update with Michael

_data/essay-sections.csv

@@ -8,6 +8,7 @@ section005-5,step-5-5,
 section006,step-6,
 section007,step-7,
 section008,step-8,
+section008-5,step-8-5,
 section009,step-9,
 section010,step-10,
 section011,step-11,

_includes/essay/section002.md

@@ -1,12 +1,13 @@
 {% include feature/image.html objectid="/objects/firetower-as-letter.png" width="25"%}
 
-
 Wildfire’s increase is exacerbated by the continued settlement of areas inside the _wildland urban interface_ or WUE: an area where developing human settlement meets what the U.S. Fire Administration calls “unoccupied land.” These homes are, unsurprisingly, at a higher risk of being destroyed by wildfire, which prompts complex fire reduction efforts by both private and government agencies. More specifically, in _Fire: A Brief History_, fire historian Stephen Pyne defines the WUE, and those who live on it, as “…still urban sprawl, even when populated by people who want woody jungles for privacy and naturalness.” The WUE, as experts like Pyne are quick to point out, is a space where the needs of human and non-human worlds often clash.
 
 A growing wealth inequality along the wildland urban interface  also contributes to Idahoans' frustrations many long-time Idahoans have toward wealthier part-time residents with second homes. The newcomers dream homes typically receive more firefighting resources, often bankrolled by insurance companies trying to protect expensive assets; in the Priest Lake fire district, most of these homes are built where the lake shore meets large adjacent swaths of _unoccupied_ land. Lookouts—like Sundance—are either placed on or near the wildland urban interface or overlooking valuable stands of timber.
 
 Fire Lookouts were created by the Forest Service in the 1910s under its early philosophy of sustainable forest management. At the time, this meant managing timber products, although it has since expanded to include recreation. When Gifford Pinchot—along with Teddy Roosevelt—founded the Forest Service in 1905, he championed economic principles of land conservation and sustainable development. 
 
+{% include feature/image.html objectid="/objects/russian_firetower.jpg" caption="Fire lookout in Tsaritsin, Russia, c. 1900. US Forest Service lookouts were inspired by European and Asian designs." link="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fire_lookout_tower#Russia" width="100" %} 
+
 Inspired by lookouts in Europe, Asia, and more recently by private lumber companies, the Forest Service began outfitting and utilizing lookouts during the early-twentieth century. Initially, the Forest Service was met with opposition from private landowners and capitalists because they felt that the agency would inhibit the free and largely unregulated market of logging. During the summer of 1910, however, a series of wildfires in Idaho and Montana converged into one giant blaze that was roughly 260 miles long and 200 miles wide. Three-million acres burned, and eighty-five people died. Numerous acts of heroism and a swift response by the Forest Service bolstered public support for the nascent agency. 
 
 Emboldened by a changing public perception and the need for more effective fire monitoring networks, the Forest Service began building thousands of fire lookouts over the next twenty years. After WWII, military technology, including aerial capabilities, was repurposed for fire detection purposes. The 1940’s marked the beginning of the technological obsolescence of fire lookouts.

_includes/essay/section003.md

@@ -1,5 +1,3 @@
-{% include feature/image.html objectid="/objects/firetower-as-letter.png" width="25"%}
-
 
 Pam’s boss, John, slides a map across the table. It shows the topography surrounding Priest Lake and how the Selkirk Mountains make a skinny valley that crosses the Canadian border. Lightning bolts mark where several strikes occurred a week ago during a June thunderstorm. These strikes are concerning because Idaho is in the early stages of its worst drought in several decades. I will be on the tower during what is projected to be the <a href="https://www.climatehubs.usda.gov/hubs/northwest/topic/2021-northwest-heat-dome-causes-impacts-and-future-outlook" target="_blank">hottest recorded temperatures ever in the Northwest</a>: one-hundred-and-thirteen degrees Fahrenheit, tomorrow.
 

_includes/essay/section005.md

@@ -1,4 +1,3 @@
-{% include feature/image.html objectid="/objects/firetower-as-letter.png" width="25"%}
 
 
 Through the window, a breeze sneaks in. The tower is about 15 degrees cooler than the valley. The bear grass makes the air smell sweet, and the last patches of snow are melting at a perceptible rate. A pine snag on the ridge to my southeast stands in an otherwise healthy forest, and below it the highwater mark of evening inches closer. I fixate on this steady pull between night and day. The sun’s geometry positions the tree at the fulcrum of light and dark. I glance at my phone: 7:38 p.m.
@@ -11,6 +10,8 @@ In _Blue Highways’_, young Heat-Moon has lost his English lectureship, and his
 
 Making his way through the American Southwest, Heat-Moon reflects on the smells and nuances of the central Nevada desert. Its lonesomeness makes him consider the Latin root of the English word vacation, which is _vacare_ (meaning “to be empty”). He uses the open space to infuse himself with impressions of the landscape and foster a connection to the non-interior world. To see himself _out there_ in the desert and merge with the interstitial absence of the Nevada landscape and finally be “absorbed” by it.
 
+{% include feature/image.html objectid="/objects/blue-highways-cover.jpg" caption="William Least Heat-Moon's <i>Blue Highways</i>" link="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Blue_Highways" width="100" %} 
+
 Heat-Moon looks out of Ghost Dancing and sees himself reflected in the pellucidity of the van window, transposed onto the desert. Quoting Whitman, he describes “…the thoughtful merge of myself, and the outlet….” Seeing yourself as connected to and part of the exterior world is a common first step toward an ethics that accounts for the interconnected nature of the world and cosmos. Lookouts seem to facilitate this swiveling between _self_ and the _more-than-self_ because of their innate architecture. The panoramic windows provide easy access between the inside and outside world and allow one to glean their place in the larger landscape while protected from the elements.
 
 I put down Blue Highways and turn off my headlamp, get out of my sleeping bag, and walk to the window. Between the inside of the cabin and the night sky, the windows and propane lamp transpose my face onto the universe. I walk to the deck and suddenly all that remains is black plasma where my face was.

_includes/essay/section007.md

@@ -20,3 +20,4 @@ Most often, lookout life embodied not the clear segregation of wilderness or civ
 
 Sheepeater Lookout is the last remaining staffed lookout in The Church, and recently only for emergency purposes. As we climb the Mosquito Ridge trail, the outline of Sheepeater Peak briefly comes into view. Last month, we interviewed a lookout enthusiast named Richard Holm who also restores lookouts in his spare time. In his 2009 book, _Points of Prominence_, Holm explains that Sheepeater exists at the edge of lookout evolution, and that those who staff it are primarily “fire monitors” who make sure that fire does not cross the wilderness boundary. Their new (and decreased) function is of interest to Holm, though, who points out that the average fire size has grown from just a few thousand acres to “100,000 acre fires [becoming] common place.” Such an increase is evidence that the same human conditions exacerbating fire in National Forests, TPA lands, private property, and National Parks, are present in wilderness areas as well.
 
+{% include feature/image.html objectid="associated-media001" width="100" %}

_includes/essay/section008.md

@@ -1,6 +1,3 @@
-{% include feature/image.html objectid="/objects/firetower-as-letter.png" width="25"%}
-
-{% include feature/image.html objectid="associated-media001" width="100" %}
 
 From Mosquito Ridge, the Salmon River rushes five thousand feet below me and high mountain wildflowers sway in the warm updraft. On a ridge above us [Chicken Peak](../items/chicken-peak.html) is the most unique fire lookout I have seen in the entire state of Idaho; its prominent roof and neon orange paint helped pilots navigate over empty swaths of terrain before GPS technology. Chicken Peak is the halfway point between the Mosquito Ridge trailhead and Sheepeater Lookout.
 

_includes/essay/section011.md

@@ -1,5 +1,3 @@
-{% include feature/image.html objectid="/objects/firetower-as-letter.png" width="25"%}
-
 “Bill!” I call out as the shape of Diablo’s lookout materializes through the ubiquitous wildfire smoke. I see a fluorescent work shirt and a pale hand wave howdy. Bill is a septuagenarian who moves slowly but confidently, the result of a life spent hiking and living in a big open country. He smiles an honest, crooked smile that makes me feel at home. He invites us up to the cabin and brews a pot of coffee creating an effortless and organic hospitality, and prompting conversation in a way that only a pot of coffee shared among friends can.
 
 {% include feature/image.html objectid="diablo-mountain005" width="100" caption="Michael Decker and Bill Moore on Diablo Peak

_includes/essay/section013.md

@@ -1,5 +1,3 @@
-{% include feature/image.html objectid="/objects/firetower-as-letter.png" width="25"%}
-
 {% include feature/video.html objectid="cold-mountain-lookout001" width="100" start="00:00:10" %}
 
 I sip my coffee down to a black residue as we start packing our cameras and prepare to head back down the trail. The smoke, I think, has gotten worse since we arrived. Bill gestures vaguely out toward McConnell Mountain where his dad had worked. In the end, lightning ignited a wildfire five miles from Bud’s old rock pile and three days later the now-decommissioned McConnell Mountain fire lookout burned down. <a href="https://keeping.onrender.com/items/mcconnel-mountain001.html" target="_blank">Bill wrote</a> that Bud, who passed away in 2010, would not be sad because “the story is a lesson about the circle of life and death in the Wilderness world.”
@@ -9,7 +7,7 @@ Bud’s personal land ethic emphasized that no human alteration to the land is w
 After we return to our busy lives at work and school, Bill will still be here. I think that being here does matter, and that despite cost, efficiency, or current politics, the very act of remaining in one place and becoming familiar with its personality is more important than ever. I pause for a moment and inhale the smokey air. The wind blows across my cheek. I think of it fanning the flames of the nearby Lolo Complex Fires. Ground squirrels chatter in the nearby rocks and where the sky once was is now only smoke. I would, if possible, lie down next to the lookout in the bear grass and never leave.
 
 {:.card .p-3}
-**Citation:** Decker, Michael "Mapping Idaho's Fire Lookouts Through Lived History", Keeping Watch, https://cdil.lib.uidaho.edu/keeping-watch/
+**Citation:** Decker, Michael. "Mapping Idaho's Fire Lookouts Through Lived History", Keeping Watch, https://cdil.lib.uidaho.edu/keeping-watch/