Bringing Fire Back - A Conversation with Darrell Schulte

There’s a moment in every good conversation where things shift—from facts and history into something deeper. A kind of knowing.

That moment came when Darrell Schulte said simply:

“We need to embrace fire.”

Not fear it. Not fight it at all costs.

But understand it, work with it, and bring it back to the landscape in the way it was always meant to be.

A Life Shaped by Fire

Darrell’s relationship with fire didn’t begin in a classroom—it began on the ground.

In the mid-1970s, while studying forestry in Missoula, fire wasn’t a central part of the curriculum. But that changed quickly when he took a lookout position in 1976 and responded to his first wildfire. After graduating in 1978, he landed in Libby, Montana, where he began experimenting with prescribed fire on small units—just a few acres at a time—using backpack propane torches.

“I learned more watching fire burn than putting it out.”

That lesson would follow him throughout his career.

From working on large-scale timber projects in Oregon—where he observed how fire intensity affects soil, duff layers, and erosion—to serving on hotshot crews focused on suppressing massive wildfires, Darrell saw both sides of fire: its power to destroy, and its essential role in maintaining healthy ecosystems.

Over time, his work evolved into fire planning, analysis, and eventually community-based forestry. Today, as a county forester and active member of collaboratives like the Ruby Valley Strategic Alliance (RVSA) and the Beaverhead-Deerlodge Working Group, he continues to advocate for thoughtful, intentional use of fire on the landscape.

The Fire We Took Away

For much of the 20th century, land management policy in the United States followed a simple directive: put out every fire, as quickly as possible.

What began in the early 1900s—and was reinforced for decades through campaigns like Smokey Bear—fundamentally changed our forests.

By the 1970s, we had become very good at stopping fire.

Too good.

Without regular, low-intensity burns, fuels began to build—dead wood, dense undergrowth, thick duff layers. Forests that once experienced frequent, mild fire became crowded and stressed.

Darrell describes this as the “fire paradox.”

The more we suppress fire, the more dangerous it becomes.

Today, that reality is playing out across the West. Longer fire seasons, more intense burns, and landscapes that are increasingly vulnerable to insect outbreaks, disease, and catastrophic wildfire.

Why Prescribed Fire Matters

Prescribed fire is one of the most effective tools we have to restore balance.

It mimics the natural fire cycles that many ecosystems evolved with—reducing fuel loads, improving forest structure, and supporting a diversity of plant and animal life.

But not all fire is the same.

Intensity and duration matter.

• Low-intensity fire can clear out surface fuels without damaging mature trees.

• High-intensity fire can kill trees, especially if it burns long enough to consume deep duff layers and heat the soil.

• Some species even depend on fire—requiring heat to trigger seed germination, sometimes after decades or even centuries in the soil.

“When we get fire back to a more natural frequency, we start to see healthier forests, more resilient landscapes, and better outcomes for wildlife.”

Instead of uniform, dense stands, fire helps create a mosaic landscape—a mix of tree ages, openings, and vegetation types that can better withstand disturbance.

A Changing Landscape

The urgency is growing.

Historically, fire season ran from July through September.

Now, fires are starting as early as May and stretching into October—and sometimes beyond.

Climate change is amplifying these conditions, creating longer windows for fire activity. In theory, this could also create more opportunity for prescribed burning.

But in practice, it’s not that simple.

What’s Holding Us Back

Despite broad agreement among many land managers about the importance of prescribed fire, several barriers remain:

1. Litigation

Projects aimed at improving forest health are often delayed or stopped through legal challenges. These cases are frequently driven by single-interest perspectives that don’t always account for broader ecosystem needs.

2. Liability and Insurance

The risk associated with prescribed fire—combined with insurance limitations—makes agencies and private landowners cautious. Decisions are often influenced by entities far removed from the local landscape.

3. Lack of Training and Capacity

A generation of foresters has come up in an era focused heavily on fire suppression. As a result, fewer practitioners have hands-on experience using fire as a management tool.

“There’s a hesitation,” Darrell noted. “People haven’t had the opportunity to learn how to use fire safely and effectively.”

A Path Forward: Community and Collaboration

If there’s one theme that runs through Darrell’s career—and through the work of RVSA—it’s this:

There are no simple answers. But there is a path forward.

And that path is collaborative.

Across southwest Montana, landowners, conservation groups, agencies, and community members are working together to:

• Develop community wildfire protection plans

• Expand prescribed fire training opportunities

• Share knowledge across sectors

• Build trust and find common ground

Darrell emphasized the importance of public understanding and support.

“We need to talk about the whole landscape. The systems that are connected. And we need to acknowledge concerns while working toward solutions.”

Because in the end, this isn’t just about forests.

It’s about water, wildlife, livelihoods—and the long-term health of the places we call home.

Looking Ahead

When asked what he hopes people take away from this work, Darrell didn’t hesitate.

Think long term.

Not just in terms of years—but generations.

Prescribed fire may bring short-term smoke and temporary disruption. But over time, it leads to healthier forests, more resilient ecosystems, and even improved water outcomes.

“We’ll have less severe fire, less smoke overall, and a better environment,” he said. “But we have to be willing to think beyond our own lifetime.”

And perhaps most importantly:

We have to be willing to bring fire back.