It's almost surreal. It's such a beautiful area. And that particular day was absolutely gorgeous. There's eagles, there's loons, some different fowl, you know, things to look at and see. But it's a very peaceful, you know, feeling, because you're heading away from civilization, if you will. As their first afternoon draws to a close, Julie and Greg set up camp on the edge of a large lake. It was a very nice, warm, quiet evening. I think we had some dehydrated food,

and we actually had half of a cherry pie that we had bought at one of the restaurants on the way in. We just kind of hung out and had a fire and just sat down, enjoyed ourselves, and went to bed, you know, fairly early. So, yeah, that was just a pretty normal, you know, hanging out and enjoying ourselves kind of thing. It's early morning on September 12, 2011. Greg and Julie wake to the light patter of rain.

Outside the tent, a cool mist rolls in off the lake. Hardly fire-friendly conditions. They decide to sleep in and wait for the clouds to pass. By 9 am they're sitting in full sunshine, eating breakfast. It's another fine day. They pack up and set off on the second leg of their journey. They've a long way to go to get to Lake Polly, today's destination. It's much more remote and further away from day trippers. But as their kayaks cut through the dark,

mineral-rich waters, they can't help but notice a change in the air. The only thing we did notice that morning as we were heading north was in the sky, there was a very large, it looked like a cumulus-type cloud, but it was very impressive. It was all by itself. The sky was very clear.

The sun was out. It was warm. And kind of in the middle of all that in the sky was this really large cloud. They figure it must be the Pagami Creek fire. It's still far off in the distance, although judging by the cloud, it's bigger than the day before. Greg isn't overly worried, but Julie can't help thinking that they're a long way from help with something to go wrong.

As the day stretches on, they row across Lake Kwasashan. To reach Lake Polly, they must complete this six-mile stretch up along the shoreline. And then there'll be a long hike, carrying their kayaks overland, a portage. But they're in no particular rush. They agree to cut the day short. We decided, you know what, let's be lazy. Let's set up camp here and we'll do the long portage first thing in the morning. So we didn't make it to our favorite lake, Lake Polly, that we always like to get to by second night. And in this case, it was actually a good thing because we would have died, I think, on that portage. Choose from hundreds of top podcasts offering host endorsements or run a pre-produced ad like this one across thousands of shows to reach your target audience with Libsyn ads.

Email bob at libsyn.com to learn more. That's B-O-B at L-I-B-S-Y-N dot com. Disembarking their kayaks, Greg and Julie make their way up to the northwest shore of Lake Quasishaw. They pitch their tent on top of a steep, raised bank, 25 feet high, overlooking the water. They unpack the food they've brought with them, sit back, and try to relax. But Julie can't relax. Her mind keeps returning to the fire. At around 3 o'clock, the wind picks up, and with it comes the unmistakable smell of smoke.

We noticed that it was getting a little smoky. In fact, it was bothering my eyes, so I had taken out my contacts, put my glasses on, and then, you know, the longer we sat there, the smokier it got. Greg does his best to reassure Julie, but he's also beginning to worry. The woods there are so dense that you can't see anywhere beyond the trees. So there's no way to get a good look at anything unless you're out in a lake itself. So we talked about it, had a little conversation, made a couple jokes about, you know, we'd see wild animals running across us trying to get in the lake if there really was a fire.

Come to think of it, where are all the animal sounds they would normally hear by the lake? It suddenly seems eerily quiet. The wind rustles the dry pine branches overhead. A solitary bird calls out from across the lake, ominous, like a warning. The birch trees have a surreal, otherworldly look to them, almost as if they're glowing. A keen photographer, Greg reaches for his camera and takes a picture. With our eyes looking at the sky as we were standing there, all we could see was just a somewhat smoky sky.

What the camera saw, however, was picked up these real large orange streaks that were actually in the sky. And not only over the lake, but when I took a picture back towards the west, the whole horizon was lit up with these orange highlights that were in the sky. It's the middle of the day, but still, there is no mistaking the distinctly fiery glow on the horizon like a blazing sunset. They need to figure out what's going on, and so Greg heads down to the edge of the lake. He paddles fast towards the mouth of the river.

He has to work hard to pick up speed, fighting a headwind that's growing stronger. The smoke is getting thicker too, burning Greg's nose and eyes. The fire must be closer than they thought. But how close? Ten miles away? Five? Rounding the mouth of the river, Greg sees the stark truth of it. The fire is horrifyingly close, a mile away at most. The tall pine trees are a red, raging mass of flame, whipping up and out across the lake, sending black smoke billowing into the sky. It was just an enormous fire with flames that were, you know, way up in the treetops.

They were even blowing above the treetops. The flames were blowing actually horizontally, which I could actually see them blowing horizontally, even a mile away. And it was, you know, at that point, I knew that this thing was heading our way. Greg is probably safe out here in the middle of the lake, but Julie is still back where he left her,

waiting by the tent. You know, still back where he left her, waiting by the tent. You know, first thing I thought about was, oh my God, she's still on land and, you know, that's not a good place to be, right? So I started heading back and, you know, I'm kind of yelling at her as I'm heading back. Back at camp, Julie doesn't need Greg to tell her what's going on. She can hear it now for herself. The terrifying sound is unmistakable, and it's getting louder. By the time Greg comes hurtling back down the river,

Julie is already packing their bags, getting ready to go. And so I actually was shaking so bad at that point that I couldn't even buckle the buckles on the dry bags. So I just started throwing bags over the hill. And Greg came back about that point, and he says, we need to get the heck out of here. That's the fire. Greg leaps out of his kayak and notices a problem. Julie's not wearing her life jacket.

Greg, you know, says, where's your life jacket? I said, oh, it's up in the tent. So he said, well, I'll run up and get it. And so I continued to try and shove bags into the boat, got the boat into the water. I was kind of knee deep, one leg in the boat, one leg on rocks underneath of me and waiting for Greg to bring my life jacket back. And he did. He brought it back, tossed it to me, and said, get the heck out of here. She barely has time to put her life jacket on as the fire bursts out of the tree line, flames devouring the woodland beside their camp. Wading into the shallows, Julie pushes off into the lake.

After a few strokes of her paddle, she turns around, expecting Greg to be close behind. But all she sees is a maelstrom of fire and smoke. I pushed off with my foot, sat down in my boat, and it was at that moment that it was really bizarre. It was like the fire enveloped us. It became completely black. I couldn't see anything. I turned around to see if Greg was behind me, and I couldn't see anything. All I saw was flames shooting out over the lake, over top of my head.

And so at that moment, I panicked, because I thought Greg got swallowed by the fire. Back on the shore, for a moment, Greg stands motionless, his hands raised helplessly against the blistering heat. So at that point, I'm terrified at what was going on around me. It was happening so fast that your brain just doesn't have time to process it properly. He stumbles down towards the water and gropes for his kayak

in the scorching, suffocating darkness. The flames were literally shooting over my head and out in the lake. It was very hot. I could really feel the heat. And of course, my immediate desire was to get off land, which is exactly what I did. Greg feels the plastic hull of his kayak.

He leaps in and pushes off, the flames licking at his heels. On this sunny September afternoon, the sky is now pitch black. Greg can't see anything, least of all Julie. But he can hear her, screaming. She's off in the distance far enough that the smoke has completely covered her up so I can't see her. It was so loud at that point that it was just hard to hear each other.

It got so dark that it was like, you know, midnight out in the country without any lights. The lack of daylight isn't the only sudden change. The raging inferno is sucking all the oxygen out of the air. This is creating a wind that in turn is sending waves crashing across the water. Greg shouts to Julie in the darkness. Then as the smoke briefly parts, he catches a glimpse of her.

And at that point, we could actually see each other. And then I watched the wind. It actually, it was so strong that it actually pushed her kayak sideways, kind of across the waves instead of with the waves. And it was pushing her so violently that it actually, when she crested one of the waves, it actually picked the boat up out of the water a little ways, maybe a couple of feet. And the boat flipped over and she dropped back down into the water. Greg watches on as Julie's kayak flips end over end in a somersault, throwing her up and out into the lake.

She disappears under the waves. Eventually, she reemerges. Greg can just about see the orange flash of her life jacket. Thank goodness he went back for it. Greg tries with all his might to paddle towards her. The wind was so strong, however, that I couldn't make it to her. I was being pushed away from her, and there was literally nothing I could do about it. As hard as I could paddle, I just could not change the fact that I couldn't head her direction.

Greg sees Julie go under again, struggling to breathe as she resurfaces. He makes a split-second decision. I didn't really think about it, I guess, but I decided to roll out of the kayak into the water to stop myself from moving any farther away from her. So I rolled out of the kayak and I still hung on to the kayak knowing that we needed something out there with us besides ourselves. So I hung on onto the boat. The freezing water stuns him, but Greg forces himself to start swimming. Holding onto the boat with one hand, he battles against the swell. Julie fights to keep her head above water as wave after wave crashes over her. Each time she tries to take in a breath,

her lungs are filled with smoke. The wind in the fire was so loud that we couldn't even hear each other screaming at each other. I was screaming at him top of my lungs, he was screaming at me top of his lungs. We couldn't hear each other. I just started trying to swim towards Greg and, you know, it was difficult in the waves. At last, Julie feels Greg's arm against hers in the water. She can just about make out his

face through the haze. He guides her to the side of his kayak. Together, they cling on for dear life. We couldn't get back in the boat because of the waves, so we decided it'd be best to just hang on. And so we started hanging on and taking the waves and the wind. There's no escape. Through gaps in the smoke, they can see trees exploding into flames on all sides of the lake. There were, you know, burning embers coming sideways at us through the wind. It was insane. And at that point, when we looked around, the entire lake was on fire, 360 degrees.

All you could see was black and fire. And at that point, I really thought we were done for. I didn't think we were going to make it at that point. All they can do is tread water. But there's one thing that focuses their minds on survival that tells them they must somehow find a way out of this. And I just kept saying to Greg over and over again, we got to get home to the girls. We got to get home to the girls. We got to figure out what we're going to do here because we got to get home to the girls, especially the youngest, you know, that'd be a hard time to lose both your parents at 15 years old.

You know, we basically just made a decision together that we just weren't going to give up. So that was, you know, kind of a moment of reality for us that, you know, we were going to fight this thing out and do what we can. It's almost 4 o'clock. Greg and Julie have been in the water for about 45 minutes. They use a fleece to cover their mouths, trying to filter out the burning ash. Periodically, they dip their heads under the surface to clear the smoke from their eyes. The lake may have spared them from the fire, but it won't keep them safe for long.

The spring-fed water is ice cold. Dressed in just shorts and t-shirts, both Julie and Greg are shivering violently. Then I started getting like hypothermia. I couldn't hold on to the boat anymore because my fingers were so stiff. And so Greg helped me

wrap the bungee strap around my wrist that's on the front of the kayak so that I wouldn't lose grip of the kayak because it was so windy and so wavy

and so cold that you just couldn't even hang on their bodies are beginning to shut down fatigue is overwhelming them their limbs are becoming numb and heavy soon they can barely tread water and now greg and julie are forced into an impossible choice bl Blistering heat or bone-chilling cold. Fire or water. We just decided at that point in time,

because of the hypothermia threat, that we needed to head towards that shoreline. So that's what we started doing. Once again, they are confronted by the bank of flames that stretches along the shoreline. But then, Greg sees something. A solid mass just a few feet ahead. They've stumbled into a rocky outcrop

jutting up out of the shallows. We were gonna get up on top of those rocks instead of actually going all the way to the shore. So I hopped up on the rock and then pulled Julie and the kayak up on the rock. And so now we were up out of the water, but not on shore. They're lucky to be on dry land of sorts, but the fire is showing no signs of abating. It's only a matter of time till they succumb to the smoke. Then something extraordinary happens. Something miraculous.

Just a couple really loud crashes of thunder, like the ones that shake your house kind of thunder. And immediately after that thunder, it started raining. But it wasn't your ordinary rain. It was really, really intense. And it didn't start slow. It started hard. It was kind of like somebody pouring buckets of water over you. It was just an amazing amount of water coming down. See, I've never seen it rain so hard in my life. And then the next, you know, two minutes, it starts hailing, big nickel-sized hail, you know, burned and stung when it hit you. In an incredible twist of fate, the fire itself has created the conditions that will now dampen it. As the flames licked through the forest, moisture contained in the vegetation was vaporized and carried up into the sky, forming the smoke plume overhead.

The higher the smoke has risen into the atmosphere, the more rapidly it has cooled. Now all that moisture is condensing, forming rain clouds. It has created a localized thunderstorm of epic proportions. Lightning rips through the pitch black sky and the rain continues to torrent down. The violent downpour feels truly biblical, like a genuine miracle. It's bewildering and terrifying. You know, looking back on it, it saved our butts. I mean, if it hadn't happened, it's hard to say if we would have, you know, lasted a lot longer with all the smoke or not. Actually, for me, it wasn't a miracle.

I was thinking it was Armageddon. This was it. This is the end of the actual world because it was just so bizarre that, you know, we live through this inferno and then all of a sudden it's pouring buckets of rain and then it's hailing nickel-sized hail on us. So I'm thinking, okay, this wasn't a forest fire.

This is the end of the world. I'm still thinking we're going to die at this point. Then, just as suddenly as it started, the rain stops. The blackness just went away instantly. And the sun came back out and it's, you know, warm and beautiful again. And Greg's standing on the rock, jumping up and down, screaming like, we made it, we made it. The storm has extinguished the fire and saved their lives. Now this hellish nightmare could really be over.

It was the most amazing thing because it just, everything stopped. It was incredible. You know, the fire was out, the noise stopped, the wind calmed down, the smoke went away, and the sun was back out. It was like crazy. Your brain just could not, you know, it was just, it was crazy. As the smoke clears, they look around from their position, perched on the rocky outcrop in the shallows.

In every direction, there is nothing but blackened trees stripped of their leaves. The place Julie and Greg have visited for 25 years is barely recognizable. The dense, lush forest is all but gone. Hopping between the rocks, they manage to get to the shoreline. As afternoon turns to evening, they try to make sense of their situation. So now it's getting dark. Now we're pushing, you know, that 6 o'clock hour, and the sun's starting to go down.

We're hungry. We're thirsty. We're not going to get out of that area that evening. It was just not going to happen. So we decided to basically make what we could for a camp. As the sun goes down, Greg wanders along the lake's edge. Julie's kayak and some of her drybacks have washed up on shore. Even while fleeing their camp, they had both had the presence of mind to grab enough kit to survive another night in the wilderness. They can bed down on the inflatable mattresses Greg had salvaged from their smoke-filled tent, and another of the recovered bags even contains food.

And so they sit there in their makeshift camp, eating the leftover cherry pie. We pretty much stayed up most of the night. We didn't get a lot of sleep. It was kind of spooky when it got dark because the ground was glowing red. All the fire, you know, got into the ground and that whole area. So the whole edge of the lake was glowing red in the evening. It was really kind of surreal looking. So we were kind of on, you know, alert pretty much all night. As soon as the sun came up in the morning, we wanted to get out of there. At first light, Greg and Julie load up their kayaks and begin the return journey.

They row past mile after mile of charred trees burnt down to their stumps. Neither of them vocalizes it, but they're also scanning the debris for evidence of human remains. Surely they weren't the only ones caught up in the blaze. We made it through the second lake back, and once we got to the southern edge of that lake, we could tell that there was no more burn at that point. So that was kind of the edge of the fire line and when we made it back to the lake where we

started from that lake had not been burned up at all it was still green and lush it was interesting when we entered that lake there was a there was a few Blackhawk helicopters that were flying really low, coming over the lake, and they were probably out looking for people, is my guess. Greg and Julie don't encounter anyone until they get all the way back to the parking lot. The first person they see is the same forest ranger who had told them, before they set set off that the fire was under control. When we got to the parking lot, there was actually a ranger right there taking names because they had obviously known who all was out in the woods. And so they were checking people off as they were coming back in.

So that was, you know, just a huge relief to see that ranger standing there waiting for us. And I think the first thing I said to him was, I thought you were going to come and get us. Which apparently we learned afterwards. They did drop some firefighters in trying to clear people, but they just couldn't make it to us because the smoke was so bad. They learn from the ranger that the blaze has burned across an area of 80,000 acres in a single day, growing into the largest forest fire ever recorded in the region. It had spread 16 miles in just a few hours. Teams of rescuers had managed to evacuate many campers, some mere moments before disaster struck. Remarkably, nobody died.

There were a number of reasons the forecasts and models failed to predict the sudden expansion of the Pagami Creek fire. On September 12, three weeks after the fire began, the humidity had dropped rapidly. This was coupled with an unstable mass of air that had formed over the area. Together, these factors triggered 20-mile-an-hour winds that acted like a bellows, fanning the flames and urging them forwards. The other key element was historic land management. For decades, the Forest Service had had a policy of containing fires to small areas. But in the absence of bigger burns, the superior national forest had grown almost unchecked by nature for over a century, until it was ripe for a catastrophic wildfire to explode into life. And finally, that had happened on the driest day for 140 years.

Greg still loves the boundary waters of northern Minnesota as much as ever. He didn't stay away for long. I like the boundary waters I always have. And, you know, I think if nothing else, we're more prepared now for a fire. We know more than we ever did before about what to expect. Julie takes a slightly different view. So when we go up there now, I'm actually a little bit anxious. When the wind blows, sometimes sunsets will get me.

I'll nudge Greg and say, look at that, is that a fire? And he's, you know, no, that's just a sunset. There has been a policy change in the years since 2011. Authorities now allow fires to burn over bigger areas, creating a patchwork of differently aged forest. The thinking is that this will be far more resistant to future blazes. And new protocols are in place.

There's a renewed focus on keeping visitors to the boundary waters safe from harm. Here's hoping. In the next episode, we meet Greg Rasmussen, a wildlife conservationist dedicated to protecting endangered species in Africa. But when he crash-lands his plane deep in the Zimbabwean bush, he'll become a prisoner in the very landscape he strives to preserve. Locked in a tortuous mental battle, Greg must also overcome life-threatening injuries, searing heat, and the constant threat of hungry predators. That's next time on Real Survival Stories. real survival stories.