Leggit Cup Trench

by Rand Snyder

It’s easy to take simple things for granted. Take for example, that moment when you take a break from your efforts and you can step back, breathe a sigh of relief, and admire your creation. Although at this particular moment, I physically lacked the ability to take a proper “step back,” since I was sidestepped on an extremely steep gravelly slope – mentally calculated at over 100 percent –  still, this moment, shared collectively by the squad, was taken to admire our cup trench, lovingly cut into the decaying granite on the side of this Idaho mountainside. Adding to my sense of satisfaction was the fact that this was my first cup trench, besides the one I’d cut into another, gentler Idaho hillside during training two months previous.

As we’d learned at Guard School, the humble cup trench served a very big purpose: catching rolling embers, logs, and other debris, and preventing them from igniting unburned material below. Dig a trench about 18”-24” across and 12” deep. Actual size varies in the field. If possible, build the trench close to the object you’re trying to prevent from rolling; momentum can easily overcome a cup trench. The trench should exhibit a few special features. The downhill lip of the trench should be high and strong; this is designed to stop rolling logs. Use rocks or any other inflammable material to build this downhill lip of the trench up to the point that you’re satisfied that it will be able to sufficiently catch and stop rolling materials. As with most things in life, this is easier said than done Use large rocks, small rocks, all rocks. All a pain in the ass. Ideally, you’ll be digging into a nice hillside with great footing and soft, rock-free soil with a slightly clay-like composition. However, I have yet to encounter such a hillside, and I doubt one exists. At least the rocks that you spend countless minutes extracting from the ground can be useful for building up the trench. There is definitely an art to cup trench construction.

About two weeks into the Leggit Fire, a large tree had burned up and fallen; it was still smoldering and was lying haphazardly across the steep slope. So, we built a cup trench to mitigate this particular hazard. By midpoint in the process, everyone had swapped tools at least once in order to deal with large buried rocks. Each tool had its own benefits. My Pulaski was great for breaking up weaker rocks or prying loose large ones. Abe’s Rhino was great for moving lots of gravel and soil quickly. Hutch’s Combi pick was good for getting behind large rocks to pry them out where my Pulaski couldn’t reach, and her Combi shovel was great for moving loose material.

If you aren’t familiar with these names, I’d be happy to give you a quick primer. A Pulaski is what you’d get if you merged a mattock and an axe: the mattock end is good for scraping and prying, but is only about four inches across. The axe end is great for chopping trees, logs, or roots. The Rhino is what you’d get if you took a garden shovel, cut the blade in half horizontally, then bent it over. Basically a garden hoe, but stronger, wider, and with a slight curve to it. Great scraping tool with its wider head, and okay for some limited chopping. The Combination tool, or “Combi,” is a military entrenching tool on a long handle. A shovel blade and a 1” wide spike can be used independently or in tandem. The shovel side is great for scraping and digging. You have two sides to choose from: a wide flat side and then the curved end if you need more cutting power. The spike is good for loosening up soil and rocks, prying out rocks, and getting hard-to-reach areas. At this point in time, I was a huge fan of the Pulaski, partially due to the fact that I was the rookie, the most inexperienced on our small crew. But I did truly enjoy the capabilities it offered, at the expense of its additional heft. I’d proudly carry the same Pulaski with a few interruptions for two seasons in Idaho, but eventually replaced it with a Combi for my next season in Arizona.

There was a sort of childish glee whenever someone managed to fully excavate a large rock that had been holding them up. I am sure the entire squad felt it. Loosen the rock, roll the rock, add it to the downhill lip, reinforce, keep digging. Engage in causal banter, bullshit, bond over a dirty joke, establish a friendship based on a mutual admiration of Johnny Horton, and re-assert footing. Swing, scrape, sweat, dig and hydrate. We even had our trial by fire; a small chunk of the burning snag rolled downhill while we were still constructing the trench and was successfully caught. All this in the span of around 30 minutes – a short period in an otherwise long day.

No sooner had we finished our admiration break, and I’d awkwardly maneuvered around the trench to continue the arduous march uphill, than a shout came from the squad upslope of us; heads turned uphill, then swiveled around behind us as we followed their extended arms. We heard a low roar from below, and our gazes were greeted with a column of smoke engulfing a single large subalpine fir at the toe of the slope, an area we’d just finished working. Brian and Hutch took off downhill to deal with our mistake as the rest of us silently reviewed this error and continued uphill to meet the other squad. Do good work, do it well, and stay alert.