United States

Department

of Agriculture

Forest Service

Rocky Mountain

Research Station

General Technical

Report RMRS-GTR-42- 

volume 3

May 2012

Wildland Fire in 

Ecosystems

Effects of Fire on Cultural 

Resources and Archaeology
Ryan, Kevin C.; Jones, Ann Trinkle; Koerner, Cassandra L.; Lee, Kristine M., tech. eds. 2012. Wildland fire in 

ecosystems: effects of fire on cultural resources and archaeology. Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 

Fort Collins, CO: U.S. Department of Agriculture, Forest Service, Rocky Mountain Research Station. 224 p.

Abstract

This state-of-knowledge review provides a synthesis of the effects of fire on cultural resources, which can be used 

by fire managers, cultural resource (CR) specialists, and archaeologists to more effectively manage wildland vegetation, fuels, and fire. The goal of the volume is twofold: (1) to provide cultural resource/archaeological professionals 

and policy makers with a primer on fuels, fire behavior, and fire effects to enable them to work more effectively with 

the fire management community to protect resources during fuels treatment and restoration projects and wildfire 

suppression activities; and (2) to provide fire and land management professionals and policy makers with a greater 

understanding of the value of cultural resource protection and the methods available to evaluate and mitigate risks 

to CR. The synthesis provides a conceptual fire effects framework for planning, managing, and modeling fire effects 

(chapter1) and a primer on fire and fuel processes and fire effects prediction modeling (chapter 2). A synthesis of the 

effects of fire on various cultural resource materials is provided for ceramics (chapter 3), lithics (chapter 4), rock art 

(chapter 5), historic-period artifacts/materials (chapter 6), and below-ground features (chapter 7). Chapter 8 discusses 

the importance of cultural landscapes to indigenous peoples and emphasizes the need to actively involve native 

people in the development of collaborative management plans. The use and practical implications of this synthesis 

are the subject of the final chapter (chapter 9).

Keywords: cultural resources, heritage resources, archaeology, fire regime, fire environment, fuels management, 

fire management, fire planning, wildfire, prescribed fire, First-Order fire effects, Second-Order fire effects, 

Third-Order fire effects, Burned Area Emergency Rehabilitation (BAER), fire severity, traditional cultural 

knowledge (TKE), cultural landscapes

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RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 2. Wildland fire in ecosystems: effects of fire on flora.

RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. Wildland fire in ecosystems: effects of fire on cultural resources and archaeology.

RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 4. Wildland fire in ecosystems: effects of fire on soil and water.

RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 5. Wildland fire in ecosystems: effects of fire on air.

RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 6. Wildland fire in ecosystems: fire and nonnative invasive plants.

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Wildland Fire in Ecosystems

Effects of Fire on Cultural Resources and Archaeology

Authors

Krista Deal, Pacific District Archaeologist, U.S. Department of Agriculture, Forest Service, Eldorado National 

Forest, Pollack Pines, California.

Leonard DeBano, Adjunct Professor, School of Renewable Natural Resources, University of Arizona, Tucson, 

Arizona.

Michael L. Elliot, Archaeologist, Santa Fe National Forest 

Mountain Heritage Associates, Santa Fe, New Mexico.

Charles Haecker, Archaeologist, National Park Service 

Intermountain Region, Heritage Partnerships Program, 

Santa Fe, New Mexico.

Ann Trinkle Jones, Cultural Resources Coordinator, U.S. 

National Park System, Colorado Plateau Cooperative 

Ecosystem Study Unit (CP CESU), Flagstaff, Arizona.

Roger Kelly, National Park Service (retired) and Executive Director (retired), Benicia Historical Museum, 

Benicia, California.

Kristine M. Lee, Deputy Program Manager for the Fire, 

Fuel, and Smoke (FFS) Science Program; Director of the 

Fire Modeling Institute, U.S. Department of Agriculture, 

Forest Service, Fire Sciences Laboratory, Missoula, 

Montana.

Technical Editors

Kevin C. Ryan, Research Forest Ecologist, U.S. Department of Agriculture, Forest Service, 

Fire Sciences Laboratory, Missoula, Montana. 

Ann Trinkle Jones, Cultural Resources Coordinator, U.S. National Park System,

Colorado Plateau Cooperative Ecosystem Study Unit (CP CESU), Flagstaff, Arizona.

Cassandra L. Koerner, Graduate Student in Environmental and Natural Resources Policy 

and Administration, Department of Public Policy and Administration, Boise State University, 

Boise, Idaho.

Kristine M. Lee, Supervisory Biological Scientist and Deputy Program Manager for the 

Fire, Fuel, and Smoke (FFS) Science Program; Director of the Fire Modeling Institute, U.S. 

Department of Agriculture, Forest Service, Fire Sciences Laboratory, Missoula, Montana.

Daniel F. McCarthy, Tribal Relations Program Manager, 

U.S. Department of Agriculture, Forest Service, San 

Bernardino National Forest, Supervisors Office, Heritage 

Resources, San Bernardino, California.

Elizabeth Oster, Archaeologist, Jemez Mountain Research Center, Santa Fe, New Mexico. 

Trisha Rude, Macrobotanical Specialist, Aztec Archaeological Consultants, Aztec, New Mexico. 

Samantha M. Ruscava-Barz, Staff Attorney, WildEarth 

Guardians, Santa Fe, New Mexico. 

Kevin C. Ryan, Research Forest Ecologist, U.S. Department of Agriculture, Forest Service, Fire Sciences 

Laboratory, Missoula, Montana. 

Nelson Siefkin, Archeologist/BAER Coordinator, Fire 

& Aviation Management, National Park Service-Pacific 

West Region, Oakland, California.

Rebecca S. Timmons, Forest Archaeologist, U.S. 

Department of Agriculture, Forest Service, Kootenai 

National Forest, Libby, Montana.

John R. Welch, Canada Research Chain, Indigenous 

Heritage Stewardship, Department of Archaeology, Simon 

Frasier University, British Columbia, Canada. 

i
Summary ____________________________________

Cultural resources refer to the physical evidence of human occupations that 

cultural resource specialists and archaeologists use to reconstruct the past. This 

includes the objects, locations, and landscapes that play a significant role in the 

history or cultural traditions of a group of people. Cultural resources include artifacts 

of historical significance left by prehistoric aboriginal peoples . Archaeological constituents, the basic units of archaeological analysis, consist of artifacts and features. 

Artifacts include carved objects, pottery and ceramics, flaked and ground stones, 

faunal and floral remains, glass, and metal. Features include earthen works, rock 

art (e.g., petroglyphs and pictographs), midden soils, and structures (e.g., buildings, 

monuments, etc.). Cultural resources are at risk of being damaged by wildfires as 

well as active natural resource management. In Canada and the United States, 

managers have legal requirements to protect cultural resources during fuels treatments, restoration activities, wildfire suppression, and post-fire rehabilitation. The 

successful implementation of prescribed burning and wildfire suppression in cultural 

resources sensitive areas requires integration of cultural resources and wildland 

fire science. Knowledge of the local archaeology, artifact materials, site types, and 

context is essential to minimizing the negative impacts of all management activities. 

Likewise, understanding fuels, fire behavior, and heat transfer mechanisms is key 

to predicting, managing, and monitoring the effects of fire on cultural resources. 

This volume of the “Rainbow Series” synthesizes the relationships between fire and 

cultural resources. It presents the reader with the context of contemporary fire use 

and how these fire management tactics may affect prehistoric and historic cultural 

resources. It synthesizes the impacts of fire and fire management on various types 

of cultural resources and identifies management strategies to minimize negative 

impacts on cultural resources.

Chapter 1 provides basic definitions of wildland fire, the categories of cultural 

resources (including basic operational definitions), and the legal framework for both 

the United States and Canada for resource protection. It provides a framework 

for classifying fire effects by direct versus indirect effects into First-Order (firecaused changes), Second-Order (post-fire biophysical changes), and Third-Order

(human actions/reactions). Chapter 2 provides an overview of the various spatial 

and temporal scales of fire analysis and their relationship to the effects on cultural 

resources. It includes a primer on the biophysical processes that couples fuels and 

fire behavior to the observable effects on cultural resource types, and identifies a 

ii

Acknowledgments_____________________________

The Rainbow Series was completed under the sponsorship of the Joint Fire Sciences 

Program, a cooperative fire science effort of the U.S. Department of Agriculture, Forest 

Service and the U.S. Department of the Interior, Bureau of Indian Affairs, Bureau of 

Land Management, Fish and Wildlife Service, and National Park Service. 

The authors are grateful for reviews of the manuscript from: Anne Baldwin, Mike 

Bremer, J. Claire Dean, Cathy Gilbert, Cari Goetcheus, Rob Jackson, Jane Kolber, 

Steve Lentz, Tom Origer, Jim Reardon, Doug Scott, Nelson Siefkin, and George Teague. 

The reviews added substantially to the document. We are thankful to Emily Schembra 

for her library work and pulling together all the pieces of the final document; Brook 

Easterday for editing and working with authors to get their contributions electronically; 

Denny Simmerman and Kelsi Plante for graphics support; Larry Bradshaw for providing weather and fire danger rating for sidebars; and, Miguel Cruz for radiant energy 

calculations and graphs. We also appreciate photographic contributions from Sharon 

Waechter and Tammara Norton of Farwestern Anthropological Research Group; Don 

Bragg, Sally Crum, Clay Johnson, Lee Johnson, David Jurney, Rhonda Kimbrough, 

Patricia Lacey, Chris Lydick, Neil Weintraub, and Linda Pollak from CalFire. 
iii

number of fire behavior and effects models useful for fire planning and prescription 

development. Chapter 3 summarizes fire effects on prehistoric ceramics—which 

in North America are primarily earthenware, a porous ceramic, fired at a relatively 

low temperature—including the direct effects of heating and sooting on the visual 

and physical characteristics that affect archaeological dating and sourcing as well 

as the indirect effects on the depositional environment and its impact on interpretation. Chapter 4 describes common lithic artifacts, including flaked and ground 

stone objects, and the effects of fire on archaeological interpretation including 

obsidian hydration, thermoluminesence, and archaeo-magnetic dating. Chapter 5 

describes the effects of fire and fire management on petroglyphs and pictographs 

(rock art) and the significance of these resources in understanding the history and 

culture of the site. Chapter 6 describes historical sites and artifacts in the context 

of their material makeup, their susceptibility to fire, and the types of fire damage. It 

also stresses the need to move beyond describing historic resources solely on the 

basis of their material properties and physical boundaries, but to asses them in the 

context of the landscape in which they occur. Chapter 7 focuses on the effects of 

fire on subsurface archeological deposits: the matrix containing post-depositional 

fill, artifacts, ecofactual data, dating samples, and other cultural and non-cultural 

materials. In order to provide a context for understanding these data, this chapter 

provides a summary of previous research about the potential effects of fire on 

subsurface cultural materials. Chapter 8 describes the significance of wildland fire 

and fire management to contemporary communities and provides a clear distinction between the definitions of tangible and intangible resource components. It also 

challenges us to go beyond the tangible materials science and regulatory compliance measures of cultural resources and begin to integrate the formal, historical, 

and relational aspects of landscapes into planning and management of cultural 

resources. It emphasizes the need to develop and implement programs that are 

integral to the landscape through consultation with affected communities. Finally, 

chapter 9 presents a framework for integrating cultural resource and wildland fire 

management, provides practical applications for situations mentioned throughout 

the text, and clearly defines management roles in fire situations. It also elaborates 

on the process of identification, evaluation (documentation), and mitigation in both 

planned (prescribed) and unplanned (wildland) fire situations.

–– The Editors

July 2007
Contents________________________________

Page

iv 

Chapter 1: Effects of Fire on Cultural Resources—Introduction.................... 1

by Kevin C. Ryan, Cassandra L. Koerner, Kristine M. Lee, and Nelson Siefkin

Introduction...........................................................................................................................1

Cultural Resources...............................................................................................................2

Legal Protection....................................................................................................................6

Cultural Resources Categorized.........................................................................................10

 Tangible and Intangible Cultural Resources...............................................................10

Fire Management ...............................................................................................................10

 Categories of Effects..................................................................................................11

What is the Objective of This Volume?...............................................................................13

Chapter 2: Fire Behavior and Effects: Principles for 

Archaeologists........................................................................................... 15

by Kevin C. Ryan and Cassandra Koerner

Fire Basics..........................................................................................................................16

 Combustion................................................................................................................17

 Heat Transfer .............................................................................................................18

 Fire Behavior Principles .............................................................................................20

The Many Scales of Fire.....................................................................................................22

Fire Behavior and Effects: Concepts and Models ..............................................................23

 Fire Environment........................................................................................................23

Fire Intensity, Depth of Burn, and Fire Severity..................................................................37

 Fire Intensity...............................................................................................................37

 Depth of Burn.............................................................................................................39

 Fire Severity...............................................................................................................40

Integrating Fire Severity With Cultural Resources..............................................................41

Fire Regime........................................................................................................................45

Fire Planning ......................................................................................................................48

 Fire Planning Software...............................................................................................52

Conclusions........................................................................................................................55

Appendix 2-1—A Field Guide to Fire Severity Terminology and Classification ..................56

 Fire Characteristics: Fire Intensity Classes................................................................56

 Fire Characteristics: Depth of Burn Classes ..............................................................67

 Fire Severity Matrix ....................................................................................................75

Chapter 3: Fire Effects on Prehistoric Ceramics............................................ 85

by Trisha Rude and Anne Trinkle Jones

Materials and Mechanics of Pottery Construction ..............................................................86

 Pottery as Raw Material.............................................................................................87

 Vessel Formation and Preparation for Firing..............................................................87

 Decoration..................................................................................................................88

 Clay Firing..................................................................................................................88
v

Page

Firing Effects on Non-Clay Inclusions.................................................................................89

 Pottery Use and Post-Depositional Changes.............................................................90

Fire Effects Research.........................................................................................................91

 Fire Effects on Appearance........................................................................................92

 Fire Effects on Analytical Properties ..........................................................................93

Conclusions........................................................................................................................94

Chapter 4: Fire Effects on Flaked Stone, Ground Stone, and 

Other Stone Artifacts.........................................................................................97

by Krista Deal

Introduction.........................................................................................................................97

Lithic Artifacts and Fire .......................................................................................................98

 Some Caveats............................................................................................................98

Flaked Stone ......................................................................................................................99

 Chert: Flint, Jasper, Chalcedony, and Related Silicates ............................................99

 Obsidian...................................................................................................................101

 Basalt .......................................................................................................................105

 Quartz, Quartzite, Mudstone, Rhyolite, Siltstone, Slate, and Vitrified and Welded Tuff.....105

Ground Stone ...................................................................................................................106

Thermal Effects on Rock Used as Heating or Cooking Stones........................................108

 Other Stone Artifacts................................................................................................109

Implications for Cultural Resource Protection and Fire Planning .....................................110

Chapter 5: Fire Effects on Rock Images and Similar 

Cultural Resources.................................................................................. 113

by Roger E. Kelly and Daniel F. McCarthy

Introduction.......................................................................................................................113

 Setting and Placement.............................................................................................116

Heritage And Research Values.........................................................................................117

Fire Effects .......................................................................................................................117

Field Examples.................................................................................................................122

 Hawaii ......................................................................................................................122

 Arizona.....................................................................................................................122

 Texas........................................................................................................................124

 California..................................................................................................................124

 Colorado...................................................................................................................125

 Utah..........................................................................................................................125

 Washington ..............................................................................................................127

 Kentucky ..................................................................................................................127

 Nevada.....................................................................................................................127

 Field Examples: Observations .................................................................................127

Mitigation and Protection..................................................................................................127

Restoration and Stabilization............................................................................................130

Resources Available.........................................................................................................130
vi

Chapter 6: Fire Effects on Materials of the Historic Period......................... 131

by Charles Haecker

Types of Fire Damage ......................................................................................................132

Historic Structures ............................................................................................................132

 Native Materials Structures......................................................................................132

 Structures Using Manufactured Materials................................................................136

Historic Artifacts................................................................................................................137

 Glass........................................................................................................................137

 Metal ........................................................................................................................140

 Miscellaneous Artifacts.............................................................................................142

Summary ..........................................................................................................................142

Chapter 7: The Effects of Fire on Subsurface Archaeological Materials ... 143

by Elizabeth A. Oster, Samantha Ruscavage-Barz, and Michael L. Elliott

Fire and Cultural Sites......................................................................................................143

Fire Effects and Subsurface Cultural Resources: Previous Research .............................144

 Post-Fire Studies of Archaeological Sites ................................................................145

 Experimental Studies Dealing with the 

Effects of Heat on Artifacts, Ecofacts, and Datable Materials..................................146

 Thermal Alteration of Cultural Materials and Features.............................................147

Dendrochronology ............................................................................................................150

Radiocarbon Dating (14C).................................................................................................150

Archeomagnetic Dating ....................................................................................................150

Obsidian Hydration...........................................................................................................150

Case Study: Investigation of Subsurface Heating Effects at Bandelier National 

Monument, New Mexico.............................................................................................151

 Thermal Alteration of Ecofacts and Cultural Materials .............................................152

 Correlation Between Heating Effects on Archaeological Materials and Visible 

Changes in the Surrounding Matrix..........................................................................153

 Correspondence Between SHE Study Fire Effects and Effects Noted in 

Experimental Fires ...................................................................................................154

 Alteration of Datable Materials.................................................................................154

 Potential for Detecting Ancient Fires, and Correspondence of Surface 

and Subsurface Burn Severity Data.........................................................................155

Summary and Conclusions...............................................................................................155

 Postscript .................................................................................................................156

Chapter 8: Effects of Fire on Intangible Cultural Resources: 

Moving Toward a Landscape Approach................................................ 157

by John R. Welch

Fire Policy and Standard Practice in Cultural Resource Management.............................158

 Approach, Scope, and Goals ...................................................................................159

Why Consider Fire Effects on Intangible Cultural Resources?.........................................161

Cultural Resources in Local and Management Community Context................................163

 Local Communities...................................................................................................163

 Management Communities ......................................................................................163

Page
vii

Landscapes as Common Ground.....................................................................................164

Beyond Compliance and Materials Science.....................................................................165

Steps and Stumbling Blocks in Inter-Community Collaboration..........................................166

 People First..............................................................................................................167

 One Local Community at a Time..............................................................................167

 Deal Face Up ...........................................................................................................167

 The Sooner the Better..............................................................................................168

 Go to the Source......................................................................................................168

 Respect Tribal Sovereignty ......................................................................................168

Summary and Recommendations ....................................................................................168

Concluding Thoughts........................................................................................................170

Chapter 9: Implications of Fire Management on Cultural Resources ........ 171

by Rebecca S. Timmons, Leonard deBano, and Kevin C. Ryan

Planning............................................................................................................................172

Risk Management.............................................................................................................175

Wildland Fire Management Recommendations................................................................180

Prescribed Fire .................................................................................................................182

 Prescribed Fire Management Recommendations....................................................185

Fire Rehabilitation.............................................................................................................186

 Fire Rehabilitation Recommendations .....................................................................186

Fire Use............................................................................................................................186

 Fire Use Recommendations.....................................................................................186

Summary ..........................................................................................................................190

References .......................................................................................................................192

Glossary ...........................................................................................................................209

Index.................................................................................................................................223

Page

USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 1

Chapter 1: 

Effects of Fire on Cultural 

Resources—Introduction

Kevin C. Ryan

Cassandra L. Koerner

Kristine M. Lee 

Nelson Siefkin

The world’s diverse cultures have their varying 

creation stories (Moyers and Campbell 1988; UGA 

2000). Many of these stories contain physical features: the mountains, hills, plains, and rivers of their 

native lands that are integral components of cultural 

traditions (Berkes and others 2000; Goetcheus 

2002; King 2003; Martin 2002; Parker 1993; Parker 

and King 1990; Smythe and York 2009; Stoffle and 

others 1997). Fire figures prominently in the traditions of most cultures, both in their beliefs and their 

practices (Lewis and Ferguson 1988; Stewart 2002; 

Williams 2001, http://www.wildlandfire.com/docs/

biblio_indianfire.htm). Before modern civilizations 

developed, early civilizations existed for millennia 

sometimes in urban settings, sometimes in pastoral 

or agrarian settings, and sometimes in huntergather settings, but always in close association with 

fire as a fuel for light, warmth, cooking/food preservation, security, and industry (Arnold 1961; Brown and 

others 2009; de Lumley 2006; Gowlett 2006, 2010; 

James 1989; Webb and Domanski 2009). Indeed, it 

is argued that before there were hunter-gatherers 

there were gatherers. Human physiology and anatomy 

suggest that mastery of fire must have predated 

specialized hunting (Sussman and Hart 2008). To 

early cultures, control and use of fire increased their 

survival through manipulation of habitats to promote 

desired foods, materials, and medicines. For millennia, 

bands of hunter-gatherers roamed the land following the 

rhythms of the seasons—ripening of plant resources 

and animal migrations. The advent of agriculture 

roughly 8,000 years ago is widely understood to have 

caused major changes in land use (c.f., Diamond 1997, 

2005; Thomas 1956). In recent years there has been 

considerable debate as to the role of aboriginal people in 

altering the landscape (c.f., Boyd 1999; Denevan 1992; 

Stewart 2002; Vale 2002). It is, however, increasingly 

understood that those who came before us—whether 

hunter-gatherer or agricultural-urban dweller—have 

been major agents of land change through their burning 

practices (Abrams and Nowacki 2008; Fesenmeyer and 

Christensen 2010; Nowacki and Abrams 2008; Scharf 

2010a,b; Springer and others 2010; Thomas 1956). It 

is becoming increasingly apparent that the combined 

effects of agriculture and fire have affected not only the 

vegetation but also atmosphere and climate (Carcaillet 

and others 2002; Ruddiman 2003, 2007). Thus, fire 

and culture are inexorably intertwined, all part of the 

human experience. We are a fire people and this is a 

fire planet (Pyne 1982, 1995, 2001, 2004).

... scholars have wasted (in my view) too much time 

and effort on a science versus traditional knowledge 

debate; we should reframe it instead as a science and 

traditional knowledge dialog and partnership. (Fikret 

Berkes 2009)
2 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

Aboriginal people adapted their tools and fire use 

to meet the needs of their environment. The details of 

fire use by various Native people are beyond the scope 

of this volume. Readers are directed to the archaeological libraries for exploration of those relationships. 

However, cultural resource management in fire prone 

environments requires knowledge both of the people 

who inhabited those lands, historic fire regimes, and 

current fire activity (fig. 1-1).

Knowledge about the role of fire in the earth’s 

vegetation-climate system and of people’s use of fire 

for a variety of cultural purposes has grown tremendously in the past two decades. Much of this new knowledge stems from the innate desire to understand our 

origins and more recently from the quest for greater 

understanding of climate change science and feedback 

mechanisms within the climate system, including the 

role humans have played in affecting vegetation and 

climate (Brown and others 2009; Carcaillet and others 2002; Ruddiman 2003, 2007). The recognition of 

fire’s integral role in the maintenance of many “fire 

dependent” plant communities (Brown and Smith 

2002) and the development of healthy landscapes 

has also fueled recent research, and led to greater understanding. The preponderance of evidence suggests 

that the role and use of fire in the United States and 

Canada have changed markedly since Pre-Columbian 

times (Abrams and Nowacki 2008; Fesenmeyer and 

Christensen 2010; Nowacki and Abrams 2008; Scharf 

2010a,b; Springer and others 2010; chapter 2; and 

many others). The 20th century—the era of wide spread 

cessation of aboriginal burning practices, landscape 

fragmentation and fire suppression—is the most 

recent human influence on fire as a natural process 

in the development of vegetation. The area burned 

declined for decades in the 20th century (Agee 1993; 

Leenhouts 1998) but has been increasing since about 

1970 (Agee 1993; Westerling and others 2006) (fig. 1-2). 

With this increase in area burned comes an increased 

risk of damage to cultural resources. Further, public 

concern for the impacts of increasingly large (fig. 1-2), 

damaging, and costly fires has led to greater emphasis 

on fire management programs, particularly fire use. 

Wildfires, as well as suppression efforts, hazardous 

fuels treatments, and post-fire restoration projects all 

differentially pose a risk to cultural resources (mechanically, chemically, functionally, and aesthetically).

Cultural Resources ______________

What are cultural resources and why should we be 

concerned about protecting them during fire management activities? Cultural resources are material and 

non-material items that represent physical and spiritual presence and practices of society throughout 

its development. Cultural resources are important 

resources that bind those of us living today with our 

ancestors, traditions, and histories. They are generally 

viewed as non-renewable resources. They are often 

fragile tangible objects susceptible to thermal damage 

during wildland fires (wildfires and prescribed fires), 

and physical damage from management-related disturbances. Others, in particular indigenous peoples, 

view cultural resources as encompassing all the elements of the environment that sustain culture. From 

this perspective, living organisms (plants, animals, 

fungi, etc.) and the condition of sites or areas are considered as potential cultural resources. Ethics argue 

that cultural resources should be protected for their 

value to this and future generations, and they are 

protected by numerous laws. Discussion of the many 

laws is beyond the scope of this review. A primer on 

the important laws for the United States and Canada 

may be found at http://www.nps.gov/history/laws.htm 

and http://www.pc.gc.ca/eng/docs/r/pfa-fap/index.aspx, 

respectively. Specific laws will be mentioned as needed 

by the chapter authors.

In the United States, cultural resources generally 

fall into three types:

1. Prehistoric—As defined in the 1979 Archaeological Resources Protection Act (ARPA), the term 

“archaeological resources” means “Any material 

remains of past human life or activities which are 

of archaeological interest...” and include human 

remains; burial sites; weapons, tools, vessels 

(baskets, ceramics, etc.); lithic scatters; milling 

and quarry sites; refuse or debris piles; middens; 

rock shelters; temporary camp sites; house, village, ceremonial sites; and sacred places.

2. Historic—As defined in the 1976 National 

Historic Preservation Act, “historic” includes 

buildings (cabins, houses, barns, businesses, 

churches); settlements; improvements (corrals, 

water works), sites of important events (e.g., 

battlegrounds, treaties); passageways (canals, 

trails, roads, railroads, tunnels); refuse piles; 

cemeteries; distinct districts or communities; and 

unique landscaping, architecture or construction.

3. Contemporary—National Register of Historic 

Places has guidelines and procedures for determining places that qualify for inclusion. These 

include traditional cultural properties (Parker 

and King 1993); locations of important events; 

traditional resource collection locations; religious 

or spiritual sites; sacred places; sites with valued 

vistas; recreation sites; and cemeteries.

Similar criteria apply in the Canadian Provinces with 

local variations.
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 

3

Figure 1-1—(a) Early Indian tribes, cultural areas, and linguistic stocks (Sturtevant 1967) and (b) current probability of fire occurrence (shown on next page) (Finney aand others 2011).
4 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

Figure 1-2—Observed and reconstructed area-burned comparison. Time series of observed total wildfire area burned for 11 

western U.S. States for the period 1916–2009 (bars, adjusted for area reporting bias) (from Littell and others 2009).

b
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 5

The term “cultural resource” is used throughout this 

volume because it is the common vernacular used by 

Federal or State/Provincial land management agencies 

in the United States or Canada, respectively. Other 

organizations, governmental bodies, and individuals 

also use the terms “heritage resources” or “archaeological resources.” The three terms—cultural resources, 

heritage resources, and archaeological resources—may 

have some unique legal implications but from a fire and 

materials effect perspective they are indistinguishable 

and are synonymous herein unless specifically noted 

by an author.

From an ecological perspective, fire is a process 

necessary for the maintenance of viable populations 

of many species because of its direct effects, as well 

as the creation of landscape mosaic of essential habitat conditions (Brown and Smith 2002; Smith 2000). 

Although fire is a vital ecological process, the historical archaeological record of many tribes’ cultural and 

social achievements is increasingly threatened by 

recent increases in fire intensity, frequency, size, and 

subsequent management activities. 

Pre-historically, landscapes typically experienced 

systematic fire return intervals and fires were routinely 

set by indigenous people worldwide for various reasons 

(Denevan 1992; Kay and Simmons 2002; chapter 2). 

Research has documented the wide ranging use of fire 

by Native Americans to manipulate the landscape, 

prepare open areas to plant crops, and increase forage 

for roaming megafauna, such as buffalo, elk, and deer 

(Stewart 2002; Williams 2000). In both written and 

oral histories of many tribes, fire is spoken of as an 

instrument in bringing in animals and new growth, 

thus helping to increase food availability and economic 

security. 

Indigenous people’s detailed traditional knowledge 

about fire, although superficially referenced in various 

writings, has not for the most part been analyzed in 

detail or simulated by resource managers, wildlife 

biologists, and ecologists...Instead, scientists have 

developed the principles and theories of fire ecology, 

fire behavior and effects models, and concepts of 

conservation, wildlife management, and ecosystem 

management largely independent of native examples.

(in Stewart 2002:4)

Studying ancient cultures and their practices may 

help to identify fire use tactics and recognize preservation techniques of both tangible and intangible 

resources that have stood the test of time. Only by 

looking to the past, can we truly prepare for the future 

by ensuring that history does not repeat itself through 

catastrophic events that could be prevented. Thus, the 

study of traditional cultural knowledge and its integration into land and resource management is increasingly 

recognized as a valuable contribution (Berkes 2009; 

Berkes and others 2000; Kimmerer and Lake 2001, 

2007). Current research has also shown a close link 

between the frequency and intensity of anthropogenic 

and lightning caused fires and the amount of woody 

fuel accumulation. For example, in long-needled 

coniferous forest, particularly in the southeastern and 

western United States, these frequently recurring fires 

thinned out the trees, pruned the survivors, and kept 

fuel load low, leading to open grasslands and park-like 

tree stands (Brown and Smith 2002).

In 1905, the United States Congress created the 

United States Forest Service (USFS). Several large 

fires early in the century put fire suppression in the 

forefront of Forest Service fire management. Following 

severe fires in Idaho and Montana, the Chief of the 

Forest Service established in 1935, a “10 a.m.” policy 

(http://www.fs.fed.us/fire/people/aboutus.html). The 

goal of the 10 a.m. policy was to plan and manage each 

fire so as to control the fire by 10 a.m. of the next day 

(Pyne 1982). The 10 a.m. policy became the dominant 

strategy during much of the rest of the 20th century. 

Although somewhat less aggressively due to limited 

resources, other State and Federal agencies also attempted to implement this strategy. In a parallel way, 

Canadian managers sought to limit fire in much of 

Canada. This effort across North America effectively 

lengthened the fire return interval and fostered the 

accumulation of fuels for many forests, woodlands, 

shrublands, and grasslands. The results of this fire 

exclusion policy unwittingly led to hazardous fuel 

levels, fires of ever increasing size and severity, and 

a general decline in ecosystem health (Kaufmann and 

others 2004; Keane and others 2002). 

Although the attempted exclusion of fire was debated 

throughout the 1940s and 1950s, particularly in the 

academic literature, it was the dominant philosophy. 

In 1963, the Leopold Committee issued its report to 

the U.S. National Park Service regarding wildfire 

management issues (Leopold Report, http://www.

nps.gov/history/history/online_books/leopold/leopold.

htm). This report identified the importance of fire in 

restoring and maintaining habitat for several species. 

Throughout the 1970s and 1980s, research continued 

to define the importance of fire in ecosystems and the 

Congress passed several environmental and cultural 

resource protection laws.

The 1960s and 1970s began a period of transition 

in fire policy. Sequoia-Kings Canyon National Park 

in California created the first prescribed natural fire 

program in 1968 (Stephens and Ruth 2005). In 

1977, the Forest Service changed their fire policy to 

emphasize a balanced fire control program, provide 

for natural and planned prescribed fires, and to incorporate fire planning into the land management 

planning process (Nelson 1979). Forest managers, on 

the other hand, were fighting a battle against fire 
6 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

and major fuel accumulation from over half-a-century 

of suppression efforts on Federal, tribal, and private 

lands (Nelson 1979; Stephens and Ruth 2005). It wasn’t 

until years later after several catastrophic fire events 

that the Federal Wildland Fire Management Policy 

was adopted in 1995 (amended in 2001). The Policy, 

its 2001 revision, the 2003 Healthy Forests Restoration Act, and the sequence of costly fire seasons that 

spurred these developments made it clear that fuels 

reduction would remain the driving issue in forest 

management in the United States for the foreseeable 

future (Franklin and Agee 2003). Finally, fire management included more agencies than just the Forest 

Service; the National Park Service, Bureau of Indian 

Affairs, Bureau of Land Management, United States 

Fish and Wildlife Service, and the National Biological Service all became active participants under the 

Federal Wildland Fire Management Policy. Additionally, non-governmental organizations (NGOs) (e.g. The 

Nature Conservancy) developed national, regional, and 

local programs to address the need for increased fire 

use for protection of lives, property, and to promote 

resource benefits (fire@tnc.org). 

Under this new policy, managers are expected to 

reintroduce fire on millions of acres per year to reduce 

hazardous levels of fuel throughout the landscape and 

create healthy ecosystems with fire-adapted species. 

The central message embedded in this policy shift 

is that the foregoing century of fire suppression and 

other management practices have disrupted the balance between land and resource use and have also 

changed people’s sense of place and their reliance on 

public and tribal lands for their livelihood (see Karjala 

and Dewhurst 2003; Moseley and Toth 2004). It is 

ironic that, in many cases, frequent past burning may 

have helped preserve artifacts in the cultural context, 

while today’s wildland fires and prescribed burns are 

impacting and destroying the artifacts and evidence 

of their cultural significance. 

Legal Protection ________________

The Federal/Provincial, tribal/First Nations, and 

local governments in the United States and Canada 

have played a major role in determining the legal protections given to the many different classes of cultural 

resources. Cultural resource specialists, with the help 

of local communities, can interpret and apply these 

legal protections using standards recognized in both 

the United States and Canada. Tribal governments’ 

primary role in the creation of legal protection for 

cultural resources is to be consulted by government 

officials for establishing proper means of protection, 

conservation or mitigation (for the United States see 

E.O. 13175: Consultation and Coordination with Indian 

Tribal Governments). The United States Congress 

passed the National Historic Preservation Act (NHPA) 

in 1966. Although not the first Federal historic preservation law in the United States, the NHPA, unlike 

earlier legislation, such as the Antiquities Act (1906), 

Historic Sites Act (1935), and Reservoir Salvage Act 

(1960), very specifically defined what forms cultural 

resources can take and criteria by which their significance is measured (King 2008; National Park Service 

2006). 

Section 101 of the NHPA authorized creation of a 

National Register of Historic Places (NRHP), the official 

list of significant cultural resources in the United States 

worthy of preservation. The NRHP includes criteria to 

evaluate properties for the National Register (http://

www.achp.gov/nrcriteria.html). These consist of the 

following:

The quality of significance in American history, 

architecture, archaeology, engineering, and culture 

is present in districts, sites, buildings, structures, 

and objects that possess integrity of location, design, setting, materials, workmanship, feeling, and 

association and 

(a) that are associated with events that have 

made a significant contribution to the broad 

patterns of our history; or 

(b) that are associated with the lives of persons

significant in our past; or 

(c) that embody distinctive characteristics of a 

type, period, or method of construction, or that 

represent the work of a master, or that possess 

high artistic values, or that represent a significant 

and distinguishable entity whose components 

may lack individual distinction; or 

(d) that have yielded, or may be likely to yield, 

information important in prehistory or history.

To become a historic property, a cultural resource must 

satisfy several requirements:

•	 Classifiable as a site, building, structure, object, 

or district (aggregates of one or more of these 

categories) (table 1-1);

•	 Except under unique circumstances, achieved 

significance 50 or more years ago;

•	 Assigned definitive geographic boundaries;

•	 Meet one or more of four NRHP criteria for 

evaluation;

•	 Possess and exhibit integrity of location, design, 

setting, materials, workmanship, feeling, and 

association.

Section 106 of the NHPA requires U.S. federal 

agencies to take into account the effects of their 

management actions on historic properties. Simply 

put, without a historic property designation, a potential cultural resource is not provided assurances 

by Federal policy as an important cultural resource, 
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 7

Sidebar 1-1—La Mesa Fire Study

La Mesa Fire, Bandelier National Monument, New Mexico, June 16–22, 1977

References: Traylor and others (1990)

General Information

•	 Elevation: 1,981.2 to 2,743.2 m (6,500 to 9,600 ft)

•	 Vegetation: 75% ponderosa pine or spruce fir and aspen forest; 25% pinyon-juniper

•	 Topography: canyons, drainages and mesas

•	 Type of study: post-fire qualitative analysis of surface materials

Fire Description

•	 Temperature range: temperature not recorded but may have reached a maximum of 800 

°C (1472 °F). Estimated temperature of top 2 inches (5.1 cm) of soil: well below 100 °C 

(212 °F) with maximum temperature. Fire sustained for 10 to 15 minutes.

•	 Duration: 7 days

•	 Relative humidity: 8 to 25% 

•	 Fuel: variable

•	 Type of fire: wildland

•	 Energy release component (ERC): 74 to 80

•	 Burning index (BI): 60 to 104 

The La Mesa Fire study in Bandelier National Monument was the first major post-fire 

investigation of fire effects on heritage resources. The La Mesa Fire started June 16, 1977, 

and burned uncontrolled for 7 days. This was a high intensity wildfire, burning more than 

60 km2 (15,000 acres) of forest and pinyon-juniper woodland. It was the first burn in which 

archaeologists were enlisted to help firefighters avoid damage to archaeological sites.

After the fire, archaeologists surveyed handlines and bulldozer lines to record site disturbances caused by the fire suppression activities. Pre-burn wildlife transects were also 

surveyed archaeologically to evaluate fire effects on sites within a variety of ecological zones. 

Post-burn surveys covered only a small sample of the previously unsurveyed burn area. 

Survey crews encountered 99 archaeological sites, 54 of which were burned (Traylor and 

others 1990). Fire effects were recognized at 51 of these 54 sites (Traylor and others 1990). 

Major impacts of the fire included spalling and crumbling of tuff masonry. Increased soil 

erosion was also recorded as a major indirect fire impact. Fire effects on surface artifacts 

included color change, breakage, and the adherence of residues and sticky adhesions. 

Four prehistoric sites, consisting of small (1 to 2 room) masonry structures were excavated 

to further assess fire effects on artifacts, architecture, plant and animal remains, and dateable materials. Two of the sites were moderately burned and two had been burned severely. 

Structures were excavated to a floor-depth of about 30 cm (11.8 in). Sub-floor test pits were 

also excavated inside the rooms. Laboratory analyses of macrobotanical remains, pollen, soil, 

and faunal remains were conducted to assess fire effects at surface and subsurface levels. 

Samples for obsidian hydration, tree ring dating, archeomagnetic dating, and radiocarbon 

dating were also collected and analyzed (Traylor and others 1990). 

In addition to fire impacts, damages caused by fire suppression and rehabilitation activities were also common. Forty-four of the sites surveyed exhibited some suppression impact 

(Traylor and others 1990:100). Bulldozer impacts to archaeological sites were the most severe. 

Although archaeological monitors worked with hand crews and bulldozer operators during 

the fire suppression, miscommunications caused some sites to be damaged. Fire lines were 

sometimes widened and large safety areas bladed without archaeological consultation. Also, 

bulldozers used for rehabilitation work were not monitored by archaeologists. Due to these 

problems, bulldozers completely leveled eight sites and caused significant architectural 

damage to seven sites (Traylor and others 1990).
8 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

and therefore afforded no consideration under the 

NHPA. However, as seen in table 1-2, museum 

objects, though not on the list of NHPA approved 

fields, contain elements of other entities and are 

often considered outside of their NPS grouping as 

a structure or object.

Owing to the circumstances of history and the benefits of hindsight, historic preservation in Canada has 

taken a different trajectory than in the United States. 

Only recently has the Canadian Federal government 

taken a major role in establishing uniform nationwide preservation standards. Rather, it is provincial 

and territorial governments that have the most explicit 

laws related to historic preservation, albeit they vary 

from one another and are restricted to archaeological 

resources (Parks Canada 2000). The Canadian Federal government currently has no umbrella legislation 

akin to the NHPA, relying instead on various policies 

and directives that support the preservation of cultural 

resources, as well as the Canadian Environmental 

Assessment Act (CEAA) (Canadian Environmental 

Assessment Agency 1996), which is effectively the 

counterpart of NEPA. 

In an effort to promote a standardized approach 

to cultural resources management, Federal, Provincial, territorial and local governments launched the 

Historic Places Initiative in 2000 (http://www.pc.gc.

ca/progs/plp-hpp/plp-hpp1_E.asp). Two important 

consequences of this initiative were the Canadian 

Register of Historic Places (http://www.historicplaces.ca/) and Standards and Guidelines for the 

Conservation of Historic Places in Canada (Parks 

Canada 2003). The Canadian Register lists those 

cultural resources, called “historic places,” formally 

recognized as significant by Federal, Provincial, 

territorial and local governments. The Standards 

and Guidelines define historic places as structures, 

buildings, groups of buildings, districts, landscapes, 

and archaeological sites possessing heritage value. 

In some respects, the Canadian concept of cultural 

resources, as portrayed in law, policy, directives, 

guidelines, and philosophy, is what many practitioners of cultural resources management in the United 

States wish was more explicitly reflected in the NHPA, 

NRHP, and other key components of historic preservation. For example, cultural landscapes are recognized 

as a formal resource type in Canada, whereas in the 

United States the nexus between landscapes and the 

NRHP can be awkward, particularly with respect to 

those associated with traditional socio-cultural groups 

(for example, Evans and others 2001; Goetcheus 2002; 

King 2003). 

Table 1-1—Comparability of U.S. Department of the Interior, National Park Service, 

National Register of Historic Places and Canadian Register of Historic Places 

Cultural Resource Categories.

USDI, National Park Service

National Register of 

Historic Places

Canadian Register of 

Historic Places

Archeological resources Site

Structure

Object

District

Archeological site

District

Structures Building

Structure

Object

District

Building

Structure

District

Cultural landscapes Site

District

Landscape

District

Ethnographic resources Site

Building

Structure

Object

District 

Archeological site

Building

Structure

District

Museum objects N/A N/A

Adapted from USDI, National Park Service (1997), National Register of Historic Places (NRHP); 

Parks Canada 2003.
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 9

Table 1-2—Cultural resource categories of the United States.

Category Definition Examples

Archeological 

resources

The material evidences of past human 

activities. 

Comprised of materials of prehistoric and 

historical origin deposited by individuals of 

any ethnic affiliation, indigenous and other.

Classified and managed as discrete 

archeological sites comprised of a 

combination of artifacts, ecofacts and/or 

features. 

Prehistoric: structural remnants, burials, fire 

hearths, midden (Ch 7), storage facilities, 

flaked and ground stone tools (Ch 4), ceramics, 

caves and rock shelters, rock images (Ch 5), 

and raw material sources (such as lithic 

quarries or culturally modified trees).

Historic (Ch 6): structural ruins, minor 

features, artifacts and ecofacts associated 

with homesteads and other occupation sites; 

industrial complexes related to mining, logging, 

fishing, and agriculture; battlefields, refuse 

dumps, trails, roads, and railroad grades.

Structures Constructed and usually immovable works 

intended to serve human activities in 

prehistory and history. 

Prehistoric and some historic structures are 

also archeological resources, the structural 

designation often being applied in cases 

where a structure is actively maintained to a 

pre-determined condition*

Dams, millraces, ditches, canals, reservoirs, 

bridges, roads, trails, forts, defensive works, 

fences, corrals, rock cairns and earthworks. 

*Some publically-accessible prehistoric cliff 

dwellings in the American Southwest.

See also Ch 6 

Cultural 

landscapes

Geographic areas containing both cultural 

and natural resources associated with 

events, activities, or people that reflect 

human social and ecological adaptations 

and perceptions. 

Characterized by the way humans settle, 

divide, utilize and circulate through them. 

Historic sites or landscapes (cemeteries, 

battlefields, rural communities); historic 

designed landscapes (gardens, parks, estates); 

vernacular landscapes (farming, ranching, 

mining, and ethnic districts, ghost towns); 

ethnographic landscapes (massive geologic 

structures; festival, spiritual, ceremonial 

grounds; sacred sites).

Ethnographic 

resources

Variations of natural resources, standard 

cultural resource types, and intangible 

attributes assigned importance by traditional 

users and seen as vital for cultural 

perpetuation. 

With regard to tangible manifestations, in 

addition to landscapes, ethnographic resources 

are comprised of culturally-important objects, 

plants and animals, archeological sites and 

structures.

Museum objects Comprised of prehistoric and historic 

materials obtained from archeological 

investigations, natural resources such as 

plant specimens and geological samples, 

and archival documentation such as 

field notes and maps, photographs, and 

electronic files. 

Displayed or stored in facilities where 

environmental conditions are strictly 

regulated, such as public museums and 

curation buildings or may be found in 

outdoor exhibits, historic structures, or 

exposed through excavation and left in 

place.

Museum objects include specimen, archival, 

and manuscript collections relating to 

archeology, ethnography, history and natural 

history. 

Modified from USDI National Park Service (1997a).
10 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

Cultural Resources 

Categorized ____________________

The USDI National Park Service (1997a,b) employs 

a classification system for cultural resources that is, 

with some clarification, well suited for the purposes 

of this volume. Specifically, five categories of cultural 

resources are recognized—none of which is mutually 

exclusive.

Canada has a similar system to categorically divide 

its resources, which is represented in table 1-3. We will 

use the NPS system described above for the purposes 

of this volume. For both United States and Canadian 

workers, it is important to understand the connections 

between the two groupings of historic places that are 

represented in table 1-1.

Tangible and Intangible Cultural 

Resources

While both tangible and intangible cultural resources 

can be affected by wildland fire and fire management 

actions, it is the culturally independent (not necessarily 

identified with a specific group of individuals) tangible 

attributes that are the primary focus of this volume 

(culturally dependent intangibles are addressed in 

chapters 8 and 9). Intangible resources are often overlooked because they are not clearly defined, may be 

difficult to place “value” on, and, therefore, are often 

given only limited protection. 

All tangible cultural resources are ultimately 

comprised of materials—raw and synthetic, singular 

and composite, inanimate and living, prehistoric and 

historic—and it is those materials and their spatial 

associations, or context, that are altered by direct, 

independent, and operational effects. Importantly, as 

described in subsequent chapters, cultural resources 

display different vulnerability to those effects.

Traditional Cultural Properties (TCPs) are places 

eligible for inclusion on the NRHP based on associations with traditional living communities, and specifically those historically rooted in and important for 

maintaining the cultural identity of such communities 

(Parker and King 1990). TCPs were devised to account 

for the nexus between the tangible and intangible 

aspects of cultural resources that had generally been 

ignored, and included places of spiritual power, traditional practices, stories, therapeutic qualities, and 

remembrances (King 2003). The importance of such 

places was reconfirmed with the issuance of Executive 

Order (EO) 13007 in 1996, which explicitly addresses 

American Indian “sacred sites,” and requires Federal 

agencies to accommodate access and ceremonial use 

of such sites to religious practitioners, avoid physical 

impacts to these sites, keep the locations of sacred 

sites confidential, and ensure consultation with tribal 

governments regarding sacred sites. 

Fire Management________________

In the United States, the 2001 Federal wildland fire 

management policy recognizes three types of wildland fire: wildfire, prescribed fire, and wildland fire 

use (National Wildfire Coordinating Group 2006, 

http://www.nwcg.gov/pms/pubs/glossary/w.htm). 

Wildland fires are non-structure fires that occur in 

Table 1-3—Cultural resource categories of Canada.

Category Definition

Archeological sites Physical evidence of past human activity found in a 

specific location on or below the ground, or underwater.

Landscapes Exterior spaces that have been assigned cultural—

including spiritual—meaning or have been deliberately 

altered in the past for aesthetic, cultural or function 

reasons. Landscapes include land patterns, landforms, 

spatial organization, vegetation, circulation systems, 

water features, and viewsheds.

Buildings Constructed works created in the past to shelter 

activities related to habitation, business or social 

functions.

Structures Engineered works created in the past primarily 

for purposes other than habitation, including 

transportation, energy development, communications, 

industry, resource extraction and processing, flood 

control and irrigation, and defense.

Adapted from Parks Canada (2003).
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 11

wildlands—tracts with few or no developments—

ranging from remote wilderness to the interface with 

suburban and urban areas (Canadian Council of Forest Ministers 2005; National Wildfire Coordinating 

Group 2006). Wildland fires can result from natural 

phenomena such as lightning, accidental or intentional human sources, or when managed wildland 

fires escape or exceed predetermined parameters. 

Wildfires are unplanned, unwanted wildland fires 

where the management objective is to suppress or 

extinguish the fire. Wildland fire use refers to naturally ignited (lightning-caused) fires managed to 

accomplish specific resource management objectives 

within predetermined locations. Prescribed fires are 

intentionally ignited to meet specific management 

objectives. These fires—usually set in the late fall or 

early spring, or when seasonal conditions are moist 

and relatively stable—are a primary means for fuel 

reduction. In addition to prescribed fire and wildland 

fire use, other techniques such as mechanical thinning and chemical treatments are also employed to 

achieve fuel reduction and resource management 

objectives.

In 2008, the Fire Executive Council (FEC), which is 

charged with providing interagency Federal executivelevel wildland fire policy leadership, direction and 

program oversight in the United States, unveiled 

modifications to the 2001 policy to allow wildland fires 

on Federal lands to be managed with a full spectrum 

of response alternatives (also known as appropriate 

management response or AMR) (Fire Executive Council 

2009). The changes include removing the distinction 

between wildfires and wildland fire use, calling both 

wildfires, and allowing all naturally ignited wildfires 

to be simultaneously managed for multiple objectives 

(for example, protection and resource benefits). Federal 

wildland fire policy will now recognize two, rather than 

three, categories of wildland fire—wildfires (unplanned 

ignitions) and prescribed fires (planned ignitions). The 

Canadian Council of Forest Ministers (2005) also recognizes these two terms and uses similar definitions.

Categories of Effects

For the purposes of this volume, the term effects

simply refers to the observable alterations—permanent or temporary, reversible or irreversible—to the 

tangible or intangible attributes of cultural resources 

resulting from wildland fire or fire management actions. In most contexts, observable changes will have 

a negative connotation with respect to the “pristine” 

pre-disturbance conditions where an artifact, feature, 

site, or landscape presumably had its maximum 

value as a cultural resource for purposes of meeting 

the intent of various laws. However, in some cases 

fire or fire management may play a positive role in 

restoring or maintaining a cultural landscape or 

Traditional Cultural Property (TCP). Likewise it may 

be instrumental in the application of Traditional 

Ecological Knowledge (TEK) in the maintenance or 

restoration of cultural traditions (c.f., Kimmerer and 

Lake 2001; Lake 2007; Stewart 2002). The purpose of 

the following classification is to attempt to develop an 

objective, non-value-laden perspective on fire effects. 

The classification attempts to isolate observable, measureable effects (i.e., tangible fire effects) from those 

that involve one’s inner relationship with the cultural 

resource (i.e., intangible fire effects) (fig. 1-3). 

The classification emphasizes the distinction between 

biophysical processes and human actions/reactions. 

Biophysical processes are further distinguished by 

the time of occurrence: those that occur at the time 

of the fire (First-Order) vs. those that act upon the 

fire-altered biophysical system after the fire (SecondOrder). The classification is intended to emphasize 

the interdisciplinary nature of the relationship of 

cultural resources to fire and fire management. It is 

recognized that the classification stems from a western 

scientific perspective. It is argued, however, that the 

knowledge, skills, and methods applied to understand 

each component of the classification are substantially 

independent. Earlier volumes of the “Rainbow Series” 

provide substantial synthesis and review of tangible 

fire effects on fauna (Smith 2002), flora (Brown and 

Smith 2002), air (Sandberg and others 2003), soils and 

water (Neary and others 2005), and exotic-invasive 

plants (Zouhar and others 2007). 

The effects of wildland fire, prescribed burning, 

and related fire management actions on cultural 

resources are divided into two major categories, direct 

and indirect: 

•	 Direct effects are those caused by fire and its 

byproducts, such as smoke and ash. Direct effects 

result from the physical state of the fire environment (fuels, weather, terrain) and the ignition 

pattern (heading-fire, flanking-fire, backing-fire) 

(chapter 2). Direct effects are the result of combustion and subject to all the laws of physics and 

chemistry. Because temperature is a readily measurable metric, many direct effects are described 

as functions of the temperature and duration of 

heating (chapters 2, 3, 4, and 6). However, in 

most cases fire and cultural resource material 

temperature histories are unknown. Thus fire 

severity and direct effects are observed ex post 

facto. Cracking, crazing, spalling, pot-lidding, 

melting, smudging, and sooting are all direct 

effects that result from combustion, combustion 

byproducts, and heat transfer mechanisms 

acting upon various material artifacts, features, 

sites, or landscapes (table 1-4). Regardless of what 

role humans may have had in creating the fire 

environment (e.g., past cultural and management 
12 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

practices), the direct effects would occur regardless of whether or not people were there to observe. 

The term “First-Order Fire Effects” is frequently 

applied to describe the direct effects, particularly in National Wildfire Coordinating Group 

(NWCG) sponsored fire effects training courses 

in the United States, (e.g., Rx-310 and Rx-510).

•	 Indirect effects are those effects that are derived from or dependant on the fire’s occurrence. 

If the fire had not occurred indirect effects could 

not occur. Indirect effects are of two types: 

biophysical processes acting on the fire-altered 

environment and human responses. Indirect effects occur when wildland fire or associated fire 

management actions change the context in which 

a cultural resource is found, leaving it vulnerable 

to impacts. Common examples of indirect effects 

include post-fire erosion, carbon contamination in 

archaeological deposits, disturbances from firekilled tree-fall (see for example sidebars on tree 

root burnout and retardants in chapter 9), and 

vandalism/looting (Christensen and others 1992).

If fire occurred in the absence of human observation 

or intervention, post fire biophysical processes, such as 

erosion, weathering, succession, and herbivory would 

still take place following the laws that govern such processes. These effects are referred to as “Second-Order 

Fire Effects.” Humans are affected by, and respond to, 

fire and the threat of fire in various ways that are as 

complex as the human experience. The impacts of fire 

on the human environment are defined as “Third-Order 

Fire Effects.” Third-Order effects1

 may be tangible or 

intangible. Tangible effects are the purposeful, intentional, observable, measurable human responses to the 

perceived risks or opportunities presented by fire. 

1 The concept of Third-Order fire effects developed from discussions with Frank K. Lake while Ryan and Lake were on the Rx-510 

Advanced Fire Effects Course cadre at the National Advanced Fire 

and Resource Institute, Tucson, AZ. Lake (2007) discusses ThirdOrder effects in the context of traditional ecological knowledge 

(TEK).

Figure 1-3—Fire impacts on cultural resources. Direct, First-Order effects result from biophysical processes 

related to the local combustion environment as it is juxtaposed to cultural resources and the physical properties 

of the resource. Indirect effects derive from biophysical processes following the fire (Second-Order effects) or 

human responses to fire (Third-Order effects) (synthesized from numerous sources).
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 13

Table 1-4—Common nomenclature to describe the first order fire effects of fire on archaeological 

resources (adapted from Buenger 2003).

CB = Combustive Residue – The presence of tar deposits on the surface of a specimen 

formed as a by-product of the pyrolysis and combustion of organic materials. The residue is 

a by-product of combustion and is not composed of pure carbon, nor is it an intact organic 

compound (DeBano 1998). It is a highly nitrogenous condensate tar substance (Yokelson 

et al. 1997). The residue can be tacky or semi-solid immediately post-fire and generally 

appears as dark brown to black droplets on the surface of a specimen, may give artifacts a 

blackened appearance if sufficiently combusted.

CC/OX = Color Change/Oxidation – (1). An overall darkening or reddening of a specimen 

from its original color. It is generally the result of exposure to temperatures sufficient enough 

to alter the mineral composition of the specimen (this definition used to code sandstone 

blocks within architectural sample units) (i.e., Cliff House Formation Sandstone changing 

from its original orange-buff to a deep red color).

(2). The presence of and orange/brown discoloration on an artifact. It is generally due to the 

presence of oxidized sediment on a specimen where sediment had adhered to its surface 

prior to exposure to heating. Heating of the sediment results in discoloration that adheres or 

permeates the surface of a specimen.

POX = Paint Oxidation– The oxidation of pigment (organic or mineral) on decorated ceramic 

specimens. Alterations can include a change in color from the original pigment (black to 

red), or the combustion of the pigment entirely. 

CC = Color Change – (lithic specimens only) An observable color change of a specimen 

from original, pre-fire, color. Generally due to an alteration in the mineral composition of a 

specimen during exposure to heat.

CZ = Crazing – The presence of fine, non-linear or latticed cracks on the surface of a 

specimen. 

SP = Spalling – The exfoliation of a portion of the original surface of exposed rock or a 

specimen due to differential heating and pressure release. It is generally the result of steam 

buildup in areas of the specimen that have impurities or elevated moisture content.

SPS = Spall Scars – The presence of concave depressions on the surface of a specimen 

where it is evident that a portion of the surface was exfoliated due to spalling, but the actual 

spall was not observed in situ. Over time, associated spalls have weathered or eroded. 

PL = Potlid Fracturing (lithic specimens only) – Similar to spalling, but specific to lithic 

artifacts manufactured from cryptocrystalline silicate rocks such as chert. The fracture is 

characterized by a circular pit on the surface of the specimen. The pit represents the area in 

which the original portion of the surface has been exfoliated due to differential heating and 

pressure release. The exfoliated section is generally circular, flat on the dorsal side, and 

convex on the ventral side (resembling the lid of a cooking pot).

FR = Fracturing – The fracturing of a specimen into multiple pieces, and/or the presence of 

fractures or fissures that penetrate deeply into a specimen.

WFR = Weathered Fracturing – The fracturing of a thermally altered architectural block over 

time due to mechanical weathering. Fine cracks or fracture lines induced by exposure to 

heat become exacerbated due to mechanical weathering processes. Fracturing is often 

patterned and affects a large portion of the specimen.
14 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

These include suppression, rehabilitation, and mitigation about which volumes are written. These “realtime” active management-related effects are often 

referred to as Operational Effects because they are 

associated with typical fire management operations. 

Changes in recreational use, hunting, and gathering, 

for example, are observable and measurable and 

are, therefore, also tangible Third-Order effects. In 

contrast, the effects of fire, fire suppression, or fuels 

treatment-restoration activities on humans’ spiritual or emotional sense of well being are intangible 

Third-Order fire effects. These intangible effects 

are a reflection of humanity’s complex co-evolution 

with fire. Traditional Cultural Properties (TCP) are 

identifiable and documentable places and as such 

are tangible cultural resources (King 2003; Parker 

1993; Parker and King 1990), but how a person or 

group of people feel about the impacts of fire or fire 

management on a TCP is an intangible fire effect. 

The development of intangible Third-Order fire effects knowledge can only be obtained through close 

communication and collaboration with cultural leaders of affected communities (chapter 8). 

Material effects receive greater attention than 

operational and intangible effects in this Volume, 

particularly in chapters 2 through 7. The processes 

influencing direct effects are presented in chapter 2, 

while chapters 3 through 7 address those impacts with 

respect to specific materials. Operational effects resulting from activities associated with managing wildland 

fires, such as the construction of firelines, application 

of fire retardants, and vegetation clearing are discussed 

in “Management Implications,” chapter 9. 

What is the Objective of This 

Volume? _______________________

The main objective of this volume is to define cultural 

resources, provide information about the mechanisms 

that affect cultural resources, and identify management 

alternatives to prevent (or limit) adverse impacts within 

the proper legal framework. This basic information creates a level playing field in fire situations, where fire 

managers value cultural resources, cultural resource 

specialists understand fire, and both management 

groups comprehend what effects could occur without 

proper mitigation. Chapters 8 and 9 also identify 

techniques to facilitate better communication between 

groups to improve protection through consultation. 

This volume is intended to be used as a reference for 

both cultural resource specialists and fire managers 

during their planning processes. The intended audience includes resource and fire managers employed by 

public, tribal, and private land management agencies, 

non-governmental organizations, private contractors, 

historic preservation officers, and researchers. Particular emphasis is given to providing guidance for 

those in the realm of cultural resource management 

(often called CRM), individuals actively engaged in 

identifying and managing cultural resources before, 

during, and after wildland fires, and preparing and 

reviewing fire-related environmental compliance and 

land management documents (for example, land and 

fire management plans, prescribed fire burn plans, 

and community wildfire protection plans). 

We hope to inform the reader not only of the subject matter, but provide meaningful examples, legal 

implications, and a well defined connection between 

the effects of fire and cultural resources. In addition to 

understanding these connections, the reader can also 

understand their role in both planned and unplanned 

fire situations. Each chapter provides basic information 

and discussion that could be used for public education 

on the subject. This volume is also intended to provide 

direction for protection of cultural resources within the 

legal framework. Our hope is to bring both cultural 

resource and fire managers to a clear understanding 

of their mutual legal responsibility for the protection 

of cultural entities. Above and beyond legalities, this 

volume highlights the importance of working together 

with local communities. 

This is the first comprehensive summary of fire and 

cultural resources inclusive of Canada and the United 

States, covering a wide range of cultural resource 

categories as well as describing the variability of fire 

on different landscapes. The United States Department of Agriculture (USDA) Forest Service, Rocky 

Mountain Research Station has produced a series 

of documents that assimilate current knowledge of 

wildland fire effects relevant to the management of 

ecosystems, including fauna (Smith 2000), flora (Brown 

and Smith 2000), air (Sandberg and others 2002), soil 

and water (Neary and others 2005) and non-native 

invasive plants (Zouhar and others 2008). Many of 

these same topics were addressed in the first version 

of this “Rainbow Series” volume that was published 

in the late 1970s and early 1980s. The Rainbow Series 

volumes encompass the United States and Canada in 

geographic coverage, but many of the principles can be 

applied to other regions of the globe where wildland 

fires occur. 
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 15

Chapter 2: 

Fire Behavior and Effects: 

Principles for Archaeologists

Fire is a natural component of earth’s ecosystems. 

Fire has impacted most landscapes of the Americas, 

having left evidence of its passing in trees, soils, fossils, and cultural artifacts (Andreae 1991; Benton and 

Reardon 2006; Biswell 1989; Bowman and others 

2009; Boyd and others 2005; Cochrane and others 

1999; DeBano and others 1998; Jurney and others 

2004; Kilgore and Taylor 1979; Moore 1972; Nevle 

and Bird 2008; Pausas and Keeley 2009; Scott 

2000, 2009; Swetnam and Anderson 2008; Swetnam 

and Betancourt 1990, 1998). Fires burn throughout 

a range of intensities from smoldering flameless fires 

producing little if any smoke to creeping fires with 

short, thin flames to raging crown fires with walls of 

flames 50 meters (164feet) high, or more. The duration 

of a fire’s passing may be as short as tens-of-seconds 

in the case of a fast moving surface or crown fire or as 

long as a day in smoldering ground fire. As fires burn 

throughout this range of intensities and durations the 

impact on the environment and the cultural resources 

therein varies tremendously. 

Wildland fire behavior is highly varied due to such 

factors as the type of vegetation/fuel and its moisture 

Kevin C. Ryan

Cassandra Koerner

content, atmospheric humidity, wind speed, and terrain. The spread and behavior of each fire is fairly 

unique, which can make fire seem both mysterious 

and unpredictable at times. However, the process 

is a fairly well understood phenomenon. Wildland 

fire is predictable in so far as both the current and 

antecedent weather conditions are reasonably well 

known. The state of the pre-burn fuels and weather 

are highly variable both spatially and temporally. 

The largest source of variation in fire behavior is local variation in the vegetation/fuel distribution (Ryan 

2002; Turner and others 1999). It is this variability 

that most limits our ability to predict a fire’s effects 

on cultural resources. This is why it is desirable to 

have local fuels and weather data when planning, 

implementing, monitoring and reconstructing a fire. 

In the case of wildfire, pre-burn conditions often must 

be inferred from post-fire proxy data, for example inferring preburn conditions from those in a “similar” 

near-by unburned area. Predicting fire behavior and 

understanding its effects requires knowledge of the fire 

environment, heat transfer principles, the responses 

of various artifact materials to heat, and to a lesser 
16 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

extent, the chemicals released by fire (such as ash or 

smoke) or used in fire suppression (such as retardants or foams). Models exist to predict fire behavior 

and its effects through interpreting weather and fuel 

conditions. It is important for managers to recognize 

that some factors cannot be controlled; there will 

always be spatial variation, adverse environmental 

conditions, and complex vegetative structures that 

make prescription development an inexact science. As 

we gain a better understanding of the effects of fire on 

cultural resources, we must take appropriate action 

to reduce and manage risk to these assets.

The fire science literature includes a broad spectrum 

of interrelated topics. Terminology within the field 

varies in part because of the varying space and time 

scales. For example, spatial scales vary from individual 

fuel particles to landscapes, and time scales vary from 

fire residence times measured in seconds to fire return 

intervals measured in years to fire regimes measured 

in centuries, depending on the author’s subject matter. Numerous previous authors have described fire 

processes at multiple scales from combustion fundamentals to broad-scale ecological interpretations. The 

reader interested in more fully understanding the 

field of wildland fire science is referred to those texts 

(see Agee 1993; Chandler and others 1983a,b; DeBano 

and others 1998; Gill and others 1981; Johnson and 

Myanishi 2001; Omi 2005; Pyne and others 1996; 

Sugihara and others 2006; Wright and Bailey 1982).

The purpose of this chapter is to provide cultural 

resource specialists with a primer on fuels and fire to 

enable them to work more effectively with fire managers in developing fuel treatment and restoration 

plans, managing wildfires, and conducting post-fire 

rehabilitation. This chapter provides a scientific foundation for predicting the potential impacts of fire on 

cultural resources. It also defines terms and concepts 

and identifies their practical implications to cultural 

resources. Prescribed fire and wildfire conditions 

associated with damage to cultural resources are discussed, as are ways to integrate planning measures 

to mitigate fire’s effects on cultural resources. 

Fire Basics _____________________

To either predict or assess the effects of fire on cultural 

resources, it is necessary to understand a few basic fire 

concepts. There are three essential conditions that must 

be present for a fire to ignite and continue burning; 

these three factors comprise the “fire triangle” (fig. 2-1 

bottom left). There must be fuel to burn, a supply of 

oxygen to support combustion, and sufficient heat to 

cause successive ignition of fuel particles. Without 

all three components, fire cannot exist. Indeed, fire 

suppression tactics rely on this fundamental principle 

and design suppression strategies to either remove 

fuel (for example fireline construction and burnout), 

remove oxygen (for example to smother with dirt or 

foam) or reduce heat (for example to quench with water 

or retardants). 

Fire affects biophysical processes across multiple 

temporal and spatial scales from micro-scale phenomenon (e.g., an effect on an individual plant or single 

cultural resource) to broad landscape patterns and 

processes. The “fire triangle” (fig. 2-1 lower left) is 

appropriate at the combustion scale, a small localized 

area where fuels making up the fuel bed are relatively 

homogeneous. The “fire environment scale” (fig. 2-1 

second from bottom) is appropriate at the scale at which 

fuels treatment and restoration projects are planned 

and implemented. The “fire regime scale” (fig. 2-1 

second from top) is appropriate for describing the role 

of fire in shaping ecosystem structure and function. 

Archaeologists, paleontologists, and those who study 

human development and migration often consider a 

higher, paleo-fire scale (Rickards 2010; Ruddiman 

2003, 2007; Scott 2000, 2009) (fig. 2-1 upper right) 

(adapted from Cochrane and Ryan 2009; Moritz and 

others 2005; Reinhardt and others 2001; Scott 2000).

Figure 2-1—The multiple scales of fire (adapted from Scott 

2000; Reinhardt and others 2001; Moritz and others 2005; 

Cochrane and Ryan 2009). 
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 17

Combustion

Combustion is a physical process involving the rapid 

oxidation of fuels releasing carbon dioxide, water, 

mineral ash (e.g., Ca, Mg, K) and numerous other 

compounds, the chemistry of which varies with the 

type of fuel burning and the efficiency of combustion. 

The rapid oxidation of fuels also produces detectable 

heat and light. 

Combustion is divided into four phases: preheating (or preignition), flaming, smoldering, and glowing (DiNenno and others 1995; Grishin 1997; Pyne 

and others 1996; Williams 1982). The fire’s phase 

is dependent on the nature and condition of the fuel 

and oxygen availability. Wildland vegetation burns 

by turbulent diffusion flames in successive interactions between combustion gases and unburned fuel. 

Energy released by combustion of gases is absorbed 

by solid fuel particles in the preheating or first phase 

of combustion. 

Preheating is an endothermic or energy absorbing 

phase. As the flame front approaches a fuel particle 

its temperature increases, gradually at first, then 

more rapidly. At about 100 °C (212 °F), free water 

begins to rapidly boil leaving an outer shell of dry fuel 

(table 2-1). The amount of energy needed to vaporize 

water contained in the fuel increases with the moisture 

content of the fuel. In the case of live, actively growing 

fuels the moisture content may be quite high (100 to 

200 percent on an oven dry basis). As the particle continues to absorb heat, bound water and low molecular 

weight volatile compounds (such as waxes, terpenes, 

and resins) vaporize, and decomposition (pyrolysis) of 

solid fuel (principally composed of cellulose) begins. 

If the decomposition rate is fast enough to form a 

combustible mixture of vapors (carbonaceous gases), 

flaming combustion results. 

Flaming combustion, the second phase where 

nearly all destructive fires occur (DeHaan 1997; 

Williams 1982), is an exothermic process. Flaming 

involves the combustion of gases (gas-phase) evolved 

from the preheating of the solid fuel. This energy is 

critical to the preheating of adjacent fuel particles and 

sustaining the chain reaction. In wildland fuels where 

oxygen is not usually limiting, fuel particles burst into 

flame at around 325 °C to 350 °C (617 °F to 662 °F) 

(ignition temperature) with a rapid rise in the local 

temperature. During the flaming phase, luminescent 

flames are produced as a flame envelope develops above 

the solid fuel. Theoretically, temperatures are much 

higher, 1800 °C to 2200 °C (3272 °F to 3992°F) where 

chemical bonds are being broken and flames can’t exist 

below around 1300 °C (2372 °F) (Satio 2001). However, 

as the flame envelope includes many products of 

incomplete combustion, noncombustible particles, and 

cooler air entrained into the combustion zone from 

the surrounding area, measured flame temperatures 

are usually between 500 °C and 1000 °C (932 °F and 

1832 °F) (Butler and others 2004; DeBano and others 

1998; Pyne and others 1996; Sullivan and others 2003). 

Solid fuels burn at high temperatures, distilling volatile substances while creating charcoal. To continue 

to burn, fuels must continue to produce energy faster 

than it is lost to the surrounding environment. When 

the energy release rate drops before all volatiles have 

been liberated, flames become discontinuous and the 

fire transitions into the smoldering phase (Bertschi 

and others 2003). 

Table 2-1—Temperatures associated with phases of combustion.

Temperature °C Effect

0-100 Preheating of fuel: free water is evaporated

100-200 Preheating of fuel: bound water and low molecular weight compounds 

volatilized, decomposition of cellulose (pyrolysis) begins, solid fuel is 

converted into gaseous vapors

200-300 Preheating of fuel: thermal degradation continues more rapidly

300-325 Ignition temperature in well aerated wildland fuels: transition to flaming 

325-400 Flaming phase: rapid increase in decomposition of solid fuel

400-500 Flaming phase: gas production rate peaks around 400 °C and declines 

between 450 °C and 500 °C as all residual volatile compounds are 

released. 

500-1000 Flaming phase: Maximum flame temperatures within flames may approach 

1600 °C in deep flame envelops but temperatures of 500 °C to 1000 °C 

are more typical.

500-800 Glowing phase: residual carbonaceous fuel (charcoal) burns by glowing 

combustion. The combustion of charcoal is associated with the 

liberation of CO and CO2
18 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

Smoldering combustion is often characterized by 

a complex suite of carbon-rich compounds produced 

by incomplete combustion including large amounts 

of hydrocarbon-rich (e.g., tars) smoke (Bertschi and 

others 2003; Urbanski and others 2009; Yokleson 

and others 1997). Smoldering fire often occurs when 

oxygen depletes during flaming combustion. The fire 

still emits high temperatures but produces no visible 

flame. Once the entire fuel particle has been heated to 

around 500 °C (932 °F) the volatile compounds necessary to support flaming (gas-phase) combustion have 

been exhausted, smoke ceases to rise from the charcoal, 

and the remaining charcoal burns by glowing (solidphase) combustion. This phase continues until either 

all the fuel becomes non-combustible ash and the fire 

goes out, or until the fuel is quenched or cooled leaving 

charcoal residues. Until the latter cool-down stage of 

a fire, flaming and smoldering occur simultaneously 

to some degree as evidenced by the flickering flames 

of a dying campfire, for example. 

Fires vary in their combustion efficiency. Combustion 

efficiency is the ratio of heat released to the maximum 

heat that could be released in complete combustion 

in a well ventilated dry environment (Urbanski and 

others 2008; Ward 2001). This is a function of the 

fuel’s chemistry, principally its moisture content and 

the fuel bed packing ratio, which affects the flow of 

air to the combustion zone. The packing ratio is the 

proportion of the fuel bed volume that contains fuel 

particles (fuel volume + air volume = total fuel bed 

volume). It is a measure of how tightly fuels are packed 

together, which affects air flow into the fuel bed during combustion. To illustrate the influence of packing 

ratio, consider the spatial distribution of needles in 

a conifer tree vs. those same needles compacted in 

the forest floor duff after a number of years on the 

ground. The former burns rapidly and efficiently by 

flaming combustion whereas the latter burns slowly 

and inefficiently by smoldering combustion. Combustion efficiencies range from as high as 95 percent to 

as low as 50 percent (Grishin 1997; Pyne and others 

1996; Urbanski and others 2009). Flaming, the second phase, which is gaseous combustion, is the most 

efficient. Products of incomplete combustion include 

carbon monoxide, nitrous oxides, sulfurous oxides, 

hydrocarbons, and solids (soot). The darker the smoke, 

the more unburned carbon particles (soot) are present 

and the lower the combustion efficiency (Bytnerowicz 

and others 2008; Urbanski and others 2009). Light 

colored smoke indicates more complete combustion of 

fuel elements, lower production of soot and, therefore, 

higher combustion efficiency. If pyrolysis occurs in the 

absence of oxygen, such as may occur in buried wood 

or organic artifacts, destructive distillation occurs at 

higher temperatures (600 °C (1112 °F)).

Heat Transfer

The three primary mechanisms of heat transfer are 

radiation, convection, and conduction. All bodies emit 

radiant energy as a function of their surface temperature. Radiation is the flow of electromagnetic energy 

through space at the speed of light. The radiant energy 

received at the surface of a body (for example, a fuel 

element, artifact, or rock art) decreases rapidly with 

distance from the heat source or flame and increases 

rapidly as the temperature of the emitting source increases (that is, as fire intensity increases as exhibited 

by the size or temperature of the flames) (sidebar 2-1) 

(Butler and others 2004; Pyne and others 1996; Sullivan 

and others 2003). The emissivity of a flame increases 

with the depth of flaming zone and approaches unity 

(i.e., the maximum possible for a black body emitter 

at around 1 meter (3.28 feet) (Butler 1993; Butler and 

others 2004). The actual distance depends somewhat 

on the efficiency of combustion. Beyond this distance 

deeper flame zone depths do not emit more radiation. 

Deeper flame zone depths are, however, associated 

with taller flames that can heat bodies at somewhat 

greater distances. Larger flames also are associated 

with greater convective heat transport. 

Sidebar 2-1—Impact of Flames on 

Rock Art

Cultural resources may be directly or indirectly impacted by the passage of a wildland fire. Direct or first 

order impacts include the effects of heat (fig. S1.1); the 

deposition of combustion products (e.g., tars, soot and ash); 

and the exposure of cultural resources to discovery. The 

latter may lead to increased vandalism. Cultural resources 

may also be indirectly impacted by fires. Indirect or second 

order effects include the destruction or redistribution of 

artifacts due to accelerated erosion of the burned site. Of 

the direct impacts, the effects of exposure to high heat are 

the most critical concern. Elevated temperature during 

wildland fire is the issue of greatest concern. Above ground 

cultural resources may be bathed in flames where they 

are exposed to both high convective and radiant heating 

(fig. S1.2). Resources may be exposed to the smoke and 

hot gasses above the flames where convective heating is 

the dominant source of damage. The potential for damage increases with the intensity or energy release rate 

of the fire as is visually apparent by larger flames. The 

distance at which damage can occur increases with the 

size of the flames (fig. S1.3). 
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 19

Figure S1.1. Spalling of rock art following the 2003 Hammond Fire, Manti 

LaSal NF, Utah (Johnson 2004). Pictograph damaged by heat from forest 

fire (photo Clay Johnson, Ashley NF).

Figure S1.2. Convective and radiant 

heat from fires are a major source 

of damage to above ground cultural 

resources such as rock art.

Figure S1.3. Radiant heat flux 

received by a rock surface or a 

log cabin wall decreases with 

distance from the flame envelope and increases with the size 

of the flame envelope. The more 

intense the fire, as exhibited by 

the larger the flame, the greater 

the distance that damage can 

occur.
20 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

Convection is the transfer of energy within liquids 

and gases from a heat source (flame) to a cooler area 

by transport of energy in the form of heated molecules. 

In contrast to the typical lay use of a fluid as describing a liquid, gasses behave as fluids in a physics and 

engineering context, that is gasses flow from places of 

high temperature towards places of lower temperature. 

Convective heat transport is a result of the fluid motion of gases and particulates (Cheney and Sullivan 

2008; Cochrane and Ryan 2009; DeBano and others 

1998; Pyne and others 1996; Van Wagtendonk 2006). 

Flame and billowing smoke above a wildland fire are 

the most visible examples of convective heat transport. 

Radiation and convection can only heat the surface 

of an opaque substance (for example, fuels or artifacts). 

The heating of the interior of the substance occurs 

through conduction. Conduction is the transfer of 

energy through a substance by the direct imparting 

of heat from molecule to molecule without appreciable 

movement of molecules within the substance, which 

is extremely important for heat transfer within solids 

such as fuel particles. Likewise, conduction is critical 

for transferring heat to artifacts buried in the soil 

profile. The rate of heat movement within objects depends on the temperature gradient across the object 

and its thermal conductivity. Metals generally are 

great conductors but wood, forest litter, and air are 

poor. 

Spatial and temporal variation in fire behavior, 

variations in the exposure of cultural materials, and 

the thermal properties of those materials all interact 

to influence how fire affects cultural resources. From 

a small fire that could be considered a point source, 

radiation decreases with the square of the distance. 

However, in wildland fires where flame fronts approximate two-dimensions (for example a line of surface 

fire burning through a fuel bed) or three-dimensions 

(for example a wall of flames from a crown fire) radiation decreases much more slowly with distance 

(sidebar 2-1). This helps explain, however, why two 

surfaces or surface artifacts in close proximity might 

experience different degrees of damage. If two nearby 

artifacts “see” significantly different flame emissivities 

owing to their particular viewing of the fire, they will 

be differentially affected. Most substances found in 

nature as well as most human-made materials consist 

of mixtures of compounds each with their own thermal properties. Differences in thermal conductivity 

and thermal expansion of various compounds within 

a material lead to variable heat transfer rates and 

internal stresses. These forces can cause structural 

failure such as exfoliation or spalling of rock (lithic) 

materials, fracturing of ceramic artifacts, and shattering of glass. Because soils are porous, multiple heat 

transfer mechanisms occur simultaneously in soils, 

but conduction dominates, particularly after moisture 

has been driven off at around 100 °C (212 °F) (Albini 

and others 1996; Campbell and others 1994, 1995; 

Massman and others 2010).

Under suitably severe conditions, fire may spread 

beyond a fire’s perimeter by spotting, the lofting and 

transporting of burning embers or sparks through the 

convection column and wind thereby initiating new 

fires up to 1 km (0.6 mi.) or more (Albini 1981b, 1983). 

This fourth mechanism, a special case of convective 

heat transfer, is referred to as mass transport and is of 

particular concern to the protection of organic cultural 

resources—for example, cabins—at some distance from 

a fire (see chapter 9). 

The practical significance of heat transfer mechanisms to cultural resources will be discussed in subsequent sections.

Fire Behavior Principles

Fires in wildland fuels are predominantly free burning, that is they expand or propagate by successive ignition of fuel elements along their perimeter. Figure 2-2 

illustrates combustion zones and flame characteristics 

commonly found in the fire science literature. Prior 

to ignition, fuels must be raised to ignition temperature. Fuels ahead of the spreading fire are preheated 

by radiation and convection (fig. 2-2a). The radiative 

power of the flame approaches unity, the theoretical 

maximum, as the depth of the flame zone approaches 

1 m (3.28 feet) as illustrated by yellow in the flame. 

Radiation from deeper flames, as illustrated in red, 

no longer contributes to preheating of fuels ahead of 

the fire. Energy from larger flames does contribute to 

increased turbulence and convective heat transport 

thereby increasing the likelihood and effectiveness of 

flame contact with unburned fuels ahead of the fire as 

well as the lofting of embers. Flames typically pulsate 

with the local wind and the flame tilt angle varies, 

periodically bathing fuels ahead of the fire in flames. 

Thus both radiation and convection are important for 

preheating and igniting fuels ahead of the fire. Flame 

zone temperatures are variable depending on the rate 

of spread and type of fuel burned but are typically in 

the 325 °C to 800 °C (617 °F to 1472 °F) range. The 

deeper the flame zone, the higher the temperature. 

Where the human eye sees the visible flame tip depends somewhat on local lighting conditions. Flame 

tip temperatures are in the 500 °C to 600 °C (932 °F 

to 1112 °F) range. Flame length is the best visual indicator of the fire’s energy release rate (fig. 2-2b). The 

depth of burn is illustrated by the reduced thickness 

in the fuel bed plane with the passage of the fire (fig. 

2-2a,b). Flames at the head of an advancing fire lean 

into unburnt fuel preheating it. Fireline intensity, as 

manifested in the length of flames as well as the flame 

zone depth (fig. 2-2), is at its maximum at this location 

on the perimeter (Cheney and Sullivan 2008) (fig. 2-3). 
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 21

Figure 2-2—Stylized flame zone characteristics (a), combustion phases, and dominant 

heat transfer mechanism (b) (adapted from Rothermel 1972; Pyne and others 1996; Cochrane 

and Ryan 2009). 

Figure 2-3—The parts of a moving fire (from Cheney 

and Sullivan 2008). 

(a)

(b)
22 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

Here heat transfer by radiation and convection are also 

at their maximum. Likewise, the potential for lofting 

burning embers and downwind spotting is maximized 

at the head of a fire’s perimeter (fig. 2-3). At the rear of 

the fire, where the fire is backing either into the wind 

or down-slope, flame length is at its minimum and 

flames typically lean over the burned fuel, reinforcing 

the smoldering phase. The flame zone depth is also at 

its minimum but, particularly in fine surface fuels, the 

slower advance of the fire (termed spread rate) is also 

associated with more complete burnout and greater 

duration of surface heating (Cheney 1981; Cheney and 

Sullivan 2008). On the flank, the fireline intensity and 

flame length are intermediate. Flames may lean either 

over the unburned fuel or the burned fuel depending 

on local variations of in-drafts or wind. The effect can 

often be seen in char marks on tree trunks or physical structures, which indicate the direction of wind at 

that point in time when a fire passed. It is common 

to find char marks that indicate local winds at right 

angles to the prevailing spread direction. Fires often 

pulsate, surging forward at several areas along the 

fire’s perimeter, and fireline intensity increases where 

adjacent flanks of the fire converge. Thus, there can 

be considerable variation in fire behavior and effects 

even within relatively homogeneous fuels (Catchpole 

and others 1982, 1992; Cheney and Sullivan 2008; 

Finney 1998, 1999; Ryan 2002). Fire intensity, flame 

size, and temperatures within a fire generally vary 

within a fire’s perimeter. Head fires are more intense 

overall but backfires can be more effective at heating 

the ground surface (Fahnestock and Hare 1964; Hare 

1961; Lindenmuth and Byram 1948; Martin and 

Davis 1960; Stinson and Wright 1969; Trollope 1978). 

For example, in light surface fuels Lindenmuth and 

Byram (1948) found head-fires were hotter at heights 

above 0.5 meters (~18 inches) whereas backing-fires 

were hotter below 0.5 meters (~18 inches). 

There are numerous decision support tools that enable managers to predict and manage fire behavior and 

effects whether in planning fuels treatment or restoration projects or suppressing and rehabilitating wildland 

fires. The succeeding sections provide cultural resource 

specialists with additional knowledge and background 

necessary to work effectively with fire managers in 

order to predict and manage fire effects on cultural 

resources. Principles and models commonly used by 

fire managers in the United States and Canada are 

described.

The Many Scales of Fire __________

The characteristics of fire vary within individual fires 

as fuel and environmental conditions vary in time and 

space (fig. 2-1). Fire concepts change across spatial and 

temporal scales. At the finest scale, individual fuel beds 

ignite, burn, and transfer energy to their surroundings at the combustion scale. This is the scale of the fire 

triangle familiar to all fire fighters. At this scale, heat, 

oxygen, and fuel are the important elements. At this 

microsite scale, combustion events range on the order 

of several seconds for the passage of a flaming front to 

a few days in the case of smoldering peat fires. Their effects are monitored at the small sample plot or quadrat 

scale. The next higher scale is the scale of the fire environment. The fire environment is the summation of all 

the combustion environments within an individual fire. 

At this scale, fire behavior monitoring and modeling are 

used to evaluate fire as fuels, heat, and oxygen vary with 

terrain and weather within individual fires. Temporal 

variations of individual fires range from hours to days as 

fires spread across landscape-scale land areas. Their effects are assessed by stand and community-level surveys. 

At the next higher spatial and temporal scale, fire regime 

concepts describe the modal fire type that occurs at stand/

community, landscape, and biome levels across decadal 

to century-long time-scales. At these scales, broad class 

descriptors of impacts on major processes are inferred 

from dendroecological and paleoecological techniques. At 

the fire regime scale, fire characteristics vary between 

successive fires on the same site as the time since, and 

severity of, the last disturbance varies. Site productivity, 

disturbance history, periodic weather anomalies (such as 

drought), and variations in climate cycles all contribute 

to fire’s variability in time and space (Clark 1989; Clark 

and Royall 1995; Kitzberger and others 2007; Morgan 

and others 2001; Power and others 2008; Swetnam and 

Betancourt 1990).

Fire affects societies and natural biophysical processes in numerous ways. As such, it has attracted 

scientists from fields ranging from combustion science to ecology, hydrology, geosciences, anthropology, 

and archaeology. At the combustion science scale, 

the physics and chemistry of fuels and heat transfer 

mechanisms predominate in the study of small scale 

fire phenomenon on the order of seconds to minutes. 

This is the fundamental scale at which fires burn. It is 

at this scale that investigators study stationary fires 

and their impacts on organisms and individual cultural 

resources. At the fire behavior scale, the spatial and 

temporal variability in fuels, weather, and terrain 

dominate in the evaluation of fire potential within and 

between stands and across landscapes on the order 

of hours to weeks. This is the scale at which actively 

spreading individual fires are studied and their effects 

understood on multiple processes (for example plant 

community dynamics, erosion, or hydrologic effects). 

This is also the scale at which most fire management projects occur. At the even higher scale of land 

management planning, managers are concerned with 

broad-brush differences in fuels and fire potential for 

large planning areas on the order of multiple seasons 
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 23

to centuries. At these spatial and temporal scales, 

scientists synthesize patterns of fire occurrence to 

better understand the relationship of fire to numerous ecosystem properties that occur on the order of 

years to centuries. This scale of wildland fire science 

is the fire regime scale (fig. 2-1). Above the fire regime 

scale is the paleo-fire scale. Understanding fire at this 

longer scale is important for understanding climatevegetation-human interactions (Boyd and others 2005; 

Pausas and Keeley 2009; Power and others 2008). There 

is some interaction between scales. Insights from one 

scale inform our understanding of fire phenomenon 

at the next higher scale. For example, conceptually, 

fuel particles aggregate up to make fuel beds and fuel 

beds aggregate up to make fuel complexes necessary 

for predicting behavior of individual fires. 

As each discipline has studied fire phenomena, 

they’ve focused on their particular disciplinary aspect of 

fire and each has developed their own concepts, terms, 

and sets of measures. As one describes fire at finer 

scales, terms and illustrations are based on precisely 

measured biophysical parameters that typically require 

specialized instrumentation (such as, fireline intensity 

and heat transfer mechanisms). As one describes fire 

at successively broader temporal and spatial scales, 

illustrations rely more on broad concepts and general 

trends and tendencies based on outcomes (for example, 

fire periodicity and severity) and less on the physics 

and chemistry of specific fire events (fig. 2-1). The 

use of similar terms developed by specialists who are 

focused on one discipline or scale vs. another leads 

to confusion, which can be particularly difficult for 

professionals from quite dissimilar disciplines such as 

cultural resources. It is, however, important to consider 

the purpose for which an investigation was conducted, 

or a model constructed, when applying concepts and 

models to fire and cultural resource problems.

Fire Behavior and Effects: Concepts 

and Models_____________________

Fire Environment

An essential element of wildland fire is the biophysical fire environment, which is composed of three 

factors: weather, terrain, and fuels. Each of these varies in both time and space (fig. 2-1). Weather is the 

state of the atmosphere surrounding the earth. The 

primary weather factors affecting wildland fire are 

temperature, wind speed, wind direction, humidity, 

precipitation, and sky condition (dark vs. cloudy vs. 

sunny). Terrain is the shape of a particular landform 

on the earth’s surface and is often described by slope, 

aspect, elevation, and drainage properties. Fuels are 

fire’s source of energy released in combustion. Fuels 

are comprised of living and dead biomass from the 

ground, the surface, and the canopy stratum and come 

in many shapes, sizes and varieties (fig. 2-4). 

Fire managers have long recognized that weather 

conditions, terrain steepness, and the amount of available fuel have a dominant effect on a fire’s energy 

release characteristics (Albini 1976; Grishin 1997; 

Pyne and others 1996; Rothermel 1972; Stocks and 

others 1989; Wotton and others 2009). Of more interest in bioconservation and restoration studies is the 

understanding that the energy released by fire has 

the potential to do ecological work, that is, to change 

a host of ecosystem state variables (Dickinson and 

Ryan 2010). Thus, quantification of the energetics 

of fires is desirable in ecological studies (Butler and 

Dickinson 2010; Johnson 1992; Johnson and Miyanishi 

2001; Kremens and others 2010; Massman and others 2010). Likewise the energy released during a fire 

has the potential to directly impact cultural resources 

through the thermal effects on artifacts and the cultural 

landscape. However, fire behavior is highly variable 

in non-uniform fuels, instrumentation is costly, and it 

is often impractical to sample fire behavior except on 

small experimental plots, making it difficult to quantify 

the magnitude of fire treatments in ecological studies 

or restoration projects.

Weather—Weather generally refers to the day-today temperature, relative humidity, wind, cloudiness, 

and precipitation activity. Meteorology is the interdisciplinary scientific study of the atmosphere. It focuses 

on weather processes and forecasting. In contrast, 

climatology is the study of climate, which is scientifically defined as weather conditions averaged over a 

period of time. By convention the climate of an area is 

as the average weather for the preceding 30 years, but 

also includes data on extreme events. Climatology is 

an important consideration in the study of fire regimes 

(fig. 2-1). As the fire environment is concerned with 

the behavior of an individual fire on a specific site, 

fire weather is the meteorological process of concern 

for predicting and understanding fire behavior and 

effects. 

Weather is a set of all atmospheric phenomena occurring at a given time. Weather phenomena occur in 

the lower atmosphere, the troposphere, an air layer 

varying from roughly 7 km (4.3 mi) thick in Polar 

Regions to 20 km (12 mi) thick in the tropics. The 

troposphere contains approximately 75 percent of the 

atmosphere’s mass and 99 percent of its water vapor 

and aerosols. Weather patterns result from differences in atmospheric density caused by differences in 

temperature and moisture content of the atmosphere 

in one region of the globe versus another. Short term 

weather, hours to days, is most critical for determining 

the fire environment. However, longer term weather, 

seasonal patterns, and periodic wet or dry cycles (e.g., 

drought) have major effects on the moisture content 
24 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

Figure 2-4—Fuel elements by stratum (a) (from Sandberg and others 2001) aggregate to make a fuel bed 

(b) (from Barrows 1951).

(a)

(b)
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 25

of large logs and duff (Deeming and others 1977; Van 

Wagner 1987) as well as live fuel moisture. These fuel 

moistures also affect the amount of available fuel and, 

therefore, the fire environment. Those readers interested in more details about fire weather are referred 

to the classic Fire Weather Handbook (Schroeder 

and Buck 1970) or subsequent fire science texts (see 

for example Chandler and others 1983a,b; Flannigan 

and Wotton 2001; Gill and others 1981; Lawson and 

Armitage 2008; Minnich 2006; Omi 2005; Pyne and 

others 1996). 

Weather—specifically temperature, relative humidity, wind, and drought—defines the fraction of the 

total fuel that is available to be consumed in a given 

fire. The short-term weather history is the primary 

determinant of the flammability of the moss and lichen 

layers, loose litter, foliage, and fine twigs (Albini 1976; 

Stocks and others 1989; Wotton and others 2009). The 

moisture content of fine fuels is reflected in the U.S. 

National Fire Danger Rating System (NFDRS) 1- and 

10-hour time-lag fuel moistures (Deeming and others 

1977) and the Canadian Forest Fire Danger Rating 

System (CFFDRS) fine fuel moisture content (FFMC) 

(Stocks and others 1989; Van Wagner 1998; Wotton 

and others 2009). Long-term weather determines 

the moisture content and combustibility of deeper 

organic layers and dead logs. The moisture content 

of these fuels is reflected by the NFDRS 1,000-hour 

time-lag fuel moisture (Deeming and others 1977), 

Canadian Duff Moisture Code and Drought Code 

(Hirsch 1996; Stocks and others 1989; Van Wagner 

1987, 1998; Wotton and others 2009), Keetch-Byram 

Drought Index (Burgan 1988, 1993; Fujioka and others 

2008), or Palmer Drought Index. Wind is perhaps the 

single most important cause of spatial and temporal 

variation within boreal forests. Fires often pulsate 

between intense surface fires and crown fires with 

only modest changes in wind speed (Finney 1998; 

Scott 1998; Scott and Reinhardt 2001; Van Wagner 

1977, 1993). The result is a mosaic of small crown fire 

patches instead of the large expanses that occur in 

sustained wind-driven fires.

Terrain—Terrain refers to the general relief or 

topography of an area. Terrain is the most constant 

factor in the fire environment. It strongly influences 

fuels and weather. The earth has been shaped through 

millennia by wind, water, and tectonic forces creating 

mountains, valleys, plains, and canyons. The resulting 

landforms affect the amount of solar radiation incident 

on a site, precipitation patterns, wind flow patterns, 

and evaporation, all of which affect the frequency duration of flammable periods and a site’s ability to grow 

biomass. Slope steepness and aspect are important 

terrain features affecting the fire environment. Slope is 

measured as the increase or decrease in elevation over 

a fixed horizontal distance and is usually expressed 

as a percent. In the field, slope is typically measured 

over a distance of 30 meters (98 feet) or calculated 

from contour lines on a map. The steepness of a slope 

influences fire behavior through convective preheating fuels thereby increasing a fire’s intensity and rate 

of spread. Because heat rises, fuels on steeper slopes 

above fires dry quickly and ignite faster than fuels on 

relatively flat slopes. The direction a slope is facing is 

called the aspect. Aspect is most commonly expressed 

as one of the four cardinal directions and their bisectors (e.g., N, NE, E, SE, etc.) and occasionally as the 

compass azimuth in degrees. The shape of the terrain 

influences wind speed and direction as solar radiation 

differentially heats the ground on varying aspects 

throughout the diurnal cycle. In addition to slope and 

aspect, elevation affects both the temperature and 

humidity of the air and, therefore, vegetation/fuels 

and fire potential. Slope also interacts with subsurface 

geology resulting in moist microsites (e.g., seeps and 

springs) that affect vegetation/fuels and fire potential. 

Gravity, through its influence on erosion and ground 

water, affects hill-slope hydrology (Neary and others 

2005; Potts and others 1986; Swanson and others 

1988; Wohlgemuth and others 2006) leading to spatial 

differences in soil water content. These microsite differences also directly affect surface and ground fuel 

moisture contents (Hatton and others 1988; Samran 

and others 1995).

The influence of terrain and landform on surface 

energy and water budgets follows physical laws and 

is, therefore, well known (Kunkle 2001; Schroeder 

and Buck 1970). However, due to the sparse coverage of weather stations, a lack of good spatial data 

on weather often leads to considerable uncertainty in 

predicted fire weather. This is particularly true for 

winds (Butler and others 2006). For fuels treatment 

and restoration planning, reasonably robust models are 

available for extrapolating weather and fuel moisture 

from weather stations to the fire environment (e.g., 

FireFamilyPlus http://www.firemodels.org/index.php/

national-systems/firefamilyplus). 

Fuels—Fuel is the burnable organic biomass on a 

site. Fuel is the source of energy that does the work of 

change, whether it is a change in the state of various 

ecosystem components or damage to a cultural resource. 

The most important aspect of fuels is to understand 

that fuels can ignite and burn only when a certain 

combination of conditions is met. These conditions 

are described in this section. Fire influences fuels in 

three ways. First, fire consumes fuel. Second, it creates 

fuel by killing vegetation. Third, it indirectly affects 

fuels by altering the site, thereby influencing post-fire 

vegetation dynamics, the resultant fuel complex, and 

the potential for future fires (Ryan 2002). 

Wildland fuels are all chemically similar. Vegetative biomass fuels are of a class of chemicals called 
26 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

polymers consisting of cellulose (41-53%), hemicellulose 

(15-20%), and lignin (16-33%), with lesser amounts of 

secondary plant metabolites (for example fats, oils, 

waxes, resin), and minerals (calcium, potassium, 

magnesium, silica) (DeBano and others 1998; Grishin 

1997; Pyne and others 1996; Ward 2001). Wildland 

fuels are described by their physical and chemical 

properties when modeling fire danger or potential fire 

behavior in the United States (Albini 1976; Andrews 

2005; Deeming and others 1977; Rothermel 1972), but 

in Canada they are described by a vegetation-based 

physiognomic nomenclature (for example, dominant 

species composition and stand structure) (Hirsch 1996; 

Stocks and others 1989; Wotton and others 2009). 

Likewise, field ecology studies primarily rely on vegetative physiognomic characteristics to characterize 

fuels and fire potential. 

At the finest scale, fuels are characterized by their 

physical and chemical properties as they affect combustion. More specifically, fuels are described by their 

particle size and chemical composition (for example, 

heat and moisture contents). For modeling purposes in 

the United States and elsewhere where the Rothermel 

(1972) model and its variants are used, the commonly 

recognized particle sizes are broken down based on the 

time-lag equilibrium moisture concept (Schroeder and 

Buck 1970) (table 2-2). Biomass fuels are hygroscopic, 

meaning that they absorb or lose moisture in response 

to changes in atmospheric moisture, which is generally 

defined in terms of the relative humidity (Deeming and 

others 1977; Nelson 2001; Schroeder and Buck 1970). 

As humidity rises or falls, so does fuel moisture. One 

time-lag is the time it takes for a fuel element to change 

approximately 63 percent from its initial moisture content to its new equilibrium following an atmospheric 

humidity change. The concept of equilibrium moisture 

content is valid for dead fuels over the range of about 

2 percent up to the fiber saturation point of 30 to 35 

percent, depending on the species characteristics and 

the degree of rottenness. Above this point, free water 

begins to form in intra- and inter-cellular spaces of the 

fuel. It takes approximately five time-lags for a fuel 

particle to come into equilibrium with the atmosphere. 

The atmosphere is not often stable for five time-lags so 

fuel moisture is almost constantly changing. Relative 

humidity changes throughout the day as the temperature rises and falls through its diurnal cycle. Relative 

humidity also changes when weather fronts bring in a 

new air mass to a site of interest. However, the timelag concept is useful not only because it describes the 

direction of moisture change (drying or wetting) but 

also how fast fuels respond to weather changes. It is 

also related to how fast particles ignite and burn in 

wildland fires. For fire modeling purposes, the size class 

is expressed as a function of the surface-area-to-volume 

ratio (SAV, often represented by the Greek σ in U.S 

fire modeling literature). Commonly, downed woody 

debris in the 1-, 10-, and 100-hour time-lag classes (i.e. 

woody fuels less than 7.6 cm diameter (< 3.0 in.)) are 

referred to as fine woody debris (FWD) whereas logs 

greater than 7.6 cm diameter (> 3.0 in.) are referred 

to as coarse woody debris (CWD) (Sikkink and others 

2009). CWD typically includes all logs both sound and 

rotten. The time-lag concept is a useful one for describing fuel properties but cannot be interpreted rigidly. 

Fine-fresh needles from conifer and schlerophoulos 

(i.e., waxy evergreen) broadleaved species have longer 

time-lag responses than weathered needles and nonschleropholous species (e.g., pine needles) (Anderson 

and others 1978). Lags larger than 20 cm (~8 in.) and 

rotten logs have longer time-lags than 1,000 hours 

(Deeming and others 1977). 

Table 2-2—Fuel moisture time lag, size class and description (Schroeder and Buck 1970). These size classes are commonly 

used in fire danger rating (Deeming and others 1978), fire behavior prediction (Rothermel 1972, Albini 1976, Andrews 

2008), and fuel consumption calculations (Reinhardt and others 2005, Ottmar and others 2007). 

 Size class,

 area/volume (range), Common surface

Time lag cm (in) m–1 (ft–1) Fuel description

1 hour <0.64 cm (<0.25 in) 630 to 10,800 m–1 lichens, mosses, weathered pine needles, 

(192 to 3300 ft–1) loose leaf litter, grass straw

10 hour 0.64 - <2.54 cm (0.25 - <1.0 in) 157 to 629 m–1 fresh pine needles, twigs

(48 to 192 ft–1)

100 hour 2.54 - 7.62 cm (1.0 - <3.0 in) 52 to 156 m–1 branch wood

(16 to 48 ft–1)

1,000 hour 7.62 - 22.86 cm (3.0 - 9.0 in) 17 to 51 m–1 sound logs

(5.3 to 16 ft–1)
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 27

Finely divided (small) fuel particles have high SAVs, 

wet and dry quickly, and ignite and burn out quickly. 

The larger the SAV, the faster particles ignite and 

burn (table 2-2). Anderson (1969) determined that 

the duration of flaming was a function of particle 

diameter. Fuel pieces burn at an approximate rate of 

3.15 minutes per centimeter of diameter (8 minutes 

per inch). Similarly, Harmathy (1972, 1976) found 

that the duration of smoldering was approximately 

as long as that of flaming. Thus the total duration of 

fuel burnout, flaming plus smoldering, is around 6.3 

minutes per centimeter (15.75 minutes per inch) of 

fuel diameter consumed (Peterson and Ryan 1986). 

Thus, for example, if woody fuels up to 3 cm (1.2 in) 

in diameter were consumed on an area then a rough 

estimate of the duration of heating would be about 19 

minutes. As available fuels in wildland fires burn at 

a relatively fixed rate, increasing the rate of spread 

also increases the depth of the flame zone in addition 

to increasing the length of the flames (fig. 2-2). This 

translates directly into higher fireline intensity, greater 

radiative heat flux, and an increased potential for 

damage to exposed cultural resources (sidebar 2-1).

Fuel particle characteristics vary continuously in 

space and time. In all but the most homogeneous of 

fuel-beds (e.g., productive grasslands), the mass and 

size distribution of fuels varies across an area with 

varying height as the physiognomy of the vegetation changes. Fuel particles change moisture content 

as a function of their size, relative humidity, and 

temperature (Sandberg and others 2001; Schroeder 

and Buck 1970; Van Wagtendonk 2006) (table 2-3) 

(fig. 2-4a). That variation is large relative to the 

spatial and temporal scales over which fires burn 

in natural communities. Thus, in practice, fuels are 

not described on the basis of individual fuel particle 

attributes, rather they are described in aggregate at 

the next higher scale as an agglomeration of several 

types of fuel (fig. 2-4b), referred to as a fuel complex 

or a fuel bed. In the Rothermel model and its variants 

(Andrews 2005; Deeming and others 1977; Finney 1998; 

Rothermel 1972; Scott 1998), fuel beds are described in 

the form of stylized fuel models (Albini 1976; Anderson 

1982; Scott and Burgan 2005) that describe the mass 

per unit area, physical distribution (weighted particle 

size, fuel bed depth, bulk density), and chemistry 

(heat, moisture, and mineral content) of the surface 

fuels. Common U.S. terminology is the “Anderson-13” 

(Anderson 1982) and the “Scott and Burgan-40” (Scott 

and Burgan 2005). In contrast, the Canadian Forest 

Fire Behavior Prediction System (FBP) organizes fuel 

types into 16 discrete fuel types where the user selects 

the fuel type that best fits a particular situation. Fuel 

types in the FBP system are described qualitatively, 

rather than quantitatively (Forestry Canada 1992; 

Wotton and others 2009).

Fuel compactness refers to how tightly packed fuel 

particles are within the fuel bed. Compactness is described as a weight of fuel per unit volume of the fuel 

bed. It is estimated by measuring depth and loading of 

fuel by a standard methodology. The most commonly 

used technique in the United States is the planar intersect (Brown 1974; Brown and others 1982). Increasing 

density of fuels like grasses, woody debris, shrubs and 

forbs increases the amount of available fuels. Compactness influences drying rate and heat transfer during a 

fire. The more compact the fuels, the slower the drying 

rate. Maximum combustion occurs when particles are 

close enough together to effectively transmit heat by 

radiation and convection but far enough apart to not 

restrict oxygen flow to burning fuels. 

It is important to understand that the emphasis 

for focusing on surface fuels is a reflection of the 

historic need to predict fire behavior for fire control 

purposes. Operational fire behavior prediction systems 

in the United States are based on the semi-empirical 

Rothermel (1972) mathematical model and in Canada 

on empirical field data (Stocks and others 1989; Hirsch 

1996). These were developed to predict fire potential for 

strategic and tactical fire planning and management, 

not for predicting fire effects. One problem with using 

current fire behavior prediction systems in ecological 

studies is that they do not predict all of the combustion and, therefore, all of the energy released over the 

duration of the fire (c.f. Johnson and Miyanishi 2001; 

Ryan 2002). In particular they are insufficient for understanding below-ground effects. Thus, other fuel bed 

descriptors are common in the fire science and ecology 

literature (for example, see Barrows 1951; DeBano 

and others 1998; Ottmar and others 2007; Pyne and 

others 1996; Sandberg and others 2001, 2007). These 

fuel bed components are described on the basis of the 

physiognomic characteristics (tree, shrub, grass, forb, 

moss, etc.) (figs. 2-4a,b). Fuels are described typically on the basis of the stratum in which they occur 

(ground, surface, canopy) (table 2-3), how the type of 

fuel burns, (the dominant combustion characteristic 

such as smoldering vs. flaming), and potential duration of burnout during severe fire weather (Ottmar 

and others 2007; Sandberg and others 2001, 2002).

Conventional nomenclature defines fuels based on 

whether they are alive or dead, their availability for 

burning, their physical size, and chemical properties. 

Conceptually, total biomass is the sum of all plant 

material on the site and includes both above-ground 

and below-ground carbon. Historically, little organic 

mass within the mineral soil burns; therefore, the fire 

literature typically ignores the below-ground fraction. 

However, buried soil wood (e.g., rotten roots) may be 

of concern in some archaeological contexts (see chapter 7). Total aboveground biomass is the site’s total 

dry mass of living and dead plant tissue found above 
28 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

Table 2.3—Fuel bed strata and categories, and their physiognomic and gradient variables (from 

Ottmar and others 2007). 

Fuelbed strata Fuelbed categories Physiognomic variables Gradient variables

Canopy Tree

Snag

Ladder fuels

Canopy structure

Crown type

Snag class

Vegetation type

Canopy height

Height to live crown

Percentage cover

Diameter

Height

Snags per acre

Significance

Shrub Shrub

Needle drape

Foliage type

Growth habit

Accelerant potential

Percentage cover

Height

Percentage live vegetation

Significance

Low vegetation Grass/sedge

Forb

Leaf blade thickness

Growth habit

Percentage cover

Height

Percentage live vegetation

Percentage cover

Height

Woody fuel Sound wood

Rotten wood

Stumps

Woody 

accumulations

Size class

Size class

Decay class

Piles, windrows or 

jackpots

Clean or dirty

Loading (tons/acre)

Fuelbed depth

Loading (tons/acre)

Stems/acre

Diameter

Height

Width

Length

Number/acre

Moss/lichen/litter Moss

Lichen

Litter

Moss type

Litter type

Litter arrangement

Percentage cover

Depth

Percentage cover

Depth

Percentage cover

Depth

Ground Fuel Duff

Basal accumulation

Character

Accumulation type, e.g. 

litter, bark slough

Depth

Percentage rotten wood

Depth

Trees per acre affected

the mineral soil. Above-ground biomass is further 

divided based on whether it is alive or dead. Live and 

dead fuel may be broken down into total and available fuel, as illustrated in the Venn diagram (fig. 2-5). 

Total fuel is the total amount of biomass capable of 

burning in a given area under a worst-case scenario. 

Available fuel is that biomass that actually burns in a 

specific fire. Total above ground biomass (≥ total fuel 

≥ available fuel) is the total of all carbon stored on 

the site above the mineral soil including such things 

as living tree boles that are not consumed by surface 

or crown fires. In figure 2-5, the degree to which the 

Venn areas represented by the biomass classes are 

similar or different varies with the biome ranging 

from a tall grass prairie, where available fuel, total 

fuel, and above ground biomass are essentially equal 

under drought conditions, to a rain forest where an 

initial fire leaves substantial unburned biomass in the 

stems and canopy. The magnitude of these inequalities 

varies with the physiognomic structure of the biome 

and the prevailing moisture and wind at the time of 

the fire. Differences are small in grasslands and large 

in long undisturbed forests. The total amount of fuel 

available on a site depends on the stand structure and 

plant composition as well as the site’s disturbance history (Graham and others 2004; Peterson and others 

2005). “Structure” includes the quantity, distribution, 

and horizontal and vertical arrangement of live and 

dead trees, understory vegetation, woody debris, litter, and humus (Artsybashev 1983; Brown and Bevins 

1986; Johnson 1992; Ryan 2002).
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 29

Fuel moisture is the single most important factor 

determining how much of the total fuel is available 

for combustion (Albini and others 1995; Nelson 2001). 

Moisture content is expressed as a percentage of water 

to the dry weight of fuel.

{[(wet – dry)/ dry] x 100} = mc% [1]

The moisture content of fine fuels is critical because 

they are the primary carriers of fire. Increasing moisture content reduces the likelihood that an ignition will 

lead to a propagating fire, and reduces the available 

fuel fraction. Within the range of moistures where fires 

can spread, increasing moisture content increases the 

duration of burning, and possibly leads to more emissive flames due to less efficient burning (Thomas 1970). 

Once conditions for fire spread are met, the moisture 

content of longer time-lag fuels becomes important to 

predicting below-ground fire effects. Wind increases 

the burning rate and decreases the duration of burnout 

(Cheney 1981; Miyanishi 2001).

The primary factor distinguishing living fuels versus dead fuels is their moisture content. Dead woody 

fuels (twigs, branches, logs) rarely exceed 30 to 35 

percent moisture, the fiber saturation point on a dry 

mass basis, but may be as low as 2 or 3 percent during 

extended dry spells. In contrast, live fuels may have 

moisture contents approaching 300 percent early in 

the growing season, and rarely drop below 80 percent 

prior to senescence. In contrast to woody fuels, dead 

herbaceous fuels are typically less dense, have more 

pore space, and are thus capable of holding more free 

moisture at saturation. However, they are invariably 

much dryer than when they were alive. Fuels in an 

advanced state of decomposition, such as rotten logs 

and organic soil horizons, can hold much more moisture 

(up to 250 percent moisture content and occasionally 

higher). Rotten fuels can also ignite and burn at much 

higher moisture contents, approaching 200 percent under ideal burning conditions. The transition from solid 

fuel to rotten is a gradual process, often characterized 

by decay classes (Marcot and others 2004). Often, only 

a portion of the total above-ground biomass is capable 

of burning. In forests, for example, solid tree boles are 

too widely spaced to mutually reinforce each other’s 

combustion. Even in the most destructive fires the 

trunks and most branches on standing live trees are 

not consumed. In contrast, in grasslands, virtually all 

of the above-ground biomass is available fuel under 

severe burning conditions. 

The fire environment concept can be extended from 

its suppression-derived simplicity to a more ecological 

construct (fig. 2-6a). Fire behavior varies in time and 

space with changes in the terrain, weather, and vegetative structure and whether or not the area experiences 

a head fire, flank fire, or backing fire. As the fire behavior changes so do the effects (fig. 2-6b) (from Ryan 

2002).The extension of the fire environment concept to 

ecological studies requires that fuels be considered in 

the broader context of the structure of biomass on the 

site. Structure defines the total amount of biomass 

that can be burned and, therefore, the total energy 

that can be released from all combustion phases in a 

fire. The size distribution of the structural components 

defines the rate at which energy will be released during 

favorable burning conditions. The rates at which fuels 

wet, dry (Nelson 2001), and burn (Anderson 1969) are 

functions of particle surface-area. These rates can be 

approximated from diameter for most dead fuels above 

the ground fuel stratum (i.e., above the duff layer) 

(table 2-2). 

Given that the various components of a fuel bed 

have rather unique burning characteristics, fires burn 

throughout a continuum of energy release rates and 

durations depending on the complexity of fuel elements 

present (appendix) (Artsybashev 1983; Rothermel 

1991; Rowe 1983; Van Wagner 1983). 

Ground fuel includes organic matter below the loose 

surface litter including deep duff (fermentation and 

humus soil horizons), tree roots, decomposing buried 

logs, duff mounds around tree bases, and rodent middins (fig. 2-4). Peat and organic muck soils are also 

ground fuels. Because of the lack of aeration, ground 

Figure 2-5—Venn diagram schematic representation of classes 

of biomass and their potential availability for combustion in a 

wildland fire. The degree to which live vs. dead fuel (black line) 

dominates a fuel complex varies by the biome, site disturbance 

history, seasonal phenology, and climatic cycles (e.g., drought 

vs. wet).
30 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

fires burn these densely compacted organic soil horizons 

primarily by smoldering combustion (fig. 2-7). Such 

fires typically burn for hours to weeks, exhibit forward 

rates of spread in the range of a few decimeters to a few 

meters (feet to yards) per day, and exhibit temperatures 

at a point in excess of 300 °C (572 °F) for several hours 

(Agee 1993; Frandsen and Ryan 1986; Grishin and 

others 2009; Hartford and Frandsen 1992; Ryan and 

Frandsen 1991) (e.g., fig. 2-8). Burning rates and intensities of organic soils vary somewhat with moisture 

content and availability of air. Frandsen (1991a) found 

the rate of spread in laboratory analysis of duff fuels 

to be on the order of 3 cm (1.2 in) per hour. The conditions necessary for ground fires are organic soil depth 

greater than about 4 to 6 centimeters (1.6 to 2.4 in.) 

and extended drying (Hawkes 1993; Miyanishi 2001; 

Miyanishi and Johnson 2002; Palmer 1957; Reinhardt 

and others 1997). Duff thinner than this can actually 

buffer mineral soil (Bradstock and Auld 1995; Valette 

and others 1994) and artifacts from significant heating associated with the passage of the flaming front. 

This is because the energy lost from the duff surface 

exceeds that produced by burning duff and the fire self 

extinguishes after the passage of the flaming front.

The occurrence of ground fires is strongly dependent 

on the moisture content of the organic horizon (Brown 

and others 1985; Frandsen 1987, 1997; Grishin and 

others 2009; Hawkes 1993; Hungerford and others 

1995; Lawson and others 1997a,b; Miyanishi 2001; 

Miyanishi and Johnson 2002; Reardon and others 

2007, 2009; Rein 2009; Reinhardt and others 1991; 

Sandberg 1980; Van Wagner 1972). In particular, peat 

and organic muck soils fuels, which require extended 

drought or disruption of ground water flow, reach moisture contents low enough to burn (Grishin and others 

2009; Hungerford and others 1995; Reardon and others 

(a)

(b)

Figure 2-6—Fire environment, behavior, and effects (from Ryan 2002).
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 31

Figure 2-7—Smoldering combustion in ground fuels (a) creeping surface fire igniting duff mound beneath old growth western larch, 

Larix occidentalis in the 2005 Girard Grove prescribed burn, Seely Lake Ranger District, Lolo National Forest, Montana; (b) burnout 

of smoldering duff mound in (a); (c) burnout of organic muck soil on the 1994 Fish Day wildfire, Croatan National Forest, North 

Carolina; and (d) smoldering duff from squirrel midden in jack pine forest, Northwest Territories, Canada. , 

(a) (c)

(b) (d)

Figure 2-8—Example of temperatures 

associated with smoldering ground fire in 

western larch Larix occidentalis duff, Lolo 

National Forest, Montana. Duff depth = 

6.5 cm (2.6 in.), moisture content = 18.3% 

(from Hartford and Frandsen 1992).
32 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

2007, 2009; Rein 2009; Rein and others 2008). Ground 

fuels are good insulators and protect deeper organic 

strata and the mineral soil from heating during the 

passage of surface and crown fires (fig. 2-9). However, 

when ground fuels are dry enough to burn, they are 

ignited by the passage of the flaming front. Surface 

fire penetrates the litter and fermentation layer where 

pine cones, branches, or rotten wood create a localized 

hot spot. Once ignition is established in the humus 

or peat soil, the fire propagates laterally evaporating 

moisture and raising dry organic soil up to combustion 

temperatures (endothermic phase) where smoldering 

combustion occurs (exothermic phase.) (Grishin and 

others 2009; Hungerford and others 1991, 1995; Rein 

2009; Rein and others 2008). Ground fuels have a slow 

burning rate and burn independently from surface 

and crown fires, so most ground fuels are consumed 

after the flaming front has passed, often some hours 

after passage of the flaming front (Artsybashev 1983; 

Hungerford and others 1995; Rowe 1983; Van Wagner 

1983). An exception occurs when surface fires are burning in heavy loadings of coarse woody debris (CWD), 

which is a legacy from previous disturbances (e.g., 

logging slash, insect and disease epidemics, or storm 

damage). Even in such situations, CWD rarely covers 

more than 10 percent of the surface area of the forest 

floor, which is small in comparison to that covered by 

organic soil horizons such as duff (Albini 1976; Albini 

and Reinhardt 1995, 1997; Peterson and Ryan 1986). 

Thus burnout of ground fuels is the primary source of 

deep heating in mineral soils. When duff is too wet to 

burn, heating from above is negligible except under 

heavy concentrations of burning CWD. 

Surface fuels are those fuels that support surface 

flaming: recently fallen, partially decomposed loose litter (dead leaves and conifer needles), mosses, lichens, 

grasses, forbs, low shrubs, arboreal regeneration, fine 

woody debris (FWD), CWD, and stumps. The surface 

fuel stratum is defined as those being above the ground 

fuels (i.e., organic soil horizons) and below the canopy 

stratum, and is normally <2.0 m, (~6 ft)) (fig. 2-4b). 

The intensity of a surface fire depends on the mass and 

type of total fuel and prevailing moisture, wind, and 

slope conditions on the site (i.e., the fire environment). 

Figure 2-9—Schematic of duff burnout (adapted from Hungerford and others 1991, 1995). 
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 33

As the vegetative physiognomy of forests, woodlands, 

shrublands, grasslands, and wetlands vary across the 

landscape surface, fires are likewise highly variable. 

Surface fires in light flashy fuels, such as grasslands, 

have a broad range of intensities often producing surface temperatures in excess of 300 °C (572 °F), but because of the high surface-area-to-volume ratio of grass 

fuels and the relatively low fuel bed compactness burn 

durations last only for 1 to 2 minutes (fig. 2-10). Under 

marginal burning conditions, surface fires creep along 

the ground at rates of decimeters (~1/3 foot) per hour 

with flames less than 5 decimeters (<2 feet) (appendix). 

As fuel, weather, and terrain conditions become more 

favorable for burning, surface fires become progressively more active with spread rates ranging from tens 

of meters to kilometers (yards to miles) per day. The 

duration of forest surface fires is on the order of 1 to 

a few minutes (Butler and others 2004; Cruz and others 2006a,b; Despain and others 1996; Frandsen and 

Ryan 1986; Hartford and Frandsen 1992; Vasander 

and Lindholm 1985) except where extended residual 

secondary flaming (fig. 2-2a) occurs beneath logs or in 

concentrations of CWD where flaming combustion may 

last a few hours resulting in substantial soil heating 

Figure 2-10—Surface fire in grasslands (a) backing fire in short-grass prairie (photo M. Lata); (b) strip head fires in short-grass 

prairie (note range of flame lengths, fire intensities from the back, flank, and head of the fires) (photo M. Lata); (c) intense head-fire 

in heavy grass fuels; and (d) temperatures associated with surface fire a in grass fuel bed (from Ryan 2002).

(a)

(b)

(c)

(d)
34 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

(Hartford and Frandsen 1992; Monsanto and Agee 

2008; Odion and Davis 2000; Werts and Jahren 2007). 

If canopy fuels are plentiful and sufficiently dry, surface 

fires begin to transition into crown fires (Scott and 

Reinhardt 2001; Van Wagner 1977). Given that fine 

surface fuels burnout quickly by flaming combustion, 

it follows from the fireline intensity equation (eqn. 2, 

discussed in the Fire Intensity section), that increasing the available fuel loading (mass per unit area) will 

increase the intensity of the fire as reflected both in the 

size of the flames and the temperatures experienced 

at the soil surface (Stinson and Wright 1969; Wright 

and others 1976) (fig. 2-11). The considerable variation in surface temperatures reported from burning 

fine surface fuels (see Wright and Bailey 1982, ch. 2 

for review) reflects the complexity of free-burning fires 

where local variations in fuel load and wind result in 

flames of varying emissivity and, therefore, potential 

damage to cultural resources.

Aerial or crown fuels include live and dead burnable biomass in the forest and woodland canopy stratum above the surface fuels (>2 m, ~ 6 ft.) (fig. 2-4b): 

branches and foliage of trees and tall shrubs, snags, 

epiphytes, hanging mosses and lichens (figs. 2-12a,b), 

(table 2-2). While surface fires are the dominant type 

of wildland fire, ground and crown fires commonly occur. The prediction of crown fires is an active area of 

fire research (see Cruz and Alexander, 2010, for recent 

review). Critical gaps in our understanding include 

(1) how moisture content affects the fraction of the 

crown biomass burned during a crown fire, (2) how to 

define crown volume, (3) how to define the distribution of biomass within that volume, and (4) how to 

define the continuity between surface fuels and canopy 

fuels. The height, shape, and density of crowns vary 

from tree to tree; trees are not uniformly distributed 

in natural stands. Surface fuels are of an irregular 

height; likewise the base of the crown (i.e., height of 

lower branches) varies from tree to tree, thus, the gap 

between surface and canopy fuels is often difficult to 

define. The following paragraphs are intended to inform 

cultural resource specialists about these important 

concepts.

Figure 2-11—Variation in temperature history (maximum temperatures and 

durations) associated with increasing amounts of available fuel in a Texas 

grassland. Environmental conditions during the experimental burns were 

air temperatures, which varied from 21 °C to 27 °C (70 °F to 80 °F); relative humidity, which ranged from 20 to 40 percent; and wind speed, which 

varied from 13 to 24 km/hr (8 to 15 mph) (From Wright and others 1976).
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 35

Figure 2-12—Crown fire in coniferous forest (a) example of temperatures associated with a crown fire in jack pine (Pinus 

banksiana) in the Northwest Territories, Canada. Such fires typically produce temperatures in excess of 1000 °C (1832 °F) 

for about 1 minute (from Ryan 2002); (b) photograph of crown fire associated with (a).

(a)

(b)
36 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

Canopy fuels are predominantly fine fuels and 

are quickly consumed. Thus crown fires exhibit the 

maximum energy release rate but are typically of 

short duration, 30 to 80 seconds (fig. 2-12b). On rare 

occasions, under specialized conditions, crown fires 

can occur without the support of a surface fire. Such 

fires are referred to as independent crown fires

(Van Wagner 1977). More commonly, crown fires are 

tightly coupled with the surface fire in a continuous 

three-dimensional involvement of surface and crown 

fuels advancing as a unified flaming front referred to 

as an active crown fire. Commonly, individual trees 

and clumps of trees experience torching in association 

with the passing of a surface fire. This is referred to 

as a passive crown fire (Van Wagner 1977). 

As a fire burns across the landscape, it encounters 

different communities with varying site productivity 

and differing disturbance histories that result in varying stand structures and flammability (Graham and 

others 2004; Peterson and others 2005) (fig. 2-13). For 

example, stands with a high open crown (canopy) and 

short understory fuels have poor vertical fuel continuity. Such stands will frequently carry a surface fire due 

to increased sunlight and wind at the surface (Albini 

1976; Kunkel 2001; Stocks and others 1989; Wotton 

and others 2009) but have a low crown fire potential 

because of the large gap between surface aerial fuels 

(Artsybashev 1983; Grishin 1997; Scott 1998; Scott and 

Reinhardt 2001; Van Wagner 1977, 1993). In contrast, 

forest stands with a dense understory of shrubs or 

immature trees have relatively high vertical fuel continuity. Such stands can support intense surface fires 

leading to crowning and torching of the tree canopy 

stratum. If the canopy stratum is a patchy over-story, 

then the stand has poor horizontal fuel continuity in 

the canopy layer. Such stands readily support passive 

crowning (torching) and spotting under low relative 

humidity, especially when surface fuels are in an 

Figure 2-13—Fuel continuity. Increasing stand density on a site as a function of natural succession leading to an increase in 

horizontal and vertical fuel continuity. Illustrated are 170 trees per acre (420 trees per hectare) in 1900 (a), 409 trees per acre 

(1010 trees per hectare) in 2000 (b), 547 trees per acre (1351 trees per hectare) in 2050 (c), and horizontal fuel continuity from an 

overhead view of frames a-c (d). Crown cover is expected to increases to 80 percent by 2050 leading to a significant increase in 

crown fire potential (from Smith and others 2000). Simulations were done using FFE-FVS (Crookston and others 2000, i.e., prior 

to the 2002 Hayman Fire) with data from Cheesman Reservoir, Pike National Forest, Colorado.

(a) (c)

(b) (d)
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 37

advanced state of curing. Stands with high vertical 

and horizontal fuel continuity are less likely to burn 

because of the typically moister microenvironment, 

but such stands have the highest crown fire potential 

when fires burn under drought, low relative humidity, or high wind conditions (Alexander 1998; Cruz 

and Alexander 2010; Finney 1998, 1999; Scott 1998; 

Scott and Reinhardt 2001; Van Wagner 1977, 1993). 

The availability of fuels varies not only in space, but 

also in time with changes in weather (principally relative humidity, temperature, and drought) (Bessie and 

Johnson 1995; Flannigan and Wotton 2001; Johnson 

1992; Schroeder and Buck 1970). Spatial variation in 

the fire environment leads to varying fire severities 

and burn mosaics as fire spreads across the landscape.

Ignition: How Fuel is Ignited Affects Fire Behavior and Effects—Taken collectively, the vegetation structure, weather, and terrain constitute the 

biophysical fire environment (DeBano and others 1998; 

Pyne and others 1996) (fig. 2-6a), which describes 

the potential fire behavior and effects. Actual fire 

behavior varies with how the specific area is burned. 

Independent of the biophysical environment in which 

the fire is burning, major differences in fire behavior 

are associated with the location on the fire’s perimeter, that is, whether an area is burned by a heading, 

flanking, or backing fire (Catchpole and others 1982, 

1992; Cheney and Sullivan 2008; Ryan 2002) (figs. 2-3, 

2-6b). The heading portion of the fire burns with the 

wind or upslope. The backing fire burns into the wind 

or down slope. The flanking fire burns perpendicular to 

the wind’s or slope’s axis. The direction of fire spread 

is a function of the slope and wind vectors, with the 

latter dominating except at low wind speeds (Albini 

1976; Finney 1998; Rothermel 1972). The intensity 

of both heading and backing fires are dependent on 

the strength of the wind and steepness of a slope. 

Commonly, fireline intensity in a backing fire is on 

the order of 0.1 to 0.2 times that of a heading fire in a 

given biophysical environment, while flanking fires are 

about 0.4 to 0.6 times the head-fire intensity (Catchpole 

and others 1992). Variations in the fire environment 

and location on the fire perimeter lead to significant 

variations in the fire behavior and effects (fig. 2-6b). 

For example, it is common to see fires spread across 

a slope running with the wind when the vegetation 

structure is not sufficient and continuous enough for 

the fire to carry up the slope. Thus the ignition pattern 

that is used in a restoration burn can also be expected 

to affect the pattern of fire behavior and the resulting 

effects.

In summary, fires burn in varying combinations of 

ground, surface, and crown depending on the local 

conditions at the specific time a fire passes a point. 

Changes in surface and ground fire behavior occur in 

response to subtle changes in the microenvironment, 

stand structure, and weather leading to a mosaic 

of fire treatments at multiple scales in the ground, 

surface and, canopy strata. Crown fires are of high 

intensity (energy release rate) and of short duration. 

Ground fires are of low intensity and long duration. 

Surface fires are intermediate to crown and ground 

fires and cover a wide range of intensities and duration 

depending on the amount of available fuel loading and 

its particle size distribution. Heavy concentrations of 

coarse woody debris can result in long duration high 

intensity heating of the soil. However, such concentrations typically cover only a small proportion of the 

surface of the ground (Albini 1976; Brown and others 

2003; Peterson and Ryan 1986). In most forests, either 

duff or peat covers a much greater proportion of the 

surface than FWD and CWD combined. The burnout of 

these organic soil horizons by smoldering combustion 

is the primary source of mineral soil heating. During 

crown and surface fires the majority of heat released 

by combustion is transferred to the atmosphere and 

surrounding exposed surfaces by radiation and convection. During ground fires, much of the heat that 

is released is transferred into the soil by conduction. 

When crown fires or intense surface fires occur over 

dry organic soil horizons these layers can continue to 

burn for several hours after the passage of the flaming front leading to high heat release both above and 

below ground (fig. 2-14). The practical significance of 

ground, surface, and canopy fires to cultural resource 

management will be discussed in subsequent sections.

Fire Intensity, Depth of Burn, and 

Fire Severity____________________

Fire intensity and fire severity are terms that are 

often used in fire literature; however, there is considerable confusion about their use (see Keeley 2009 

for discussion). Part of the confusion in their use 

stems from the fact that the terms may be used both 

informally, as a normal matter of discourse, or they 

may be used formally as terms defined by the user. 

Definitions vary somewhat depending on the scale of 

the fire being investigated.

Fire Intensity

Fire intensity is used by researchers in the United 

States and Canada to describe the amount of energy 

released in a given area during the passage of a fire 

front (Alexander 1982; DeBano and others 1998; 

Kaufmann and others 2007; Pyne and others 1996; 

Rothermel and Deeming 1980; Van Wagtendonk 2006; 

Wotton and others 2009). This measurement relates the 

length and depth of a fire front to the amount of heat 

energy being released (Byram 1959) (Equation 2, and 

fig. 2-6). In turn, these values are used to understand 
38 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

fire potential and level of fire suppression difficulty 

(Alexander and Lanoville 1989; Andrews and others 

2011). Byram’s (1959) definition of fireline intensity 

has become a standard quantifiable measure of intensity (Agee 1993; Alexander 1982; DeBano and others 

1998; Johnson 1992; Rothermel and Deeming 1980; 

Van Wagner 1983; Van Wagtendonk 2006). Fireline 

intensity is the product of the fuel value (i.e., the fuel’s 

heat content, the mass of fuel consumed, and the rate of 

spread (m/s)) (Byram 1959). It is a measure of the rate 

of energy release per unit width of the flaming front 

of the spreading fire. It does not address the residual 

secondary flaming behind the front nor subsequent 

smoldering combustion (fig. 2-2a) (Alexander 1982; 

Albini and Reinhardt 1995, 1997; Johnson and Miyanishi 2001; Rothermel and Deeming 1980). Fireline 

intensity can be written as a simple equation:

I = HWR [2]

where

I is Byram’s (1959) fireline intensity (kW/m/sec or 

BTU/ft/sec), 

H is the heat content of the fuel (kW/kg or BTU/lb 

or of fuel),

W is the weight of available fuel burned in the active flaming (spreading) fire front (kW/kg of fuel 

or BTU/lb), and 

R is the forward rate of spread (m/sec or ft/sec).

Byram’s fireline intensity is usually calculated from 

empirical observations of the rate of spread (R), weight 

of fuel consumed (W) and the heat content (H), which 

is normally taken from typical published approximate 

values, or it is predicted by fire behavior models (Albini 

1976; Alexander 1982; Rothermel 1972; Rothermel 

and Deeming 1980). The challenge in managing fire 

is to determine how much, and what type of fuel will 

burn, and by what type of combustion. In Byram’s 

(1959) equation (eqn. 2), the value of W is the weight 

of fuel consumed in the active flaming phase of the 

fire. W approaches the value for available fuel in 

fires where only fine dead fuels are consumed (such 

as the grass fire mentioned above) (fig. 2-11), or when 

coarser fuels are too sparse or wet to be ignited by the 

passing flame front. When these conditions are not 

satisfied, a portion of the available fuel is consumed 

in the secondary flaming and smoldering combustion 

phase. The burnout of these residual fuels does not 

contribute to the forward propagation of the fire (R

in equation 2), but is often important for predicting 

fire effects related to soil heating (Busse and others 2005; Hartford and Frandsen 1992; Hungerford 

and others 1991; Monsanto and Agee 2008; Odion 

and Davis 2000). Figure 2-15 illustrates the total consumption of 1-, 10-, and 100-hour time-lag fuels as a 

function of fuel moisture content. In practice, because 

all combustion phases occur simultaneously (Urbanski 

and others 2009), it can be difficult to clearly identify 

which portion of the available fuel is burned in the 

Figure 2-14—Temperatures associated with a high intensity, long duration 

fire in a whitebark pine (Pinus albicaulis) stand, Clearwater National Forest, 

Idaho. Passive crowning (torching) was followed by sustained flaming in a 

cluster of logs. 
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 39

Figure 2-15—Fuel consumption and a function of the fuel’s 

fractional fuel moisture content (Mf

) and the fractional moisture content beyond which fuels typically no longer sustain 

combustion (Mx) except at very high packing ratios. The ratio 

mf

/mx for 1-, 10-, and 100-hour fuels is 0.73, 0.51, and 0.38, 

respectively (from Peterson and Ryan 1985).

active flaming vs. residual secondary flaming and 

smoldering, but fuel consumption (Albini and Reinhardt 1995, 1997; Albini and others 1995) and smoke 

production (Bytnerowicz and others 2008; Sandberg 

and others 2002; Urbanski and others 2009) programs 

can be used as a guide. Alternatively some field studies measure flame length (Finney and Martin 1992; 

Deeming 1980; Rothermel and Deeming 1980; Ryan 

1981; Simard and others 1989) to estimate fireline 

intensity (Albini 1981a; Byram 1959; Fernandes and 

others 2009; Nelson 1980). Flame length (fig. 2-2) 

is proportional to fireline intensity in a spreading 

fire and is a useful measure of the potential to cause 

damage to aboveground structures (Alexander 1982; 

Ryan and Noste 1985; Van Wagner 1973). Actual field 

measurement of fireline intensity requires sophisticated instrumentation (Butler and Dickinson 2010; 

Butler and others 2004; Kremens and others 2010). 

Thus field observers often calculate fireline intensity 

from ocular estimates of flame length, simple flame 

height sensors (Finney and Martin 1992; Ryan 1981; 

Simard and others 1989), or vegetation damage indicators (Norum 1977; Ryan and Noste 1985) and use 

known relationships between fireline intensity and 

flame length (Albini 1981a; Byram 1959; Fernandes 

and others 2009; Nelson 1980). The appendix contains 

photographic examples of a range of flame lengths 

associated with fire intensity classes (table A-1, fig. 

A-1.1 to A-1.5, appendix) (Ryan 2002).

Rothermel (1972) defined a somewhat different measure of fire intensity, the Reaction Intensity, which is 

the heat per unit area. This is commonly used in fire 

danger rating (Deeming and others 1977) and fire 

behavior prediction (Albini 1976; Andrews 1986; Scott 

1998; Scott and Reinhardt 2001) in the United States. 

In contrast, the Canadian forest fire danger rating 

system (Stocks and others 1989) and the Canadian 

Forest Fire Behavior Prediction (FBP) System (Hirsch 

1996; Taylor and others 1996; Wotton and others 2009) 

calculate the intensity of surface fires using Byram’s 

(1959) equation. 

Depth of Burn

Although infrequent, fire is capable of burning independent of surface fuels. When it moves through the 

crown alone (independent crown fire), there is often 

little surface and subsurface effect because of the short 

burning duration of canopy fuels. More commonly, 

crown fires and torching are associated with active 

or running surface fires (appendix table A-1). If the 

duff is dry, it is ignited by the passage of a surface 

fire. Then, duff greater than about 4 cm deep (1.6 in) 

can burn independently without continued flaming 

in surface fuels (Frandsen 1997; Lawson and others 

1997a; Urbanski and others 2009) (fig. 2-16). During 

Figure 2-16—Illustration of duff consumption, percent of total 

duff available (%), as a function of lower duff (humus) moisture 

content for common forest conditions where duff is greater than 

4 centimeters deep and able to burn independent of a surface 

fire if dry enough to burn. Shaded area represents the range of 

consumptions found in the literature. Deeper layers and those 

with less mineral content tend toward greater consumption for 

given moisture content. 
40 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

glowing and smoldering combustion of surface and 

ground fuels, residence time is prolonged. The duration of smoldering can range from as little as 2 hours 

to more than 30 hours in deep organic soil horizons 

(Grishin and others 2009; Hungerford and others 1995; 

Reardon and others 2007, 2009; Rein and others 2008) 

(fig. 2-8). Given longer durations, heat may penetrate 

deeply into the soil profile. The term commonly used 

to describe the degree to which surface and ground 

fuels are consumed is “depth of burn.”

Ryan and Noste (1985) summarized literature on 

depth of burn and charring of plant materials and 

developed descriptive characteristics. Their original 

descriptions were revised to reflect subsequent work 

(DeBano and others 1998; Feller 1998; Moreno and 

Oechel 1989; Pérez and Moreno 1998; Ryan 2002) and 

were published in the Rainbow volume on the Effects 

of Fire on Soil and Water (Neary and others 2005). A 

description of the characteristics that they developed 

is provided for clarification of subsequent discussion 

of fire effects. The appendix includes several examples 

of depth of burn classes.

Unburned: Plant parts are green and unaltered; 

there is no direct effect from heat.

Scorched: Fire did not burn the area but radiated or convected heat caused visible damage. 

Mosses and leaves are brown or yellow but species 

characteristics are still identifiable. Soil heating 

is negligible.

Light: In forests, the surface litter, mosses, and 

herbaceous plants are charred to consumed but the 

underlying forest duff or organic soil is unaltered. 

Fine dead twigs are charred or consumed but larger 

branches remain. Logs may be blackened but are 

not deeply charred except where two logs cross. 

Leaves of understory shrubs and trees are charred 

or consumed but fine twigs and branches remain. In 

non-forest vegetation, plants are similarly charred 

or consumed; herbaceous plant bases are not deeply 

burned and are still identifiable, and charring of 

the mineral soil is limited to a few millimeters 

(fractions of an inch).

Moderate: In forests, the surface litter, mosses, 

and herbaceous plants are consumed. Shallow duff 

layers are completely consumed and charring occurs 

in the top centimeter (0.4 in.) of the mineral soil. 

Deep duff layers or organic soils are deeply burned 

to completely consumed, resulting in deep charcoal 

and ash deposits but the texture and structure of 

the underlying mineral soil are not visibly altered. 

Deep ash deposits are sometimes confused with 

oxidized mineral soil. Ash is fine and powdery when 

dry, slick and greasy when wet, whereas oxidized 

soil retains pebbles and granularity and feels gritty. 

Trees of later successional, shallow-rooted species 

often topple or are left on root pedestals. Fine dead 

twigs are completely consumed, larger branches 

and rotten logs are mostly consumed, and logs 

are deeply charred. Burned-out stump holes and 

rodent middens are common. Leaves of understory 

shrubs and trees are completely consumed. Fine 

twigs and branches of shrubs are mostly consumed 

(this effect decreases with height above the ground), 

and only the larger stems remain. Stems of these 

plants frequently burn off at the base during the 

ground fire phase, leaving residual aerial stems 

that were not consumed in the flaming phase lying 

on the ground. In non-forest vegetation, plants are 

similarly consumed; herbaceous plant bases are 

deeply burned and unidentifiable. In shrublands, 

charring of the mineral soil is on the order of 1.0 

centimeter (0.4 in.) but soil texture and structure 

are not clearly altered.

Deep: In forests growing on mineral soil, the surface litter, mosses, herbaceous plants, shrubs, and 

woody branches are completely consumed. Sound 

logs are consumed or deeply charred. Rotten logs 

and stumps are consumed. The top layer of the 

mineral soil is visibly oxidized, reddish to yellow. 

Surface soil texture is altered and, in extreme 

cases, fusion of particles occurs. A black band of 

charred organic matter 1 to 2 centimeters (0.4 to 

0.8 inches) thick occurs at variable depths below the 

surface. The depth of this band is an indication of 

the duration of extreme heating. The temperatures 

associated with oxidized mineral soil are associated 

with flaming rather than smoldering. Thus, deep 

depth of burn typically only occurs where woody 

fuels burn for extended duration, such as beneath 

individual logs or in concentrations of woody debris. 

In areas with deep organic soils, deep depth-of-burn 

occurs when ground fires consume the root-mat or 

burn beneath the root-mat. Trees often topple in 

the direction from which the smoldering fire front 

approached.

Fire Severity

Fire behavior refers to the manner in which a specific fire burns the fuel bed (fuel complex) in a given 

terrain with the prevailing weather conditions at the 

time. Fire behavior prediction is concerned primarily 

with the characteristics contributing to the advance of 

a free-burning fire. This issue is more directly related 

to fireline intensity (Alexander 1982; Byram 1959; 

Ryan and Noste 1985). One problem with applying 

fireline intensity in ecological studies is that it does 

not predict all of the combustion or quantify all of the 

energy released during a fire (Johnson and Miyanishi 2001; Ryan 2002; Keeley 2009). In contrast, fire 
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 41

severity is concerned with both the characteristics of 

the free burning fire as it spreads across an area and 

the characteristics of the stationary fire as it resides 

at a site (i.e., duration of burning), because it is the 

latter’s characteristics that primarily determine how 

deep into the soil profile fire and heat can penetrate 

(Frandsen and Ryan 1986; Hartford and Frandsen 

1992; Ryan 2002). Fire severity is a construct that 

describes the change in site properties/conditions due 

to fire. Fire severity describes the outcome rather than 

the process and is thus useful for understanding the 

ecological effects of fire on an ecosystem: the amount 

of organic matter lost from a location, vegetation 

mortality, and soil transformations (Feller 1998; Jain 

and others 2008; Kaufmann and others 2007; Keeley 

2002; Ryan 2002). The same principles apply when 

considering the impacts of fire on cultural resources 

found within the soil profile.

Following a fire, researchers are able to better understand fire dynamics by quantifying fire intensity 

and duration (Neary and others 2005; Ryan 2002; Ryan 

and Noste 1985). Several authors have quantified the 

depth of burning into the ground (DeBano and others 

1998; Feller 1998; Jain and Graham 2007; Jain and 

others 2008; Morgan and Neuenschwander 1988; Ryan 

and Noste 1985), and consumption (fig. 2-15) and depth 

of char in FWD and CWD (Albini and Reinhardt 1995, 

1997; Costa and Sandberg 2004). When depth of burn/

char measurements are coupled with estimates of flame 

length and fire spread direction, it is possible to recreate a fire’s movement through a stand. By combining 

flame length and depth of burn/char measurements, 

researchers are able to create a two-dimensional matrix 

of fire severity, which may be a useful classification 

of the level of fire treatment for comparative analysis 

of fire effects within and between fires. For example, 

Ryan and Noste (1985) (appendix table A-3) assessed 

the effects of fire on tree crowns and ground fuels by 

visiting burned sites and measuring scorch heights and 

using them to back-calculate fireline intensity using 

Van Wagner’s (1973, 1977) crown scorch model. Depth 

of burn/char measurements can be used to estimate 

residence time in surface fuels and soils. Wildland 

fuels are poor conductors of heat. Due to heat transfer 

constraints, fuels burn at relatively constant rates 

(Anderson 1969; Frandsen 1991a,b). A fire can be 

very intense, as exhibited by long flame lengths, but 

its duration within the forest strata most determines 

the depth of burn/char. Readers are referred to the 

recent review by Keeley (2009) for further discussion 

on the topic of fire intensity versus fire severity. A 

more in-depth discussion of the differences between fire 

intensity and fire severity can be found in the Effects 

of Fire on Soil and Water volume (Neary and others 

2005), and Ryan 2002. Field guidance on determining 

fire severity may also be found in the appendix. 

Integrating Fire Severity With 

Cultural Resources ______________

In short fire return forests where duff accumulation is restricted, the burnout of CWD is the primary 

source of deep soil heating (Monsanto and Agee 2008). 

In forests with long fire return intervals, the buildup 

of duff covers most of the forest floor surface. Logs, 

even at high fuel loadings, rarely cover more than 10 

percent of the soil surface area (Albini 1976; Brown 

and others 2003; Peterson and Ryan 1986). Thus, the 

most common source of deep soil heating is the burnout 

of the duff. Equations exist to predict duff consumption in the United States (Brown and others 1985, 

1991; Ottmar and others 1993, 2005; Reinhardt 2003) 

and Canada (Chrosciewicz 1968, 1978a,b; de Groot 

and others 2009; Muraro 1975; Van Wagner 1972). 

Predictions are available using both actual measured 

moisture contents (fig. 2-16) or more readily available 

fire danger rating indices (figs. 2-17, 2-18). Users are 

referred to equations in the CONSUME (Ottmar and 

others 1993, 2005, accessed November 13, 2009) and 

FOFEM (Reinhardt 2003) publications as a means of 

predicting expected duff, FWD, and CWD consumption 

in wildfires or prescribed fires.

In addition to the burnout of duff and woody fuels, 

there are a number of other means by which buried cultural resources can be heated. One of the most common 

is the burnout of stumps and dead roots. Commonly at 

cultural sites, logs and building materials are buried 

Figure 2-17—Illustration of duff consumption, percent of total 

duff available (%), as a function of U.S. National Fire Danger 

Rating System (NFDRS) (Deeming and others 1977) thousand 

hour moisture content for common forest conditions where duff 

is greater that 4 centimeters deep and able to burn independent 

of a surface fire if dry enough to burn (equation from Brown 

and others1985).
42 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

or partially buried. Once ignited these burn slowly, 

deeply heating lower layers in the soil profile. Another 

mode of subsurface heating is when soil is interspersed 

with organic material in old middens and dump sites 

where fire can freely move throughout the strata. For 

further discussion of these unique fire environments 

see chapters 6, 7 and 9. 

The conceptual model of fire severity developed by 

Ryan and Noste (1985) defines severity as the union of 

the heat pulse above the site and the heat pulse in the 

ground (heat pulse up – heat pulse down) (appendix 

table A-3). As the mass of fine fuel increases, so does 

the potential for a high intensity surface fire or crown 

fire. The primary weather factors that determine how 

intensely that fine fuel mass will burn are the wind 

speed and short-term drying (i.e., low relative humidity). Canopy fuels readily torch at relative humidity 

less than 20 percent. As fire intensity increases, so does 

the above-ground heat pulse. Likewise, the potential 

for fire to damage surface and above-ground cultural 

resources also increases. The increased radiant flux 

associated with large flames more effectively heats 

surfaces at greater distances than is possible with 

small flames (see sidebar 2-1). Also, as fire intensity 

increases, fires become more uniformly severe as more 

surface and canopy fuel is consumed. As the depth of 

burn increases the potential to damage surface and 

sub surface resources increases. With greater depth of 

Figure 2-18—Illustration of duff depth reduction (in.) as a function of varying initial duff depths (in.) and U.S. National Fire 

Danger Rating System (NFDRS) (Deeming and others 1977) 

thousand hour moisture content based on Brown and others 

1985. (1 in. = 2.54 cm.)

burn, more heat is released for a longer period of time 

and the distance between the combustion zone and a 

buried artifact is reduced as organic soil horizons are 

consumed. The primary factors determining the depth 

of burn are long-term drying and the depth of organic 

material available on the site (fig. 2-19). The primary 

factor determining the temperatures reached in the soil 

is the depth of burn whether resulting from increased 

duff consumption (fig. 2-20) or increased burnout of 

coarse woody debris (fig. 2-21). The depth of burn and 

the temperatures reached in the soil determine the 

damage to subsurface cultural resources.

In their work on classifying fire severity, Ryan and 

Noste (1985), Ryan (2002), and Neary and others 

(2005) stressed the concept that one needs to look 

independently at the heat pulse above the fire as well 

as the heat pulse in the ground. For practical reasons, 

it is often impossible to adequately instrument a 

site in order to get definitive measures of the energy 

release characteristics or temperature history across 

a burned area of interest. The spatial variability of 

fuels and fire behavior within most fires precludes 

actual quantification in most cases. Classification of 

the level of fire treatment has considerable pragmatic 

utility. While remote sensing of fire characteristics is 

becoming increasingly common (Kremens and others 

2010; Lentile and others 2006, 2007, 2009) and realtime monitoring from remote platforms such as aircraft or satellites shows great promise for the future, 

most cultural resource specialists will have to rely on 

proxy data to reconstruct and classify the level of fire 

treatment associated with observed fire effects. In the 

case of unplanned fires, ex post facto measures are 

all that is available to ecologists and archaeologists 

alike. The fire severity matrix (appendix table A-3) 

describes a classification of fires in a 6 by 4 matrix 

with six classes of heat pulse above the ground and 

four classes of depth of burn including the unburned 

case. In addition, figures 2-16 through 2-21 can help 

inform burning prescriptions designed to manage the 

effects of fire on cultural resources during fuel reduction and ecosystem restoration treatments. Buenger 

(2003) presented data and synthesis of the effects 

of high temperatures on various archaeological and 

historically significant materials. Data are also presented on temperature effects on ceramics (chapter 3), 

lithics (chapter 4), and historic era materials (chapter 

6) in this publication. Ryan (2010) summarized these 

temperatures and discussed the importance of the duration of exposure to high temperatures (sidebar 2-2). 

These temperatures can be compared to representative 

temperature histories of fires (e.g., figs. 2-8, 2-10, 2-11, 

2-12, 2-14, 2-19, and 2-20) to bound expected fire effects when planning prescribed burns or post wildfire 

rehabilitation and stabilization.
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 43 Figure 2-19—Representative temperature histories for fires of varying severity: (a) crownfire/low depth of burn (DOB), (b) crownfire/moderate DOB, (c) ac- tive surface fire/low DOB, (d) creeping surface fire/moderate DOB. (See text and appendix for fire intensity and DOB descriptions.) Differing combinations of high temperature and duration of heating lead to fires of different severity. Changes in site variables, including terrain and vegetative structure, and weather variables lead to fires of differing peak temperature and duration. Broad arrows indicate increasing site and weather potential. Both site and weather conditions must be met to affect fire severity (adapted from Ryan 2002).
44 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

Figure 2-20—Temperature ranges associated with various biophysical fire effects 

(top) (modified from Hungerford and others 1991) and cultural resource fire effects 

(center) compared to the depth of heat penetration into mineral soil (bottom) for 

a crown fire over exposed mineral soil (observed in jack pine Pinus banksiana in 

the Canadian Northwest Territories) or for ground fire burning in 5-, 15-, and 25-cm 

of duff (predicted by Campbell and others1994, 1995). Conditions are for coarse 

dry soil, which provides the best conduction (i.e., a worst-case scenario) (adapted 

from Ryan 2002).
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 45

Fire Regime ____________________

In current fire management, the highest spatial and 

temporal fire scale of interest is described by the fire 

regime (fig. 2-1). Scott (2000) refers to the paleo-fire 

triangle—an even higher scale represented by atmosphere, vegetation, and climate—which recognizes that 

terrain and atmospheric chemistry are variable over 

geologic time frames. This longer term perspective 

may not seem too relevant to fire managers; however, 

in the study of climate-vegetation-fire relationships 

that affected ancient cultures, it is germane to many 

reconstructions of archaeological information. Understanding climate-vegetation-fire interactions is likely 

to become of greater importance in formulating future 

fuels treatment and restoration policies under climate 

change scenarios (Lovejoy and Hannah 2005). 

Fire regime concepts emerged in the fire ecology 

literature with the early work of Heinselman (1978, 

1981) and Kilgore (1981). In recent years there has 

been considerable refinement in fire regime concepts as 

ecologists have investigated more ecosystems and have 

developed a greater appreciation for how fire regimes 

vary over time. At the same time, ecological theory 

has matured to recognize the importance of periodic 

disturbance to the maintenance of ecological integrity 

(Agee 1993; Hardy and others 2001; Morgan and others 

2001; Sugihara and others 2006). In the United States, 

Figure 2-21—Maximum soil temperatures predicted by the soil heating model in the 

First Order Fire Effects Model ( FOFEM) (Reinhardt and others 2005) for varying 

loadings of coarse woody debris (CWD (from Brown and others 2003). Solid lines 

depicting 1, 3, 5, and 9 cm below the soil starting from top to bottom.

the use of fire regime concepts has increasingly been 

used in the fire ecology and management communities, particularly in the context of the Coarse-Scale 

Assessment of Fire Regime Condition Class (FRCC) 

(Schmidt and others 2002) (table 2-4) and because its 

use is mandated under the Healthy Forests Restoration Act of 2003 (H.R. 1904). Fire regime refers to the 

general nature of the type of fire that most commonly 

occurred over long time periods (Agee 1993; Brown 

2000; Hardy and others 1998; Sugihara and others 2006). 

Table 2-4—Historical natural fire regimes from Coarse-Scale 

Assessment of Fire Regime Condition Class 

(Schmidt and others 2001).

Code Description

I 0-35 year frequencya

, low severityb

II 0-35 year frequency, stand replacement severity

III 35-100+ year frequency, mixed severity

IV 35-100+ year frequency, stand replacement severity

V 200+ year frequency, stand replacement severity 

a Fire frequency is the average number of years between fires. 

b Severity is the effect of the fire on the dominant overstory vegetation.
46 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

Sidebar 2-2—Impact of Temperature and Duration of Heating on Lithics

It is common knowledge that many material transitions occur as complex functions of temperature and duration of 

exposure. Such functions are often described by Arrhenius functions (fig. S-2.1) (Ryan 2010). Few time-temperature data 

are available (e.g., Bennett and Kunzman 1985; Buenger 2003), and those that do exist are not robust enough to calculate 

actual Arrhenius functions but they are adequate to illustrate their potential use. The following example uses data from 

Bennett and Kunzman (1985) to illustrate the principle. (Bennett and Kunzman’s work is unpublished but widely cited 

and sometimes misinterpreted because the results of laboratory muffle furnace results are difficult to extrapolate to field 

burning situations.) 

General Information:

• Type of research: Laboratory experiment 

• Purpose: Heating experiment was designed to mimic a range of wildland fire situations

• Experimental heating of artifacts conducted by Bennett and Kunzman, Western Archeological and Conservation 

Center, National Park Service, Tucson, Arizona

• Heating description:

Temperature range: 200 to 800 °C (392 to 1472 o

F)

Duration: 3,000,000 degree-minutes for temperatures between 200 and 600 °C (392 and 1112 o

F); 1,345,000 and 

1,400,000 degree-minutes for two trial runs of 800 °C (1472 o

F) max temperature.

• Equipment used: 

Electric thermolyne-type 1400 muffle furnace; temperature measured by a Weelco controller

Temperatures of heated specimens measured by 36 gauge iron-constantan (type J) thermocouples

Perkin Elmer 599 infra-red spectrometer used to measure bound water loss

Procedures:

Peter Bennett and Michael Kunzmann (1985) conducted experimental heating of artifacts in the materials and ecological testing laboratory of the Western Archeological and Conservation Center in Tucson, Arizona. They used a muffle 

furnace to assess potential damage to artifacts heated at prescribed burn temperatures. In their experiments, Bennet 

and Kunzman examined specimens of chert, flint, chalcedony, obsidian, prehistoric earthenware, and historic to modern 

bone, glass and enameled tinware. Separate samples of specimens were heated in the furnace to different maximum temperatures. Duration of heating was measured in degree-minutes. Degree-minutes of heating were equal to the maximum 

temperature reached minus 100 °C (212 o

F) multiplied by the time in minutes: (max. temp. – 100 °C (212 oF)) (minutes 

heated). Duration of heating in degree-minutes was generally kept standard. 

Color change and other visual alterations to the surface of items were recorded. Heating effects to artifact structure 

were identified in terms of chemically bound water loss and weight loss due to causes other than evaporation of free water. Free water evaporation was measured by heating specimens in a drying oven at 100 °C (212 o

F). Loss of chemically 

bound water was determined with the use of an infrared spectrometer on ground-up pieces of specimens before and after 

furnace heating. Weight loss not accounted for by free or bound water loss was attributed to other causes. 

Specimens were also heated and plunged into cold water to test for thermal shock. The rate of cooling in water was 

judged to be greater than 500 °C (932 o

F) per minute. Although this test was not carefully controlled, a minimal amount 

of observed cracking and spalling led Bennett and Kunzman to conclude that thermal shock was not a major concern in 

prescribed burns. 

Given estimates of the Arrhenius functions for various cultural materials provide a means to compare expected temperatures and durations of fires to assess the likelihood of CR damage. Such assessments require applying knowledge of 

the CR material type and its location (for example, exposed above ground versus insulated by unburnable mineral soil), 

the combustion characteristics of nearby fuels, and the heat transfer mechanisms coupling fire behavior to the CR. In 

practice, many cultural materials including lithics are composed of various elements, often in layers, and each with their 

own thermal properties. Rapid heating or cooling can create internal stresses that cause materials to fracture (e.g., potlidding, spalling). Such mechanical failures are difficult to explain with Arrhenius functions; however, time-temperature 

relationships help to explain why an artifact of a given material type might display similar damage over a range of fire 

behaviors. Likewise, they help explain why two different material types might display very different effects from a given 

fire behavior.
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 47

Figure S2.1. Time-temperature relationships for four lithic materials (from Bennett and Kunzman 1985).
48 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

The actual terms used and the concepts they describe 

vary somewhat and this can result in confusion. Fire 

regimes include descriptions of the frequency and 

severity of the fire. Older literature often referred to 

the effects of the fire as intensity but common usage 

in current North American literature favors the term 

fire severity as a description of the effects of fire (Agee 

1993; Brown 2000; Hardy and others 1998; Keeley 

2009; Neary and others 2005; Ryan 2002). Readers 

are referred to the Effects of Fire on Flora (Brown 

2000) for a description of various early uses of the fire 

regime concept. There is a large body of more recent 

fire regime-related literature, the review of which is 

beyond the scope of this chapter. Interested readers 

are invited to type the words “fire regime” into their 

favorite internet search engine.

The following terms are commonly encountered in 

the fire regime literature. Understory fire regime, 

surface fire regime, low severity fire regime, and 

non-lethal fire regime are terms used to describe fires 

that are generally non-lethal to the dominant vegetation and do not substantially change the structure of 

the dominant vegetation (Brown 2000). Such descriptions apply to forests and woodlands. As originally 

defined by Brown (2000), approximately 80 percent or 

more of the dominant vegetation must survive to be 

deemed non-lethal. In the FRCC field methods used 

by Federal land management agencies in the United 

States, the cut-off is 75 percent or more (Hann and 

Bunnell 2001). In either case, most of the dominant 

arboreal vegetation survives. A stand replacement 

fire or lethal regime is one that either consumes or 

kills 80 percent or more of the above-ground dominant 

vegetation (Brown 2000), or 75 percent or more according to FRCC field methods (http://www.frcc.gov) 

(Hann and Bunnell 2001). Stand replacement fire 

regimes apply to forests, woodlands, shrublands, and 

grasslands (Brown 2000). In the case of grasslands, 

the post-fire community often recovers quickly from 

surviving meristematic tissues, such as rhizomes 

and bulbs. Intermediate regimes, or those between 

understory and stand replacement fire regimes, are 

generally referred to as mixed severity fire regimes.

Mixed severity fire regimes can occur due to variation 

in space or time. However, some forest types tend to go 

through cycles wherein the series of low severity fires 

is periodically punctuated with stand replacement fires 

as long-term climate trends oscillate between warmdry and cool-moist climate periods. Brown (2000) and 

several other authors also recognize a non-fire regime 

where there is little or no occurrence of natural fire. 

This description may be useful in discussions of vegetation types where fire is rare. However, upon close 

inspection, evidence of past fires is found in virtually 

all non-marine vegetation types (Andreae 1991; Bond 

and others 2005; Clark and others 1997; Delacourt 

and Delacourt 1997; Levine 1991; Levine and others 

1995, 1996a,b; Power and others 2008). Determining 

whether or not these fires are natural or were started 

by aboriginal people is often problematic (Anderson 

2005; Barrett and Arno 1982; Bonnicksen 2000; Boyd 

1999; Denevan 1992; Vale 2002). Throughout the 

period of human occupation of North America, aboriginal people are widely believed to have extensively 

burned the landscape (Bonnicksen 2000; Boyd 1999; 

Delacourt and Delacourt 1997; Delacourt and others 

1998; Erickson 2008; Gavin and others 2007; Hallett 

and others 2003; Jurney and others 2004; Kay 1994, 

1998, 2007a,b; Keeley 2002; Leenhouts 1998; Lewis 

1989; Moore 1972; Nevle and Bird 2008; Pausas and 

Keeley 2009; Stewart 1956, 1982; Williams 2000). Use 

of fire by aboriginal people was pervasive (Anderson 

2005; Barrett and Arno 1982; Boyd 1999; Kay 1994; 

Denevan 1992; Kay and Simmons 2002; Williams 

2000). Infrequent fires can have long-lasting effects on 

species composition and stand structure (Brown and 

others 1999; Frost 1998; Kaufmann and others 2000, 

2004).

Fire Planning ___________________

The careful planning and implementation of fuel 

treatment or restoration projects can go a long way 

toward minimizing the potential impacts on cultural 

resources (see chapter 9). Well executed projects can 

greatly reduce the impacts of subsequent wildfires. 

Also integrating fire behavior and effects concepts 

with an understanding of how cultural resources are 

impacted by fire (fig. 2-20) can aid in the planning and 

implementation of post-fire restoration and monitoring.

Planning fuels treatments, restoration projects, or 

suppression activities requires that cultural resource 

specialists collaboratively plan activities with fire 

management personnel (see chapter 9). In addition to 

the graphical aids in this chapter (figs. 2-15 through 

2-21), there are numerous software decision support 

tools, databases, and syntheses available to resource 

professionals. There are a number of agency-developed 

software programs that can be used to predict fire 

behavior and to project probable effects at both the 

site and landscape levels. These predictive tools, 

used by managers to support planning and decisions, 

vary in their inputs, outputs, and uses. The following 

discussion identifies a few commonly used by the fire 

management community. For more information please 

visit http://fire.org, the Fire Research and Management 

Exchange System (FRAMES, http://frames.nbii.gov/

portal/server.pt), or use an internet search engine to 

search each program individually. Additional resources 

are listed in table 2-5.
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 49

Resource/Tool Description

Type of tool

Fire 

ecology 

resource

Resource 

search

Monitoring/

Modeling

Smith, J.K., ed. 2000. 

Wildland fire in ecosystems: 

effects of fire on fauna.

http://www.treesearch.fs.fed.us/

pubs/4553

A volume from the Rainbow Series that 

outlines the effects of fire on North American 

fauna. 

X

Brown, J.K.; Smith, J.K., eds. 2000.

Wildland fire in ecosystems: 

effects of fire on flora.

http://www.treesearch.fs.fed.us/

pubs/4554

A volume of the Rainbow Series that outlines 

historical and current fire regimes and fire 

effects organized by Kuchler Natural Potential 

Vegetation Types.

X

Neary, D.G.; Ryan, K.C.; DeBano, 

L.F., eds. 2005.

Wildland fire in ecosystems: 

effects of fire on soil and water.

http://www.treesearch.fs.fed.us/

pubs/20912

A volume from the Rainbow Series that 

outlines the effects of soil and water. The 

volume: 1) defines fire severity as it affects 

soil and water resources, 2) synthesizes 

the state of knowledge on the effects of fire 

on the physical, chemical and biological 

properties of soil; and water quality; and 3) 

summarizes erosion models and burned area 

rehabilitation practices

X

Sandberg, D.V.; Ottmar, R.D.; 

Peterson, J.C.; Core, J. 2002.

Wildland fire in ecosystems: the 

effects of fire on air.

http://www.treesearch.fs.fed.us/

pubs/5247

A volume from the Rainbow Series that 

outlines the effects of fire on air quality to 

assist managers with smoke planning. 

X

Zouhar, K.; Smith, J.K.; Sutherland, 

S.; Brooks, M.L. 2008.

Wildland fire in ecosystems: fire 

and non-native invasive plants.

http://www.treesearch.fs.fed.us/

pubs/30622

A volume from the Rainbow Series that 

outlines the effects of fire on exotic and 

invasive weeds

X

Grissino-Mayer, H.D. 2003.

Dendrochronology Literature 

Database

http://www.waldwissen.net/themen/

wald_gesellschaft/forstgeschichte/

wsl_jahrringforschung_datenbank_

EN

A searchable database of tree-ring literature, 

including many fire history studies. This 

literature can provide information about 

fire effects, fire history, fire regimes, and 

disturbance interactions, among other topics.

X

ESSA Technologies Ltd.

TELSA: Tool for Exploratory 

Landscape Scenario Analysis.

http://www.essa.com/tools/telsa/

index.html

A spatially explicit, landscape-level model 

of forest dynamics to help assess the 

consequences of alternative management 

scenarios. Used with VDDT and ArcView 

3.X. Software and training are available upon 

request.

X

ESSA Technologies Ltd.

VDDT: Vegetation Dynamics 

Development Tool.

http://www.essa.com/tools/vddt/

index.html

Public domain state-transition modeling 

software that provides functions for natural 

vegetation succession and natural and 

human disturbances. Resulting models 

can help create estimates of percent cover 

for different vegetation types (states) and 

important drivers in landscape change 

(transitions). Models are not spatially 

explicit and do not account for biophysical 

constraints.

X

Table 2-5—Annotated list of fire effects resources for planning and evaluating fuel treatment and restoration projects and surveying 

and monitoring wildland fire management activities (adapted and modified from Kelly Pohl, TNC Global Fire Initiative, 

LANDFIRE Program).
50 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

Resource/Tool Description

Type of tool

Fire 

ecology 

resource

Resource 

search

Monitoring/

Modeling

U.S. Department of Agriculture

Fire Effects Information System 

(FEIS)

http://www.fs.fed.us/database/feis/

A complete database of the effects of fire on 

plant and wildlife species and communities 

in North America, searchable by species or 

Kuchler Potential Natural Vegetation Type. 

Contains sections on distribution, botanical 

and ecological characteristics, succession, 

fire ecology and effects, management 

considerations, and case studies. 

X

U.S. Department of Agriculture

Fire Effects Information System 

(FEIS) Citation Reference System 

(CRS)

http://www.feis-crs.org/

A searchable database of all of the 

references cited in the Fire Effects 

Information System (FEIS). Searchable by 

subject, year, author, or any combination 

thereof. A complete fire history literature 

database!

X

U.S. Department of Agriculture & 

The Nature Conservancy

Fire Regime Condition Class 

Guidebook and Reference 

Conditions

http://www.frcc.gov

A standardized, interagency protocol for 

assessing the departure of current conditions 

from historical reference conditions. 

Information and methodology are available 

at the web address listed. National training 

events are held regularly. Reference 

Conditions for potential natural vegetation 

groups across the U.S. are described, 

including reference mean fire intervals and 

successional stages.

X X

The Northwest and Alaska Fire 

Research Clearinghouse.

FIREhouse

http://depts.washington.edu/nwfire/

A web-based data center providing 

documentation and data on fire science and 

technology relevant to Washington, Oregon, 

Idaho, and Alaska. 

X

Fire Sciences Laboratory

FIREMON: Fire Effects Monitoring 

Protocol

http://frames.nbii.gov/firemon

Sampling protocol, sources, and forms 

for determining current conditions. 

Methodologies can be used directly or serve 

as templates.

X

FRAMES: Fire Research and 

Management Exchange System

http://frames.nbii.gov/portal/server.pt

A suite of software developed for fire 

management professionals, including 

modeling programs like BEHAVE and 

FARSITE. Also an information exchange 

with bulletin boards and notice pages 

that facilitate collaboration among fire 

management professionals. 

X

Interagency Research Partnership

Joint Fire Sciences Program

http://www.firescience.gov/

The Joint Fire Science Program (JFSP) funds 

research and development projects focused 

on improving the knowledge available for 

management and policy decisions to support 

federal, tribal, state, and local agencies and 

their partners. JFSP provides access to 

reports of past projects and links to related 

sites.

X X

U.S. Department of Agriculture, 

U.S. Geological Society, The Nature 

Conservancy, U.S. Department of 

the Interior

LANDFIRE

http://www.landfire.gov

LANDFIRE is a wildland fire, ecosystem, and 

fuel assessment-mapping project designed 

to generate consistent, comprehensive, 

landscape-scale maps of vegetation, fire, and 

fuel characteristics for the United States. 

X X

Table 2-5—Continued
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 51

Resource/Tool Description

Type of tool

Fire 

ecology 

resource

Resource 

search

Monitoring/

Modeling

Systems for Environmental 

Management

Fire.org: Public Domain Software 

for the Wildland Fire Community

http://www.fire.org/

Systems for Environmental Management 

provides downloadable versions of public 

domain software for predicting fire weather, 

behavior, and effects ass well as links to 

other sources of fire information.

X

Schmidt, K.M.; Menakis, J.P.; Hardy, 

C.C.; Hann, W.J.; Bunnell, D.L. 

2002.

Development of coarse-scale 

spatial data for wildland fire and 

fuel management. 

http://www.treesearch.fs.fed.us/

pubs/4590

A national-scale mapping of fire regime 

data, including potential natural vegetation 

groups, current cover types, and historical 

and current fire regime condition classes. GIS 

data layers are available. Note that this data 

is at ecoregional scales and not suitable for 

project scale.

X

Tall Timbers Research Station and 

Land Conservancy

Tall Timbers Library

http://www.talltimbers.org/infolibrary.html

A searchable database of literature on fire 

ecology, prescribed fire use, and control of 

fires. Has an international scope with a focus 

on the southeastern U.S. 

X

The Nature Conservancy 

Global Fire Initiative

http://www.tncfire.org/training_

landfire_techTransfer.htm

A resources site that describes how to use 

the ESSA VVDT successional models in the 

LANDFIRE Vegetation Model Library, and 

contains many other fire resources designed 

to help land managers.

X X X

Forest Service Research and 

Development

Treesearch

http://www.treesearch.fs.fed.us/

A searchable database of all USDA Forest 

Service publications online. Searchable by 

author, year, and region. 

X

USDA Natural Resources 

Conservation Service

The PLANTS Database

http://plants.usda.gov/index.html

A comprehensive database that provides 

standardized information on the vascular 

plants, mosses, liverworts, hornworts, and 

lichens of the US and its territories. PLANTS 

includes names, photos, checklists, and 

automated tools. 

X

USDI National Park Service

National Park Service Fire 

Monitoring Handbook

http://www.nps.gov/fire/download/

fir_eco_FEMHandbook2003.pdf

Outlining the National Park Service’s 

standardized fire effects monitoring protocol, 

including setting goals and objectives, 

designing pre- and post-burn sampling, and 

data analysis. Also includes useful field 

forms, checklists, and additional reading lists. 

X

Wildland Fire Lessons Learned 

Center

http://www.wildfirelessons.net/

A web-based clearinghouse of information, 

case studies, and lessons learned to 

improve performance, safety, efficiency, and 

organizational learning in the interagency 

wildland fire community.

X

Gassaway, L.

Fire Archaeology

http://web.mac.com/linnog/Fire_

Arch/Home.html

A site designed to “disseminate information 

on the effects of fire to cultural resources, 

both historic and prehistoric.” Includes 

information on protection, policy, and 

management. 

X

Federal Preservation Institute

Historic Preservation Learning 

Portal

https://www.historicpreservation.gov/

web/guest/home

Portal with information in the field of historic 

preservation that covers and allows users 

to search for laws, policies, literature, news, 

case studies, training, and best practices. 

X X

Table 2-5—Continued
52 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

Fire Planning Software

Behave-Plus, v 5.0 (Andrews 2008; Heinsch and 

Andrews 2010) predicts wildland fire behavior for fire 

management purposes. Behave-Plus is used for realtime fire prediction of fire behavior on a specific site 

for a specific set of burning conditions, and as a treatment planning tool. This software uses the minimum 

amount of site-specific input data to predict fire for a 

given point in time and space. Behave-Plus is useful 

for gaming a proposed treatment by allowing users 

to quickly test the effect of changes in fuel moisture, 

wind, and fuel loading on predicted fire behavior and 

effects, thereby allowing the user to hone in on a favorable prescription window. 

FARSITE (Finney 1998) is a landscape-level fire 

growth simulation model for forecasting fire growth and 

intensity and requires the input of topography, fuels, 

and weather and wind files. This software incorporates 

existing models for surface fire, crown fire, spotting, 

post-frontal combustion, and fire acceleration in a 

two-dimensional fire growth model. It was developed 

initially as a tool for managing fires in wilderness areas 

where fire often burns for several weeks. FARSITE was 

developed to predict how far a fire could spread over 

long periods of time under changing fire environment 

(fuels, terrain, and weather). Thus it requires landscape maps of fuels and terrain along with predicted 

weather over the simulation period. In the modeling 

framework, fuels are digital representations of fuel-bed 

properties using either the Anderson 13 fire behavior 

fuel models (Anderson 1982), the 40 Scott and Burgan 

fuel models (Scott and Burgan 2005), or user-defined 

custom fuel models (Burgan and Rothermel 1984). While 

FARSITE does not explicitly require fuels data at any 

particular spatial resolution, analyses are typically 

at 30-meter pixel (900 m2

) (0.22 acre). This spatial 

resolution is based on analysis of readily available 

LANDSAT TM-7 data. In the United States, FARSITE 

fuel and vegetation inputs are freely available through 

the standardized LANDFIRE national data product 

(www.landfire.gov) (Rollins 2009; Reeves and others 

2009; Rollins and others 2006; Ryan and others 2006). 

Digital terrain is routinely available from a variety of 

sources (e.g., USGS), including LANDFIRE. Weather 

input is provided by the user either from predicted 

weather or historic climate/weather data. FARSITE 

is spatially explicit and predicts fire spread and intensity for every place on the perimeter at every time 

step. Thus, as fires grow in size the model becomes 

increasingly computationally intensive. Guidance 

for inputting fuels data and analyzing potential fire 

behavior are contained in Stratton (2006).

FlamMap is a related model that looks at the spatial pattern of fire potential under static, user-defined 

weather conditions. Thus it is useful for determining 

the fire potential in the vicinity of infrastructure (Cohen 

2000), natural resources, and cultural resource sites. 

FlamMap creates raster maps of potential fire behavior 

characteristics (spread rate, flame length, and crown 

fire activity) and environmental conditions (dead fuel 

moisture, mid-flame wind speeds, and solar irradiance) 

over the entire landscape. Unlike FARSITE, there is 

no temporal component in FlamMap although they 

use the same spatial and tabular data as input. This 

input includes a landscape file, initial fuel moistures, 

custom fuel models, as well as optional conversion 

weather and wind files. Many fire behavior models are 

incorporated into FlamMap ranging from Rothermel’s 

1972 surface fire spread model to Nelson’s 2000 fuel 

moisture model. In addition to technical knowledge of 

fire, FARSITE and FlamMap may require geographic 

information system analyst assistance to obtain spatial 

landscape information for input to the program.

FireFamily Plus, v.4 (http://www.firemodels.org/

index.php/national-systems/firefamilyplus, accessed 

May 5, 2011) is a software package that quickly summarizes historic weather patterns for local management planning in the United States. Fire Family Plus 

combines fire climatology and occurrence analysis 

capabilities of the PCFIRDAT, PCSEASON, FIRES 

and CLIMATOLOGY programs into a single package 

with a graphical user interface. This software package 

is valuable for designing burning prescriptions that 

are operationally feasible by letting the user determine 

the frequency and timing of suitable burning weather. 

In particular, users can analyze historic drying trends 

critical for achieving cultural resource objectives in 

prescribed burns.

NEXUS, v. 2.0 (Scott and Reinhardt 2001) is crown 

fire hazard analysis software that links to separate 

models of surface and crown fire behavior to compute 

relative crown fire potential. This software is used to 

compare crown fire potential for different stands and 

compare the effects of alternative fuel treatments on 

crown fire potential. NEXUS updated its previous 

model from an Excel spreadsheet to a stand-alone 

program in 2003. The information may be combined 

with other program output in the future to better 

understand crown fire development and behavior. 

Operators of this program should be familiar with 

BehavePlus (Andrews 2008; Heinsch and Andrews 

2010) and be familiar with crown modeling techniques 

to fully comprehend the simulations in NEXUS and 

their respective meanings. 

Behave Plus, FARSITE, and FlamMap are all 

meant for users trained in fire planning, behavior, 

and effects. This group of users should be familiar 

with fuels, weather, topography, wildfire situations, 

and associated concepts and terminology. Use of these 

programs is strictly intended to provide information 

to trained professionals to make educated land and 

fire management decisions.
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 53

Prometheus, v. 5.3 (http://www.firegrowthmodel.

com/) is a deterministic fire growth simulation model 

(Tymstra and others 2010). It uses spatial fire behavior input data on topography (slope, aspect, and elevation) and Canadian Forest Fire Behavior Prediction 

(FBP) System fuel types, along with weather stream 

and FBP fuel type lookup table files. Prometheus 

uses the simple ellipse as the underlying template 

to shape fire growth, and simulates fire growth using the Canadian Forest Fire Danger Rating System 

(CFFDRS)—Fire Weather Index (FWI) and Fire FBP 

Sub-Systems—to model fire behavior outputs. It uses 

Grid ASCII, Generate files, and Shapefiles. Prometheus 

is a national interagency project endorsed by the Canadian Interagency Forest Fire Centre (CIFFC) and 

its members. 

The Canadian Forest Fire Behavior Prediction 

(FBP) System (http://cwfis.cfs.nrcan.gc.ca/en_CA/

background/summary/fbp, accessed February 5, 

2010) (Hirsch 1996) provides quantitative estimates 

of potential head fire spread rate (ROS), total fuel 

consumption, and fire intensity. With the aid of the 

Prometheus elliptical fire growth model, it gives estimates of fire area, perimeter, perimeter growth rate, 

and flank and back fire behavior. Descriptions of the 

primary outputs follow: 

1. Rate of Spread (ROS) is the predicted speed 

of the fire at the front or head of the fire (where 

the fire moves fastest). It takes into account 

both crowning and spotting and is measured in 

meters per minute based on the Fuel Type (FT), 

Initial Spread Index (ISI), Buildup Index (BUI), 

and several fuel-specific parameters, such as 

phenological state (leafless or green) in deciduous 

trees, crown base height in coniferous trees, and 

percent curing in grasses. 

2. Total Fuel Consumption (TFC) is the predicted 

weight of fuel consumed by the fire both on the 

forest floor and in the crowns of the trees. It is 

measured in kilograms per square meter of ground 

surface and is based on Foliar Moisture Content 

(FMC), Surface Fuel Consumption (SFC), and 

ROS. 

3. Head Fire Intensity (HFI) is the predicted intensity, or energy output, of the fire at the front 

or head of the fire. This is one of the standard 

gauges by which fire managers estimate the difficulty of controlling a fire and select appropriate 

suppression methods. It is measured in kilowatts 

per meter of fire front and is based on the ROS 

and TFC. 

4. Crown Fraction Burned (CFB) is the predicted 

fraction of the tree crowns consumed by the fire 

based on BUI, FMC, SFC, and ROS. 

5. Fire Type (FT) is a general description of the 

fire based on the CFB. 

The First Order Fire Effects Model (FOFEM)

(http://frames.nacse.org/0/939.html, accessed May 5, 

2011) (Reinhardt 2003) is used by managers and planners to predict and plan for fire effects. FOFEM is used 

for impact assessment and for long range planning 

and policy development; it helps quantify predictions 

needed for planning prescribed fires that best accomplish resource needs. FOFEM inputs are divided into 

four geographic regions of the United States, thereby 

adding resolution through built-in forest cover types. 

Outputs include tree mortality; smoke emissions; 

consumption of duff, FWD, and CWD; mineral soil 

exposure; and soil heating. Users refer to FOFEM output to set upper and lower fuel moisture limits when 

writing prescriptions for conducting prescribed burns 

to manage vegetation injury and particulate emissions 

from a projected fire area. FOFEM can also be used 

to assess the effects of wildfire. This information is 

potentially valuable for designing post-fire surveys and 

rehabilitation projects. The list of output variables are 

(1) fuel consumption (percent consumption for these 

components: fine woody, coarse woody, and duff); (2) 

smoke (kg km2

 for these emission classes: PM2.5, CO2, 

CH4, and NOx); (3) tree mortality (% mortality); and 

(4) soil heating (e.g., depth in cm at which temperature 

is 60 °C (140 °F) for 1 min (lethal) or 275 °C (527 °F) 

(irreversible damage to organics)).

Consume, v. 3.1 (http://www.fs.fed.us/pnw/fera/

research/smoke/consume/consume30_users_guide.

pdf, assessed May 5, 2011), (Ottmar and others 2007) 

predicts the amount of fuel consumption and emissions 

from burning logged units, piled debris, and natural 

fuels. The required inputs include weather data, the 

amount and moisture content of fuels, and other factors. 

Resource managers can accurately determine when and 

where to conduct prescribed burns to achieve desired 

objectives while reducing impacts on other resources. 

This software may be used for most forests, shrubs and 

grasslands in North America (adapted from abstract 

from Consume 2.0 user guide). 

Weather is the most variable element in the fire 

environment. While antecedent and current weather 

are the primary considerations for predicting or documenting the direct effects of a specific fire on cultural 

resources, climate analyses are important for planning 

fuel treatment and restoration projects (Cerdà and 

Robichaud 2009; Neary and others 2005; Pannkuk 

and others 2000; Robichaud and others 2007) as well 

as in assessing the potential impacts of a fire on subsequent erosion (Johnson 2004a,b). Post-fire erosion 

often poses a greater threat to cultural resources than 

the direct effects of heat and smoke. The potential for 

post-fire erosion increases with increasing fire severity 

(Cerdà and Robichaud 2009; Neary and others 2005; 

Robichaud and others 2007) (fig. 2-22).
54 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

Basic knowledge of climate, particularly seasonal 

patterns, can be used within shorter term weather 

forecasting to refine management prescriptions 

(Bowman and others 2009; Brown and others 2005; 

Heyerdahl and others 2008; Kitzberger and others 

2007; Littell and others 2009; Morgan and others 2008; 

Preisler and Westerling 2007; Skinner and others 

2006; Swetnam and Betancourt 1990, 1998; Trouet and 

others 2009; Wang and others 2010; Westerling and 

others 2006). Climate models are used for a variety of 

purposes, from study of the dynamics of the weather 

and climate system to projections of future climate.

Major recognized weather patterns include the 

North Atlantic Oscillation (NAO) (Ambaum and others 

2001); the Northern Annular Mode (NAM) (McAfee 

and Russell 2008), (http://www.atmos.colostate.edu/

ao/introduction.html, assessed May 5, 2011); the 

Arctic Oscillation (AO); Madden-Julian 30 to 60 Day 

Intra-seasonal Oscillation (MJO); The Indian Ocean 

Dipole (IOD), which is linked to the 3- to 7-year El 

Niño-Southern Oscillation (ENSO) (Izumo and others 

2010; Kurtzman and Scanlon 2007); the Pacific Decadal 

Oscillation (PDO) with a 20- to 30-year oscillation 

(MantuPachauria 2002); a 20- to 40-year Atlantic 

Multi-decadal Oscillation (AMO); and the Interdecadal 

Pacific Oscillation (IPO) with a 15- to 30-year cycle. As 

climatologists improve our understanding of global circulation patterns, recognized patterns emerge. These 

patterns, referred to as teleconnections (Dixon and 

others 2008; Heyerdahl and others 2008), identify lags 

between ocean and atmospheric measurements and 

subsequent probable weather in various parts of the 

globe. These teleconnections are improving our ability 

to predict fire potential for fire planning purposes. 

Climate, vegetation/fuels, and fire are dynamically coupled (fig. 2-1); any change in one will lead 

to changes in the others (Ryan 1991) with numerous 

inherent feedbacks (Running 2008). There is near 

universal agreement in the science community that 

anthropogenic activities—principally the burning 

of fossil fuels—is changing atmospheric chemistry 

(Pachauri and Reisinger 2007). These changes are 

expected to result in numerous climate-vegetationdisturbance changes with complex and incompletely 

understood interactions (Grulke 2008; Running 2008) 

including increased tree mortality (Allen and others 

2010; McKenzie and others 2008), major shifts in fire 

regimes (Flannigan and others 2009; Krawchuk and 

others 2009a,b; Le Goff and others 2009; Liu and others 2010; Wotton and others 2010), and complex social 

reactions. 

The activities of man are strongly tied to regional 

climatology. Throughout the development of civilization, the people inhabiting the land have responded to 

Figure 2-22—Site and weather factors associated with increasing fire severity and erosion 

potential. Increasing erosion potential increases the risk of damage to cultural resources (from 

Neary and others 2005).
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 55

climate-vegetation shifts by changing land practices 

and migrating as productivity and disturbance patterns 

changed (Carto and others 2009; Dillehay 2009; Gupta 

and others 2006; Tipping and others 2008). Evidence 

suggests that human activities have strongly influenced 

vegetation (Anderson 2005; Betancourt and Van Devender 1981; Bond and others 2005; Moore 1972; Stewart 

1956, 1982; Vale 2002) and likely climate (Ruddiman 

2003, 2007), and populations and burning practices 

have ebbed and flowed (Carcaillet and others 2002, 

Nevle and Bird 2008; Ruddiman 2003, 2007; Ruddiman and Ellis 2009) over the millennia. Humans are 

dynamically coupled to their environment, climate, 

and vegetation. Fire is man’s first tool. As we move 

forward, cultural resource specialists and fire managers will need to plan and adapt to meet the challenge 

to manage fire and protect cultural resources.

Conclusions____________________

Vegetation/fuels, climate, and disturbance processes 

are dynamically coupled. Any change in one has feedbacks to the others. The vegetation/fuels on a site reflect 

the history of climate and terrain influences as well as 

past disturbances. The character of vegetation/fuels 

affects the potential occurrence and severity of future 

fires. Vegetation has developed throughout time with 

fire as a periodic disturbance agent, and fires will continue to occur, likely at an increased rate under a warming climate. The human family has developed through 

time closely coupled to the climate and vegetation. 

Humans have affected vegetation/fuels through use of 

fire as a land management tool. Fires have impacted 

cultures for millennia and fire will continue to impact 

contemporary cultures as well as the remnants of past 

cultures. The challenge is to manage vegetation/fuels 

to minimize damage to contemporary cultures as well 

as the cultural resources left by those who once lived 

on this land. Fires are highly variable both spatially 

and temporally, but the principles that govern fire are 

well known. Application of these principles can help 

to minimize the negative impacts of fuels treatment 

and restoration activities as well as inform post-fire 

inventory, monitoring, stabilization and rehabilitation 

plans. Critical to achieving this is the application of 

good local, site-specific knowledge about the combustion 

and fire environments juxtaposed to cultural resources. 

Currently, the application of fire principles to the 

wise management of cultural resources in fire prone 

environments is largely qualitative. We can bound 

the conditions where problems are more versus less 

likely to occur but we cannot predict them with accuracy because of the wide variation in field conditions. 

Research is needed to improve our ability to predict 

energy release and temperature histories associated 

with burning of various fuel beds. Improved fire science, when coupled with knowledge about the location 

and material characteristics of cultural resources, will 

lead to refined predictions and improved guidance for 

management of cultural resources.
56 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

Appendix 2-1—A Field Guide to 

Fire Severity Terminology and 

Classification ___________________

Fire Characteristics: Fire Intensity Classes

Fires burn throughout a continuum of energy release 

rates (table A-1) (Artsybashev 1983; Rothermel 1991; 

Rowe 1983; Van Wagner 1983). Ground fires burn in 

compact fermentation and humus layers and in organic 

muck and peat soils where they spread predominantly 

by smoldering (glowing) combustion and typically 

burn for hours to weeks. Forward rates of spread 

in ground fires range on the order of several inches 

(decimeters) to yards (meters) per day. Temperatures 

are commonly in excess of 300 °C (572 °F) for several 

hours (Agee 1993; Frandsen and Ryan 1986; Hartford 

and Frandsen 1992; Ryan and Frandsen 1991). The 

conditions necessary for ground fires are organic soil 

horizons greater than about 4 to 6 cm (1.6 to 2.4 in) 

deep and extended drying (Brown and others 1985; 

Miyanishi 2001; Reinhardt and others 1997). Surface 

fires spread by flaming combustion in loose litter, 

woody debris, herbaceous plants and shrubs, and trees 

roughly less than 2 m (6 ft) tall. Under marginal burning conditions, surface fires creep along the ground 

at rates of <1 m/hr with flames less than 0.5 m high 

(table A-1; fig. A-1.1). As fuel, weather, and terrain 

conditions become more favorable for burning, surface 

fires become progressively more active with spread 

rates ranging on the order of tens of meters (yards) to 

kilometers (miles) per day. The duration of surface fires 

is on the order of one to a few minutes (Frandsen and 

Ryan 1986; Hartford and Frandsen 1992; Vasander 

and Lindholm 1985) except where extended residual 

burning occurs beneath logs or in concentrations of 

heavy woody debris. Here flaming combustion may 

last a few hours resulting in substantial soil heating 

(Hartford and Frandsen 1992). However, the surface 

area occupied by long-burning woody fuels is typically small, less than 10 percent and often much less 

(Albini 1976; Albini and Reinhardt 1995; Dyrness 

and Youngberg 1957; Ryan and Noste 1985; Tarrant 

1956). If canopy fuels are plentiful and sufficiently dry, 

surface fires begin to transition into crown fires (Scott 

and Reinhardt 2001; Van Wagner 1977). Crown fires 

burn in the foliage, twigs, and epiphytes of the forest 

or shrub canopy located above the surface fuels. Such 

fires exhibit the maximum energy release rate but 

are typically of short duration, 30 to 80 seconds. Fires 

burn in varying combinations of ground, surface, and 

crown fuels depending on the local conditions at the 

specific time a fire passes a given point. Ground fires 

burn independently from surface and crown fires and 

often occur some hours after passage of the flaming 

front (Artsybashev 1983; Hungerford and others 1995; 

Rowe 1983; Van Wagner 1983). Changes in surface 

and ground fire behavior occur in response to subtle 

changes in the microenvironment, stand structure, 

and weather, leading to a mosaic of fire treatments 

at multiple scales in the ground, surface and, canopy 

strata (Ryan 2002).

Table A-1—Representative ranges for fire behavior characteristics for ground, surface, and crown fires (from Ryan 2002).

Dominant Flame Fireline

combustion Rate of spread length intensity

Fire type phase General description (meters/minutes) (meters) (kW/meter)

Ground Smoldering Creeping 3.3E-4 to 1.6E-2 0.0 <10

Surface Flaming Creeping <3.0E-1 0.1-0.5 1.7E0-5.8E1

Active/Spreading 3.0E-1 to 8.3E0 0.5-1.5 5.8E1-6.3E2

Intense/ Running 8.3E0-5.0E1 1.5 to 3.0 6.3E2 to 2.8E3

Transition Flaming Passive crowning Variablea 3.0 to 10.0 Variablea

Crowning Flaming Active crowning 1.5E1 to 1.0E2 5.0 to 15b 1.0E4 to 1.0E5

Independent crowning Up to ca. 2.0E2 Up to ca.70b Up to ca. 2.7E6

a Rates of spread, flame length and fireline intensity vary widely in transitional fires. In subalpine and boreal fuels it is common for surface fires to 

creep slowly until they encounter conifer branches near the ground, then individual trees or clumps of trees torch sending embers ahead of the 

main fire. These embers start new fires, which creep until they encounter trees, which then torch. In contrast, as surface fires become more intense, 

torching commonly occurs prior to onset of active crowning. SI units to English units conversions: meters/minute x 3.28 = feet/minute, meters x 

3.28 = feet, kW/meter x 0.2891 = BTU/ft.-s.

b Flame lengths are highly variable in crown fires. They commonly range from 0.5 to 2 times canopy height. Fire managers commonly report much 

higher flames but these are difficult to verify or model. Such extreme fires are unlikely to result in additional fire effects within a stand but are commonly associated with large patches of continuous severe burning.
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 57

A number of authors have broken the fire intensity 

continuum into classes typically for purposes of clear 

communication in the context of fire suppression activities (Alexander and Cole 1994; Alexander and de Groot 

1989; Andrews and Rothermel 1982; Rothermel and 

Reinhardt 1983; Roussopoulos and Johnson 1975; Van 

Wagner 1982). For similar reasons it is useful to break 

the fire intensity continuum into classes for documenting and communicating the effects of fire on ecosystem 

components (Ryan 2002) and cultural resources. Table 

A-1 provides a descriptive classification of fire intensity. Figures A-1.1 to A-1.5 provide a visual reference 

for intensity classes. As with all classifications, it is 

important to recognize that there is some subjectivity 

when placing fires into a class, particularly near class 

boundaries. Also, it is important to recognize that 

there can be considerable variation in fire intensity 

across small spatial distances as elements in the fire 

environment change or multiple fire fronts converge. 

The appropriate use of a classification depends on the 

spatial and temporal scale of concern (fig. 2-1). The 

first-order effects on an artifact or feature depend on 

the intensity and depth of burn immediately adjacent 

to the artifact or feature. The first-order effects to a 

site depend more on the modal fire intensity and depth 

of burn in the general area. The second-order effects 

depend not only on the intensity and depth of burn 

at the site (i.e., first-order drivers) but also the modal 

condition of the surrounding landscape (e.g., erosion 

potential) (fig. 2-22).

Figure A-1.1—Fire intensity class 1: Creeping surface fires. Examples include: A. aspen, B. longleaf pine, C. ponderosa pine, 

D. black spruce (note: fires often creep in black spruce forests igniting and torching trees leading to localized higher intensity and 

spotting but the area is burned predominantly by creeping surface fires until the fire environment becomes dryer or windier).

A B
58 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

C

D

Figure A-1.1 (Continued)
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 59

Figure A-1.2—Fire intensity class 2: Active/Spreading Surface Fires. Examples include: A. southern pine – 

oak, B. ponderosa pine, C. jack pine, and D. mixed conifer (Douglas-fir – ponderosa pine). 

A

B
60 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

C

D

Figure A-1.2 (Continued)
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 61

Figure A-1.3—Fire intensity class 3: Intense/Running 

Surface Fires. Examples include: A. lodgepole pine, 

B. mountain big sagebrush, C. Southern pine – oak, and 

D. pocosin – pond pine woodland.

A

B
62 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

C

D

Figure A-1.3 (Continued)
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 63

Figure A-1.4—Fire intensity class 4: Passive Crowning/Torching. Examples include: A. black 

spruce, B. mixed conifer (lodgepole pine, ponderosa pine, Douglas-fir), C. individual lodgepole 

pine tree torching, and D. clump of ponderosa pine and Douglas-fir trees torching.

A

B
64 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

Figure A-1.4 (Continued) C

D
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 65

Figure A-1.5—Fire intensity class 5:Active Crowning. Examples include A. Douglas-fir, 

B. jack pine/black spruce, C. crown-fire in heavy chaparral, and D. black spruce – white spruce.

A

B
66 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

Figure A-1.5 (Continued)

C

D
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 67

Fire Characteristics: Depth of Burn Classes

Numerous authors have used measures of the depth of 

burn into the organic soil horizons or visual observation 

of the degree of charring and consumption of plant materials to define fire severity for interpreting the effects 

of fire on soils, plants, and early succession (Conrad 

and Poulton 1966; DeBano and others 1998; Dyrness 

and Norum 1983; Feller 1998; Johnson 1998; Miller 

1977; Morgan and Neuenschwander 1988; Ohmann 

and Grigal 1981; Rowe 1983; Ryan and Noste 1985; 

Schimmel and Granström 1996;Viereck and Dyrness 

1979; Viereck and Schandelmeier 1980; Zasada and 

others 1983). Depth of burn (DOB) is directly related 

to the duration of burning in woody fuels (Albini and 

Reinhardt 1995; Anderson 1969) and duff (Frandsen 

1991a, b; Johnson and Miyanishi 2001). In heterogeneous fuels, depth of burn can vary substantially over 

short distances (e.g. beneath a shrub or tree canopy vs. 

the inter-canopy area, or beneath a log vs. not) (Ryan 

and Frandsen 1991; Tunstall and others 1976). At the 

spatial scale of a sample plot within a given fire, depth 

of burn can be classified on the basis of visual observation of the degree of fuel consumption and charring 

on residual plant and soil surfaces (Ryan 2002; Ryan 

and Noste 1985).

Ryan and Noste (1985) summarized literature on 

the relationships between depth of burn and the charring of plant materials. An adaptation of their table 2, 

updated to reflect subsequent literature (DeBano and 

others 1998; Feller 1998; Moreno and Oechel 1989; 

Pérez and Moreno 1998) and experience, particularly 

in peat and muck soils, is presented in table A-2. This 

table can be used as a field guide to classifying depth 

of burn on small plots (e.g., quadrats). The larger the 

plot area being described by a single class, the more 

the rating will approach the modal condition for the 

area and the less it will reflect finer scale variation, 

which may be important for understanding the fire 

treatment effects on a particular cultural feature. A 

brief description of depth of burn characteristics is 

provided for clarification of subsequent discussion of 

fire effects:

•	 Unburned: Plant parts are green and unaltered; 

there is no direct effect from heat. The extent of 

unburned patches (mosaics) varies considerably 

within and between burns as the fire environment (fuels, weather, and terrain) varies. Unburned patches are important rufugia for many 

species and are a source of plants and animals 

for recolonization of adjacent burned areas. Soil 

organic matter, structure, and infiltration rate 

are unchanged.

•	 Scorched: Fire did not burn the area, but radiated or convected heat from adjacent burned 

areas caused visible damage. Mosses and leaves 

are brown or yellow but species characteristics 

are still identifiable. Soil heating is negligible. 

Scorched areas occur to varying degrees along the 

edges of more severely burned areas. As it occurs 

on edges, the area within the scorched class is 

typically small (Dyrness and Norum 1983). Soil 

effects are typically similar to those in unburned 

areas. The scorched class may, however, have 

utility in studies of micro-variation of fire effects.

•	 Light: In forests, the surface litter, mosses, and 

herbaceous plants are charred-to-consumed 

but the underlying forest duff or organic soil is 

unaltered. Fine dead twigs up to 0.6 cm (0.2 in) 

are charred or consumed but larger branches remain. Logs may be blackened but are not deeply 

charred except where two logs cross. Leaves 

of understory shrubs and trees are charred or 

consumed but fine twigs and branches remain. 

In non-forest vegetation, plants are similarly 

charred or consumed; herbaceous plant bases 

are not deeply burned and are still identifiable. 

Charring of the mineral soil is negligible. Light 

DOB is associated with short duration fires either 

because of light fuel loads (i.e., low fuel mass per 

unit area), high winds, moist fuels, or a combination of these three factors. Typical forest-floor 

moisture contents associated with light DOB are 

litter (Oi) 15-25 percent and duff (Oe+Oa) greater 

than 125 percent. Impacts on infiltration and 

runoff are typically minimal. Reduction in leaf 

area may decrease interception and evapotranspiration but, as most soil-stored seeds, rhizomes, 

and other underground plant structures survive 

(Miller 2000; Ryan 2000), hydrologic recovery is 

typically rapid. Other names associated with this 

class include low depth of burn and low soil burn 

severity. Figure A-2.1 illustrates light depth of 

burn characteristics.

•	 Moderate: In forests, the surface litter, mosses, 

and herbaceous plants are consumed. Shallow 

duff layers are completely consumed and charring 

occurs in the top 1.2 cm (0.5 in) of the mineral 

soil. Where deep duff layers or organic soils occur, 

they are deeply burned to completely consumed 

resulting in deep char and ash deposits but the 

texture and structure of the underlying mineral 

soil are not visibly altered. In uplands, trees of 

late-successional, shallow-rooted species often 

topple or are left on root pedestals. Fine dead 

twigs are completely consumed, larger branches 

and rotten logs are mostly consumed, and logs 

are deeply charred. Burned-out stump holes and 

rodent middens are common. Leaves of understory shrubs and trees are completely consumed. 
68 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

Table A-2—Visual characteristics of depth of burn in forests, shrublands, and grasslands from observations of ground surface characteristics, 

charring, and fuel consumption for unburned and light (Part A), moderate (Part B) and deep (Part C) classes (modified from Ryan 

and Noste 1985; Ryan 2002; Neary and others 2005).

Vegetation type

Depth of burn Class Forests Shrublands Grasslands

Unburned

Surface characteristics Fire did not burn on the surface.

Fuel characteristics Some vegetation injury may occur from radiated or convected heat resulting in an increase in dead fuel 

mass.

Occurrence: A wide range exists in the percent unburned in natural fuels. Under marginal surface fire conditions, the 

area may be >50%. Under severe burning conditions, <5% is unburned. Commonly, 10-20% of the area 

in slash burns is unburned. Unburned patches provide refugia for flora and fauna.

Light

Surface characteristics Leaf litter charred or consumed. 

Upper duff charred but full depth 

not altered. Gray ash soon 

becomes inconspicuous leaving 

a surface that appears lightly 

charred to black.

Leaf litter charred or consumed, 

but some leaf structure is 

discernable. Leaf mold beneath 

shrubs is scorched to lightly 

charred but not altered over its 

entire depth. Where leaf mold 

is lacking, charring is limited to 

<0.2 cm (0.1 in) into mineral soil. 

Some gray ash may be present 

but soon becomes inconspicuous 

leaving a blackened surface 

beneath shrubs.

Leaf litter is charred or consumed 

but some plant parts are 

discernable. Herbaceous stubble 

extends above the soil surface. 

Some plant parts may still be 

standing, bases not deeply 

burned, and still recognizable 

Surface is black after fire but this 

soon becomes inconspicuous. 

Charring is limited to <0.2 cm 

(0.1) into the soil.

Fuel characteristics Herbaceous plants and foliage 

and fine twigs of woody 

shrubs and trees are charred 

to consumed but twigs and 

branches >0.6cm (0.2 in) remain. 

Coarser branches and woody 

debris are scorched to lightly 

charred but not consumed. Logs 

are scorched to blackened but 

not deeply charred. Rotten wood 

is scorched to partially burned.

Typically, some leaves and twigs 

remain on plants and <60% 

of brush canopy is consumed. 

Foliage is largely consumed 

whereas fine twigs and branches 

>0.5 cm (0.2 in) remain. 

Typically, 50 to 90% of 

herbaceous fuels are consumed 

and much of the remaining fuel is 

charred.

Occurrence Light DOB commonly occurs on 

10-100 percent of the burned 

area in natural fuels and 45-

75% in slash fuels. Low values 

are associated with marginal 

availability of fine fuels whereas 

high values are associated with 

continuous fine fuels or winddriven fires.

In shrublands where fine fuels 

are continuous, light DOB occurs 

on 10-100% depending on fine 

fuel moisture and wind. Where 

fine fuels are limited, burns are 

irregular and spotty at low wind 

speeds. Moderate to high winds 

are required for continuous 

burns.

Burns are spotty to uniform, 

depending on grass continuity. 

Light DOB occurs in grasslands 

when soil moisture is high, fuels 

are sparse, or fires burn under 

high wind. This is the dominant 

type of burning in most upland 

grasslands.

Moderate

Surface characteristics In upland forests, litter is 

consumed and duff deeply 

charred or consumed, mineral 

soil not visibly altered but soil 

organic matter has been partially 

pyrolyzed (charred) to a depth 

>1.0cm (0.4 in). Grey or white 

ash persists until leached by rain 

or redistributed by rain or wind. In 

forests growing on organic soils, 

moderate DOB fires partially 

burn the root-mat but not the 

underlying peat or muck.

In upland shrublands, litter is 

consumed. Where present, 

leaf mold deeply charred or 

consumed. Charring 1 cm (0.4 in) 

into mineral soil, otherwise soil 

not altered. Gray or white ash 

quickly disappears. In shrubscrub wetlands growing on 

organic soils, moderate DOB fires 

partially burn the root-mat but not 

the underlying peat or muck.

In upland grasslands, litter is 

consumed. Charring extends to 

<0.5 cm (0.2 in) into mineral soil, 

otherwise soil not altered. Gray 

or white ash quickly disappears. 

In grasslands, sedge meadows 

and prairies growing on organic 

soils moderate DOB fires partially 

burn the root-mat but not the 

underlying peat or muck.
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 69

Vegetation type

Depth of burn Class Forests Shrublands Grasslands

Fuel characteristics Herbaceous plants, low woody 

shrubs, foliage and woody 

debris <2.5 cm (1 in) diameter 

consumed. Branch-wood 2.5 to 

7.5 cm (1-3 in) 90+ percent 

consumed. Skeletons of larger 

shrubs persist. Logs are deeply 

charred. Shallow-rooted, late 

successional trees and woody 

shrubs typically topple or are left 

on pedestals . Burned-out stump 

holes are common.

Herbaceous plants are consumed 

to the ground-line. Foliage and 

branches of shrubs are mostly 

consumed. Stems <1 cm (0.4 in) 

diameter are mostly consumed. 

Stems >1 cm (0.4 in) mostly 

remain.

Herbaceous plants are consumed 

to the ground-line.

Occurrence Moderate DOB occurs on 

0-100% of natural burned areas 

and typically 10-75% on slash 

burns. High variability is due to 

variability in distributions of duff 

depth and woody debris.

Moderate DOB varies with shrub 

cover, age, and dryness. It 

typically occurs beneath larger 

shrubs and increases with shrub 

cover. Typically, burns are more 

uniform than in light DOB fires.

Moderate DOB tends to occur 

when soil moisture is low and 

fuels are continuous. Then 

burns tend to be uniform. In 

discontinuous fuels high winds 

are required for high coverage in 

moderate DOB. 

Deep

Surface characteristics In forests growing on mineral soil, 

the litter and duff are completely 

consumed. The top layer of 

mineral soil visibly altered. 

Surface mineral soil structure 

and texture are altered and soil 

is oxidized (reddish to yellow 

depending on parent material). 

Below oxidized zone, >1 cm 

(0.4 cm) 2of mineral soil appears 

black due to charred or deposited 

organic material. Fusion of soil 

may occur under heavy woody 

fuel concentrations. In forests 

growing on organic soils, deep 

DOB fires burn the root-mat and 

the underlying peat or muck to 

depths that vary with the water 

table. 

In shrublands growing on mineral 

soil, the litter is completely 

consumed leaving a fluffy 

white ash surface that soon 

disappears. Organic matter is 

consumed to depths of 2-3 cm 

(0.8-1.2 in). Colloidal structure of 

surface mineral soil is altered. In 

shrub-scrub wetlands growing on 

organic soils deep DOB fires burn 

the root-mat and the underlying 

peat or muck to depths that vary 

with the water table.

In grasslands growing on mineral 

soil, the litter is completely 

consumed leaving a fluffy 

white ash surface that soon 

disappears. Charring to depth of 

1 cm (0.4 in) in mineral soil. Soil 

structure is slightly altered. In 

grasslands growing on organic 

soils, deep DOB fires burn the 

root-mat and the underlying peat 

or muck to depths that vary with 

the water table.

Fuel characteristics In uplands, twigs and small 

branches are completely 

consumed. Few large, deeply 

charred branches remain. 

Sound logs are deeply charred 

and rotten logs are completely 

consumed. In wetlands twigs, 

branches, and stems not burned 

in the surface fire may remain 

even after subsequent passage 

of a ground fire.

In uplands, twigs and small 

branches are completely 

consumed. Large branches and 

stems are mostly consumed. In 

wetlands twigs, branches, and 

stems not burned in the surface 

fire may remain even after 

subsequent passage of a ground 

fire.

All above ground fuel is 

consumed to charcoal and ash.

Table A-2—Continued
70 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

A

B

Figure A-2.1—Light depth of burn. A. sagebrush-grass (mixture of light depth-of-burn (DOB) beneath sagebrush and unburned 

grass), Beaverhead-Deerlodge National Forest, Montana; B. ninebark mountain shrub community (mixture of light with some 

moderate under denser shrubs), Lolo National Forest, Montana; C. pocosin – pond pine woodland, Dare County Bombing Range, 

North Carolina; D. feather moss, Tetlan National Wildlife Refuge, Alaska (transitions to moderate DOB on left); E. glacier lilies 

growing from just beneath lightly charred lodgepole pine duff, Yellowstone National Park, Wyoming (lethal heat penetration into soil 

<5 mm (0.2 in.) as evidenced by tissue regrowth); F. sagebrush – grass, Bridger-Teton National Forest, Wyoming; G. ponderosa 

pine (note litter charred but underlying fermentation uncharred; H. following crown fire in jack pine-black spruce in Northwest Territories, Canada (note logs not charred on bottom, surface needles blackened but not consumed); I. light logging slash, Mt. Hood 

National Forest, Oregon (note logs and surface litter blackened but not deeply charred, much fine woody debris was unconsumed).
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 71

Figure A-2.1 (Continued)

C

D
72 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

Figure A-2.1 (Continued)

E

F
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 73

Figure A-2.1 (Continued)

G

H
74 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

Figure A-2.1 (Continued)

I

Fine twigs and branches of shrubs are mostly consumed (this effect decreases with height above the 

ground), and only the larger stems remain. Shrub 

stems frequently burn off at the base during the 

ground fire phase leaving residual aerial stems 

that were not consumed in the flaming phase 

lying on the ground. In non-forest vegetation, 

plants are similarly consumed, herbaceous plant 

bases are deeply burned and unidentifiable. In 

shrublands, average char-depth of the mineral soil 

is on the order of less than 1 cm (0.4 in) but soil 

texture and structure are not noticeably altered. 

Charring may extend 2 to 3 cm (0.8 to 1.2 in) 

beneath shrubs where deep litter and duff were 

consumed. Typical forest-floor moisture contents 

associated with moderate DOB are litter (Oi) 10 to 

20 percent and duff (Oe+Oa) less than 75 percent. 

The depth at which plant tissues are killed and 

hydrophobic layers are formed increases with 

the depth of the organic horizon, or log diameter, 

consumed. Ash depth also increases with depth of 

duff consumed. Figure A-2.2 illustrates moderate 

depth of burn characteristics.

•	 Deep: In forests growing on mineral soil, the 

surface litter, mosses, herbaceous plants, shrubs, 

and woody branches are completely consumed. 

Sound logs are consumed or deeply charred. Rotten logs and stumps are consumed. The top layer 

of the mineral soil is visibly oxidized, reddish 

to yellow. Surface soil texture is altered and, in 

extreme cases, fusion of particles occurs. A black 

band of charred organic matter 1 to 2 cm (0.4 to 

0.8 in) thick occurs at variable depths below the 

surface. The depth of this band increases with the 

duration of extreme heating. The temperatures 

associated with oxidized mineral soil are typical 

of those associated with flaming >500 °C (>932 

°F) rather than smoldering <500 °C (<932 °F). 

Thus, deep depth of burn typically only occurs 

where woody fuels burn for extended duration 

such as beneath individual logs or concentrations 

of woody debris, and in harvester ant mounds and 

litter-filled burned-out stump holes. Moisture 

content of logs >3 in (7.6 cm) diameter is typically 

<10 percent. Representative forest-floor moisture 

contents associated with deep depth of burn are 

litter (Oi) less than 15 percent and duff (Oe+Oa) 

less than 30 percent. In areas with deep organic 

soils, deep depth-of-burn occurs when ground 

fires consume the root-mat or burn beneath the 

root-mat. Trees often topple in the direction 

from which the smoldering fire front approached 

(Artsybashev 1983; Hungerford and others 1995; 

Wein 1983). Other names associated with this 

class include high depth of burn, severe burn, 

and high soil burn severity. We prefer the term 

“deep” as it better reflects the physical process 

of heat penetration into the soil. Figure A-2.3 

illustrates deep depth of burn classes.
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 75

The moderate depth of burn class is a broad class. 

Some investigators have chosen to divide the class into 

two classes (c.f. Feller 1998). In practice we have found 

it difficult to do so on the basis of post-hoc examination 

of the mineral soil alone, but rely on the preponderance of the evidence, which includes reconstructing 

the prefire vegetative structure. The depth-of-burn 

characteristics are appropriate for quadrat-level descriptions. At higher spatial scales, logic needs to be 

developed for defining fire severity on the basis of the 

distribution of depth of burn classes (c.f. DeBano and 

others 1998; Ryan and Noste 1985).

Fire Severity Matrix

Ryan and Noste (1985) combined fire intensity 

classes with depth of burn (char) classes to develop 

a two-dimensional matrix approach to defining fire 

severity. The basis for these characteristics is that 

fire-intensity classes qualify the relative energy release rate for a fire, whereas depth-of-burn classes 

qualify the relative duration of burning. Their concept 

focuses on the ecological work performed by fire both 

above ground and below ground. The matrix provides 

an approach to classifying the level of fire treatment 

or severity for ecological studies at the scale of the 

individual and the community. The approach has 

been used to interpret differences in plant survival 

and regeneration (Smith and Fischer 1997; Willard 

and others 1995) and to field-validate satellite-based 

maps of burned areas (White and others 1996). The 

matrix has been used to develop a conceptual model 

of post-fire regeneration potential (Ryan 2002) and 

potential impacts on soils and watersheds (Neary and 

others 2005). The Ryan and Noste (1985) conceptual 

model of fire severity can also be used and as a means 

of documenting the level of fire treatment in prescribed 

fires and wildfires for the purposes of evaluating the 

effects of fire on cultural resources (table A-3). Other 

investigators have developed similar classifications 

(c.f., DeBano and others 1998; Jane and others 2009) 

with somewhat different class definitions. However, 

they all employ similar logic in that the rate of organic 

matter consumption (represented by rate of energy 

release in fire intensity classes) and the magnitude 

of organic matter consumption (represented in depth 

of burn classes) affect numerous ecosystem states and 

processes.

Figure A-2.2—Moderate depth of burn. A. complete duff consumption aspen-mixed conifer Bridger-Teton National Forest, 

Wyoming; B. complete duff consumption aspen, Caribou National Forest, Idaho; C. complete duff consumption beneath white ash, 

light DOB in blackened areas, Douglas-fir, Lubrecht Experimental Forest, Montana; D. Sagebrush – grass Yellowstone National Park, 

Wyoming (moderate DOB mid ground, elsewhere lite DOB and unburned); E-F. following a crown-fire in jack pine – black spruce 

Northwest Territories, Canada (note litter consumed to white ash but underlying fermentation and humus not altered (light DOB) 

except where residual burning of crossed logs (E) resulted in moderate DOB (F) where duff and logs were completely consumed 

at their intersection; G. moderate depth of burn on an extremely fragile high elevation site (obsidian-derived soil, no vascular plants 

survived or colonized 1 year after 1988 North Fork Fire, a crown-fire/moderate depth-of-burn fire, Moose Creek Research Natural 

Area, Targee, National Forest, Idaho); H. Douglas-fir duff mostly consumed but underlying mineral soil not visibly altered and logs 

charred, Willamette National Forest, Oregon. 

A
76 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

Figure A-2.2 (Continued)

B

C
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 77

Figure A-2.2 (Continued)

D

E
78 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

Figure A-2.2 (Continued)

G

F
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 79

Figure A-2.2 (Continued)

A

Figure A-2.3—Deep depth of burn class. A. charred, black layer beneath oxidized soil and ash; B. charred, black layer 

beneath oxidized soil and ash plus deeply charred log; C. charred, black layer beneath oxidized soil; D. 20 cm (8 in.) duff 

pin (nail) documented duff consumption next to a partially rotten log that burned out. Deep ash deposits are occasionally 

mistaken for oxidized mineral soil. Ash is fine and powdery when dry and slick and greasy when wet whereas oxidized 

soil retains pebbles and granularity. The black zone corresponds roughly with the depth at which 250 °C (482 °F) was 

maintained in the soil profile. E. deeply burned soil and western larch stem resulting from burnout of heavy concentration 

of coarse woody debris, Lolo, National Forest, Montana; F. reburned forest (note: second fire consumed logs created by 

first fire leading to deep DOB (light color) whereas intervening areas had little residual fuel and less soil heating (dark 

color); G. ponderosa pine stump-hole and log burn-out (note: localized deep DOB where stump and log burned out, 

otherwise light DOB and unburned except moderate DOB where duff mounds burned-out beneath old pine (not shown). 

H
80 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

Figure A-2.3 (Continued)

B

C
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 81

Figure A-2.3 (Continued)

D

E
82 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

Figure A-2.3 (Continued)

F

G
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 83

Table A-3—Fire severity matrix for evaluating and documenting the effects of fire on cultural resources. Fire intensity classes relate 

to the heat pulse up and the potential to damage above ground cultural resources (artifacts) and those exposed on 

the pre-fire surface of the ground. Depth of burn classes relate to the heat pulse down and the potential to damage 

cultural resources in the soil.a

Fire severity matrix for cultural resources

Depth of burn class

Fire intensity 

class Unburned Light Moderate Deep

Crowning Limited to transition 

zone between 

burned and 

unburned. Above 

ground resources 

may be damaged 

by radiant heat or 

combustion deposits 

(tar, soot, etc.).

Common occurrence in 

early-season fires when 

humus is wet (>120%), 

in undisturbed wetlands 

with high water table, and 

in areas with exposed 

mineral soil. Above-ground 

and surface CR exposed 

to high temperatures 

for short duration and 

combustion deposits. 

Damage restricted to 

exposed CR and top 1 cm 

(0.4 in) in soil.

Common occurrence in 

forests with moderate 

duff depths (5 to 10 cm 

[2-3.9 in]) and duff 

moisture <50%. Aboveground CR exposed to 

high temperatures for short 

duration and combustion 

deposits. Severe damage 

is common to all exposed 

CR and artifacts in top 

5 cm (2 in) of the ground.

Common in forests 

with deep duff (>10cm 

[3.9 in]) or heavy CWD. 

High energy release 

rate and long residence 

time associated with 

deep depth of burn 

leads to maximum 

potential damage to 

both above and below 

ground CR. Available fuel 

approximately equals 

total fuel. Damage may 

extend to artifacts in top 

10 cm (3.9 in) of mineral 

soil. Loss of canopy 

interception, deep soil 

heating, and heavy ash 

increase potential for postfire erosion.

Torching See above See above. The primary 

distinction is in the spatial 

scale uniformity of heating 

to exposed CR. 

See above. The primary 

distinction is in the spatial 

scale uniformity of heating 

to exposed CR.

See above. The primary 

distinction is in the spatial 

scale uniformity of heating 

to exposed CR.

Intense 

running 

surface fire

See above. 

Damaging distance 

from burned edge 

is less due to lower 

intensity.

Common in fire 

environments where heavy 

surface fuel loadings burn 

under low humidity and 

moderate to strong winds 

and when duff is shallow 

(<5 cm [2 in]) or moist 

(>120%) and where overstory stratum is sparse or 

vertical fuel continuity is 

poor due to high crown 

base height. Effect of CR 

similar to above except 

that height of thermal 

damage restricted to < 5 

meters (16 feet) above 

ground. Damage restricted 

to exposed CR and top 

1 cm in soil.

Common in fire 

environments where heavy 

surface fuel loadings 

burn under low humidity 

and moderate to strong 

winds and where duff is 

moderately deep (5 to 

10 cm [2-3.9 in]) and dry 

(duff moisture <50 %). 

Often occurs in head-fires 

and on the flanks of crown 

fires. Damage common to 

exposed CR <5 m (16 ft) 

above the ground and 

artifacts in top 5 cm of 

mineral soil.

Common in fire 

environments where heavy 

surface fuel loadings burn 

under low humidity and 

moderate to strong winds 

and where duff is deep 

(>10 cm [3.9 in]) and dry 

(duff moisture <80 %, once 

ignited peat soil and deep 

organic soils may burn up 

to 120% moisture content), 

and beneath rotten logs. 

Often occurs in head-fires 

and on the flanks of crown 

fires. Damage common 

to exposed CR <5 m 

(16 ft) above the ground 

and artifacts in top 10 cm 

(3.9 in) of mineral soil.
84 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

Fire severity matrix for cultural resources

Depth of burn class

Fire intensity 

class Unburned Light Moderate Deep

Actively 

spreading 

surface fire

Edge effect 

intermediate 

between above and 

below

Common in numerous 

fire environments where 

surface fuels support 

active burning. Effects on 

CR intermediate to above 

and below. Less thermal 

effects than above, residue 

deposits possible to 

exposed CR at the surface 

or <4 meters (13 feet). 

Thermal damage restricted 

to exposed CR near the 

surface (<2 meters [6.5 

feet] above ground) and 

top 1 cm (0.4 in) in soil.

Common in numerous 

fire environments where 

surface fuels support 

active burning. Effects on 

CR intermediate to above 

and below. Less thermal 

effects than above, residue 

deposits possible to 

exposed CR at the surface 

or <4 meters (13 feet). 

Thermal damage restricted 

to exposed CR near the 

surface (<2 meters [6 feet] 

above ground) and top 5 

cm (2 in) in soil.

Common in numerous 

fire environments where 

surface fuels support 

active burning and duff is 

deep (5-to-10 cm deep 

(>10 cm [3.9 in]) and 

moderately dry (<80% 

once ignited peat soil 

and deep organic soils 

may burn up to 120% 

moisture content), and 

beneath rotten logs. 

Thermal damage common 

to exposed CR near the 

surface (<2meters [6 

feet] above ground) and 

artifacts in top 10 cm (3.9 

in) of mineral soil.

Creeping 

surface fire

Edge effect on 

exposed surface 

artifacts limited to a 

few millimeters. 

Common under marginal 

burning conditions due to 

sparse fine fuels or high 

humidity, and in backing 

fires. Thermal damage 

restricted to exposed CR 

near the surface and top 1 

cm in soil.

Common under marginal 

burning conditions due 

to sparse fine fuels or 

high humidity, and in 

backing fires where duff is 

intermediate (5-to 10 cm 

deep [2-3.9 in]) and dry 

(<50%). Thermal damage 

common to exposed CR 

near the surface and 

artifacts in top 5 cm (2 in) 

of soil.

Common under marginal 

burning conditions due to 

sparse fine fuels or high 

humidity, and in backing 

fires where duff is >10 

cm (3.9 in) deep and 

moderately dry (<80%), 

and beneath rotten logs. 

Thermal damage common 

to exposed CR near the 

surface and artifacts in top 

10 cm of mineral soil.

Unburned No direct effect of 

fire on CR at the 

fine scale. Isolates 

unaffected. The burn 

mosaic may alter the 

visual character and 

experience of the 

cultural landscape

NA NA NA

a

 Typically, the burn- no-burn boundary is mineral soil surface in upland forests, woodlands, shrublands, and grasslands. In wetlands and temperate old-growth forests 

with deep organic soils, fires may burn vertically until they reach a moisture limit around 100% on an oven dry basis.

Table A-3—Continued
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 85

Chapter 3: 

Fire Effects on Prehistoric Ceramics

Trisha Rude

Anne Trinkle Jones

In North America, prehistoric pottery is primarily 

earthenware (a porous ceramic, fired at a relatively 

low temperature). It is not glass-like or dense like 

other kinds of pottery such as stoneware and porcelain (see chapter 6). 

Instead of looking at whole vessels (fig. 3-1), archaeologists often examine broken pieces of pottery called 

sherds (fig. 3-2) to gain information about people who 

lived in the past (Colton 1953; Rye 1981; Shepard 

1956). Fire can affect prehistoric ceramics in a variety 

of ways. Archaeologists are primarily concerned with 

fire’s effects on the information value of these artifacts. Such damages include physical degradations 

such as spalling and crumbling, as well as changes 

to surface color and design (fig. 3-3). These effects 

can hamper identification of pottery types. Fire 

may also affect certain laboratory analyses, such as 

petrography, and dating by thermoluminescence.

The extent to which sherds are affected by heat 

and flame depends on fire intensity, duration, and 

a number of environmental factors. The materials 

from which ceramics are created, the ways in which 

clay vessels are produced, and the uses to which they 

are put also affect the reaction of pottery to fire. The 

depositional environment of discarded pottery plays 

a final important role in influencing fire’s impact. 

Figure 3-1—Complete, intact pitchers such as this are typically found in museum settings or archaeological excavations and unlikely to be exposed at the surface and subject 

to damage from fire.
86 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

Most research on fire effects on ceramics focuses 

on the visual appearance of potsherds. Less work has 

been done to determine the range of fire effects on 

analytical properties. Most studies are conducted 

in the aftermath of wildfires without the benefit 

of pre-burn comparative data. Still, work that has 

been done suggests that fire can affect the appearance of potsherds without preventing identification. 

Fire effects on various technical analyses are not well 

understood. More controlled and comparative research 

is needed to predict fire effects on the identification 

and analysis of various earthenware ceramics.

Materials and Mechanics of Pottery 

Construction ___________________

To understand the effects fire can have on pottery, 

one must consider how pottery is made, what material 

it is made from, how it is used, and in what environment it is eventually deposited. Fire may differently 

affect pottery that is made from various clay types or 

built and fired by different methods. Certain kinds of 

decorative paint may be more vulnerable to fire than 

others. Ceramic vessels used for cooking may be differently affected than other kinds of pottery. The soil 

conditions to which discarded potsherds are exposed 

can influence potential fire effects.

Figure 3-2—Typical pottery sherds that might be found in 

surface deposits and subject to thermal alteration, sootting, or 

mechanical damage during fire or fire management activities.

Figure 3-3—Pottery sherds including a ladle handle (above ruler) and bowl 

fragments found at the surface following the 2002 Long Mesa fire, Mesa Verde 

National Park, Colorado (Buenger 2003).
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 87

Pottery as Raw Material

The primary raw material of pottery is clay (sediments eroded from silicate rocks). Clays can be collected as sedimentary rock (shale or mudstone) or loose 

sediment. Both types of clay are commonly ground 

into a fine powder before being used for pottery. They 

can exist in situ, in the area of their parent rock, and 

called primary clays (Rice 1987). Clays can also exist 

ex situ, carried by wind or water and redeposited in 

areas such as riverbeds. These clays are called secondary or transported clays (Rice 1987). Clay particles 

also can be re-cemented to form sedimentary rocks. 

Shales and mudstones are examples of sedimentary 

rocks that may contain a percentage of re-cemented 

clay sediments. 

Clay particles are extremely small in size, generally 

less than two microns in diameter. Most clays have 

specific mineral structures, categorized as hydrous 

aluminum silicates. The mineralogy and small particle size of clays make them workable (Rice 1987). 

This means that, when mixed with water, clays can 

be formed to a shape that holds upon drying. 

Non-clay materials such as sand, silt, organic matter, 

and mineral impurities are generally found mixed with 

clay sediments. Organic materials are more common 

in transported clays than in primary clays. Primary 

clays may contain more coarse-grained fragments of 

the parent rock (Rice 1987). A potter may sieve or sort 

through the clay collected to remove coarse-grained 

sands and gravel, as well as visible organic matter. 

Fine-grained sands, silts, organics, and mineral inclusions, however, generally remain with the clay used 

for pottery production. These can benefit the potterymaking process by preventing clays from becoming 

“sticky” and difficult to work. These non-clay inclusions 

can also decrease shrinkage upon drying, increase the 

strength of a vessel, and provide pottery with color. 

Prehistoric potters added sand, ground rock, shell, 

or crushed pottery sherds to the clay they used. These 

additives, known as “temper,” had the same benefits 

as naturally occurring non-clay inclusions: they minimized stickiness, increased strength, and decreased 

shrinkage. Some clays (self-tempered clays) contained 

enough non-clay inclusions that pottery makers did not 

need to add temper. Variations in clay raw material, 

natural inclusions, and the make-up of added temper 

are important factors in understanding pottery’s reaction to heat and open flame. 

Vessel Formation and Preparation for 

Firing

Shepard (1956: appendix E) discusses prehistoric 

methods of vessel formation in North America. She 

writes that potters shaped vessels by modeling, molding, piece building, or a combination of techniques. 

Potter’s wheels were not used prehistorically. Modeled 

pottery could be crafted from a single lump of clay or 

shaped from one thick clay ring. Molded pottery was 

formed by shaping clay around a certain form, such as 

an already fired vessel. Piece-built pottery, on the other 

hand, was made by adding together coils or patches of 

clay (fig. 3-4). Such vessels could be smoothed with a 

stone or a paddle-and-anvil tool. Coil-built pots could 

be “corrugated,” their coils left unsmoothed. Vesselforming techniques could be combined in a number 

of ways. For example, a vessel’s base could be molded 

while its walls were formed with coils. The way in 

which pottery was made may affect how it is altered 

by fire. For example, fire sometimes separates the coils 

in corrugated pottery sherds (Lissoway and Propper 

1990; Switzer 1974).

The shape and thickness of vessels varied somewhat 

according to the potter’s intended use. Vessels used for 

Figure 3-4—Schematic illustrating the making of a clay pot from ribbons.
88 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

cooking needed to survive continual exposure to small 

cooking fires. Thin-walled vessels were more suited to 

the task; they could withstand thermal shock, a stress 

caused by heating and cooling (Rice 1987). When exposed to flame, the outer walls of a pot would heat more 

quickly than the inner walls and expand at a faster 

rate. In thin walled vessels, differential expansion was 

minimal and damage less likely to occur. Thin-walled 

vessels also conducted heat well and allowed food to 

be cooked more quickly. Vessels exclusively used for 

storage, however, did not need to withstand continual 

thermal shock and could be made thicker. Since sherds 

of differing thickness react differently to thermal shock, 

fire may affect sherds from storage vessels differently 

than sherds from cooking pot ceramics.

Variation in wall thickness may also occur within a 

single vessel. This is particularly true of paddle-andanvil shaped pottery. Since thermal shock is caused by 

differential rates of heating and cooling, paddle-andanvil shaped vessels may be particularly vulnerable 

to fire.

Variables other than wall thickness may affect pottery’s vulnerability to fire. Culinary sherds, often more 

coarsely tempered than other ceramics, may become 

friable when exposed to flame (Pilles 1984). 

Decoration

Pottery can be decorated before or after firing with 

the use of organic or mineral paint. Organic or carbonbased paints are generally derived from plant extracts, 

while mineral paints include iron oxides, manganese 

ores and some clay minerals (Shepard 1956). Pottery 

can also be intentionally smudged black with exposure 

to smoke. Before firing, a slip (a coating made from a 

thin solution of clay and water) can also be added to 

the surface of a vessel. Pieces of clay can be attached 

to pottery as appliqué designs or to create legs and 

handles. Glaze paints (substances that vitrify when 

fired and turn to glass) were also used for decoration 

prehistorically. Glazes, however, were not used as 

sealants to coat vessels. 

Fire’s impact on pottery decoration is of concern to 

archaeologists who use decorative design as a criterion 

for identifying potsherds. This impact of fire can vary 

according to the way in which clay vessels have been 

decorated. 

Clay Firing

Ceramics are the products of heating clay in an open 

fire, firing pit, or kiln. By looking at changes that occur to clay during heating, one can infer what changes 

may later occur to pottery exposed to fire (table 3-1). 

The way in which clay is fired determines the atmosphere, temperature, and duration of heating to 

which pottery is subjected. In open firing (fig. 3-5), the 

amount of available oxygen will fluctuate; temperature 

will rise quickly and fall quickly. The heating atmosphere and temperature of pottery fired in a pit are 

more constant, and firing lasts longer than it does in 

open flame. Kilns, not as frequently used in prehistoric 

North America, provide the steadiest, hottest, and 

longest lasting firing conditions. 

The type of fuel used for firing also influences the 

firing environment. Grass, for example, burns more 

quickly than most types of wood; wood, in turn, burns 

faster than coal. Slow-burning fuels may hold high 

temperatures for longer time periods, allowing clay to 

react more fully to heating conditions. Depending on 

firing methods and fuels used, firing can last as little 

as an hour or as long as a week. 

The composition of clay material and the proportion 

of clay to additives, also influence clay’s reaction to 

firing. In extreme circumstances, clay cannot survive 

firing; it will crack, bloat, or spall. This may be caused 

by a flaw in the clay material, vessel form, or firing 

atmosphere. Changes to pottery, including damaging 

effects, occur at certain temperatures, dependant on 

clay composition, firing environment, and duration of 

heat.

One of the first changes to pottery during intentional 

firing is water evaporation, often referred to as water smoking. When heated to 100 °C (212 °F), water 

loosely bound to the surface of clay particles begins 

to evaporate. Between 300 and 800 °C (572-1472 °F), 

depending on clay type, water chemically bound to 

clay molecules also evaporates. If water loss occurs too 

quickly, the force of water that escapes as steam may 

cause a vessel to crack or explode. Sometimes potters 

preheat their vessels to avoid rapid water loss during 

open firing (Rye 1981).

The next stage in the firing process is the burning 

off, or oxidation, of organic matter in the clay material. This reaction, in which carbon joins with oxygen 

to form carbon dioxide and carbon monoxide gas, 

begins to occur between 200 and 350 °C (392-662 °F). 

The length of time it takes for all organic material to 

oxidize depends on the temperature, the amount of 

carbon present, and the availability of oxygen in the 

firing atmosphere. Often some carbon is left unoxidized 

by firing. The dark core, known to some archaeologists 

as a “carbon streak,” is visible in cross-sections of 

some pottery sherds. It testifies to incomplete carbon 

oxidation during intentional firing, although it may 

be produced by later wildfires (Ryan, personal communication, 4/4/2001). 

Between 400 and 850 °C (752-1562 °F), clay minerals 

are heated nearly to their melting point. During this 

stage of firing, water chemically bound to clay is lost 

and clay particles ionically adhere to each other. This 

irreversible process of adhesion, known as sintering, 

causes pottery to become hard and dense. It is the 
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 89

Table 3-1—Stages of firing and other changes due to heating.

Temp (°C) Temp (°F) Changes to ceramics

100-200 212-392 Evaporation of loosely bound water.a

200-350 392-662 Decomposition of organics.b

300-800 572-1472 Water chemically bound to clay molecules evaporates. c

350 662 Carbon paint burns off (Bennett and Kunzmann 1985).

400-850 752-1562 Clay minerals undergo sintering.a

500 932 Organic matter oxidizes.c

500-800 932-1472 Minimum temperature for effective firing of pottery 

(varies according to clay type).a

573 1063.4 Molecular change: Alpha-beta inversion of quartz, 

causing quartz inclusions to expand slightly; 

couldtheoretically cause structural damage.c

800 1472 Most iron minerals will oxidize by the time this 

temperature is reached.d

750-870 1382-1598 CaCO3 (calcium carbonate) dissociates to form CO2 gas 

(carbon dioxide) and CaO (calcium oxide). CaO bonds 

with water to form Ca(OH)2 (quicklime).a,c

870 1598 Mineralogical change: Beta quartz becomes tridymite, a 

very slow reaction that rarely occurs in clay firing.c

900-1100 1652-2012 Clay begins to vitrify, melting and forming glass. This 

process is often aided by fluxing agents. Vitrification 

creates loss of pore space and a glassy texture. a,c

Above 1200 Above 2192 Gases formed during vitrification (without fluxing agents) 

will restore pore space and may cause bloating.c

a

 Rye (1981)

b Ryan (2001)

c

 Rice (1987)

d Shepard (1956)

Figure 3-5—Firing of a clay pot over an open fire.
90 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

most essential reaction for making pottery; without 

it, clay can regain water and lose its shape. The exact 

temperature required for sintering to occur varies according to clay type and duration of firing.

If firing temperature exceeds 900 °C (1652 °F), clay 

minerals can melt to form glass. Glass is a material 

with no molecular structure, formed from a molten 

solid. The process in which clay melts and becomes 

glass is known as vitrification; it is often aided by 

inclusions that lower clay’s melting point (Rice 1987). 

Such inclusions, known as fluxing agents, are present 

in most raw clays and include alkaline earths, alkalis, 

and ferrous oxides (Shepard 1956). With vitrification, 

ceramics lose their porosity, shrink, and obtain a glasslike texture. As temperatures increase above clay’s 

melting point, new minerals crystallize from molten 

clay (Rice 1987). If very high temperatures are reached, 

vitrified pottery can appear bloated or warped, with a 

“sponge-like” texture and blistered surface (Rye 1981). 

Firing Effects on Non-Clay 

Inclusions______________________

Firing changes non-clay particles in ceramic material. These may be naturally occurring inclusions in 

clay raw material, additives, or temper for example. 

Common inclusions consist of quartz (often sand temper), calcium carbonate (CaCO3, often crushed shell or 

limestone), iron (generally naturally occurring), and 

crushed pottery sherds (as temper).

At about 573 °C (1053.4 °F), quartz undergoes a 

change in molecular structure that causes it to expand 

by 2 percent volume (Rice 1987; Shepard 1956). This 

alteration is known as the inversion from alpha to beta 

quartz. Rice (1987) writes that quartz expansion does 

not often cause damage to pottery because it occurs 

simultaneously with water loss, which creates more 

pore space. Damage is more likely to occur during later 

cooling when beta quartz reverts to its original form. 

As this happens, quartz particles sometimes shatter 

and cause tiny cracks within the pottery. These small 

cracks decrease the strength of the fired vessel, making 

it easier to break. 

The temperature required for quartz inversion 

(573 °C, 1063 °F) is certainly within the range 

obtained by prehistoric firing. However, Shepard 

(1956) writes that she never observed shattered 

quartz grains in her petrographic analyses of 

North American pottery sherds. She suggests that 

temperatures were not maintained long enough for 

the reaction to occur or that the softness of heated 

clay prevented quartz from shattering. Wildfires 

may subject pottery sherds to this temperature or 

higher, but the duration will most likely be of very 

short duration (Ryan, personal communication, 

4/4/2001). Thus, wildfires may cause more damage 

to pottery sherds than prehistoric firing of vessels, 

but it seems unlikely due to the short duration. This 

may warrant some additional research.

Calcium carbonate (CaCO3), in the form of crushed 

shell or limestone, is sometimes added to clay as temper. This mineral also naturally occurs in some clay 

deposits. At temperatures between 750 and 870 °C 

(1382-1598 °F), calcium carbonate disassociates to 

form carbon dioxide gas (CO2) and calcium oxide 

(CaO). Once this reaction occurs, CaO, also known 

as lime, bonds with water to form calcium hydroxide 

(Ca(OH)2), a large crystal known as quicklime. The 

formation of quicklime may cause miniature spalling 

in the walls of a vessel (Rye 1981).

Iron occurs naturally in many types of clay. At about 

600 °C (1112 °F), iron may react with oxygen to form 

new compounds that make pottery red in color. This 

reaction, called oxidation, occurs only when sufficient 

oxygen is available in the firing environment. At about 

900 °C (1652 °F), if oxygen is not significantly present, 

iron takes on a reduced form, turning black or gray 

(Rye 1981). Post-firing exposure to heat in the absence 

of oxygen may cause iron reduction in pottery sherds. 

However, this temperature is rarely reached during 

wildfire, except under certain conditions (for example, 

the burn-out of a stump) (Ryan, personal communication, 4/4/2001). Post-firing exposure to heat in the 

presence of oxygen may cause additional oxidation 

and reddening of ceramics.

Pottery Use and Post-Depositional Changes

Once a vessel survived firing, it could be used to 

meet a variety of needs. Utility vessels could be used 

for cooking food, storing water, keeping dry goods, or 

boiling pigment for dye. Ceramic bowls could be used 

as dishes, and clay ladles used for serving food. The 

specific use of pottery may have changed its appearance. Painted decorations could fade with continual 

use. Storage pots accrued traces of the materials they 

held. Vessels used for cooking accumulated carbon on 

their exterior surface and possibly carbonized food 

remains within their interiors (Rye 1981). 

Carbonization caused by cooking fires resembles intentional smudging for decoration and post-depositional 

smudging caused by wildfires and prescription burns. 

Decorative smudging may only be distinguished from 

other types of smudging if striations caused by the 

use of a polishing stone are present on top of the layer 

of carbon. Smudging caused by cooking fires may be 

indistinguishable from smudging caused by wildfires 

or prescription burns. 

After pottery is used and discarded, it is exposed to a 

variety of factors that cause change (figs. 3-6, 3-7). These 

post-depositional changes include the accumulation 
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 91

Figure 3-6—Corrugated vessel illustrating natural weathering and cracking.

Figure 3-7—Neck of a broken vessel naturally weathered.

of calcium carbonate (CaCO3) on the surface of potsherds; whether or not CaCO3 collects within the 

pore space of sherds is still debated (Rice 1987). If 

wildfires reach temperatures over 750 °C (1382 °F), 

the possible dissociation of calcium carbonate and the 

formation of quicklime may cause structural damage 

to ceramics. 

Exposure to acidic soil and plant roots can cause certain elements, such as alkali metals, calcium, sodium, 

zinc, cobalt, and barium, to leach from ceramics (Rice 

1987). In some environments, sherds might also accumulate a layer of adhering salt. These post-depositional 

changes to pottery may be the final alterations that 

affect wildfire’s influence.
92 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

Fire Effects Research ____________

Research concerning fire effects on ceramics falls 

into two categories: fire effects on appearance and 

fire effects on analytical properties. Fire can change 

the visual appearance of pottery in a number of ways, 

including smoke-blackening, spalling, oxidation and 

burn-off of decorative paint. Archaeologists are most 

concerned with how visual impacts may affect pottery 

identification, although lab processing and analysis 

may correct for these. Fire effects on analytical properties may not be visibly noticeable and include effects 

to ceramic temper identification, thermoluminescence 

(TL) dating, and residue analyses. Archaeologists will 

be concerned if ceramic analyses needed to answer 

specific research questions are foreclosed by this type 

of effect, which cannot be compensated for in the lab.

Literature describing fire effects has mainly consisted of post-fire qualitative observations for which 

pre-burn data are not available (Eininger 1989; Pilles 

1984; Switzer 1974). Only a small number of studies 

(such as Gaunt and Lentz 1996; Jones and Euler 1986; 

Ruscavage-Barz 1999) have attempted to quantitatively record fire effects on ceramics; few have compared 

pre-fire data with post-burn observations,as do Picha 

and others (1991).

Fire Effects on Appearance

Burgh (1960) introduced the idea that wildfires may 

affect the visual identification of potsherds. Since that 

time, most fire effects research on ceramics has focused 

on alterations to the visual appearance of sherds (for 

example Gaunt and Lentz 1996; Jones and Euler 

1986; Picha and others 1991; Ruscavage-Barz 1999). 

Fire may visually affect ceramics by causing surface 

spalling, altering painted decoration, changing sherd 

color, and depositing soot on sherds. The adhesion of a 

dark sticky substance is possibly residue from burned 

pine pitch. These tar-like substances are sometimes 

also noted on burned sherds (Gaunt and Lentz 1996; 

Pilles 1984). Ceramic slips and glazes may undergo 

cracking and vitrification. Appliqué designs may break 

off under the pressure of heating and cooling. Such 

changes are significant when the visual characteristics 

used to identify pottery are affected. 

Depending on the presence of non-clay inclusions 

such as iron and carbon, sherds may undergo color 

change when exposed to fire (see above). Different 

kinds of paint and glaze will also react differently to 

fire. Sherds decorated with organic paint are more 

vulnerable than ones decorated with mineral paint. 

Paints added to ceramics after firing are also likely to 

burn off more easily than paints that have survived the 

firing process (Shepard 1956). Bennett and Kunzmann 

(1985) observe that organic paint begins to burn off 

when heated to temperatures above 350 °C (662 °F) in 

a laboratory experiment; mineral paint requires higher 

temperatures to burn off. Shepard (1956) discusses an 

oxidation test for distinguishing between black organic 

and iron paints on potsherds. In this test, hydrofluoric 

acid is applied to loosen the paint from clay. Sherds 

are then heated to 800 °C (1472 °F). According to 

Shepard, organic paint will burn off in this test while 

iron paint will oxidize and turn red. Wildfires and hot 

prescription burns may have similar effects, turning 

iron-based paints red and burning off carbon paints 

(as observed by Gaunt and Lentz 1996). 

Studies of fire effects have found that smoke blackening, or sooting, is the most common fire effect on 

ceramics. Jones and Euler (1986) note that soot was 

the only fire effect they observed on ceramics from the 

Dutton Point Wildfire (fig. 3-8). Gaunt and Lentz (1996) 

recorded soot on 23 percent of all sherds collected for 

the Henry Fire study (57 percent of all burned sherds) 

and Ruscavage-Barz (1999) found that smoke blackening was the most common effect of the Dome Fire on 

ceramics. 

In the Dutton Point Fire study, smoke blackening 

rendered five sherds (21 percent of the sample) unidentifiable (Jones and Euler 1986). This soot could 

not be washed off completely, even with the use of 

hydrochloric acid. Observing unblackened sherds at 

earlier burned sites in Mesa Verde, Jones and Euler 

(1986) proposed that cumulative rainstorms and exposure to the elements would cause soot to eventually 

deteriorate. Gaunt and Lentz (1996) found that soot 

was easily washed off sherds in the lab and that it 

did not impede identification. More permanent smoke 

blackening, however, was observed and not recorded 

because it was assumed to be a product of earlier 

fires. Ruscavage-Barz (1999) noted that most ceramics were still identifiable, even when they had been 

“fire-blackened over both sides.”

In their study of prescribed fire effects, Picha and 

others (1991) had no difficulty identifying burned 

sherds. The ceramics underwent only minor changes, 

exhibiting soot and becoming darker or lighter in color. 

After the high intensity Dome Fire, Ruscavage-Barz 

(1999) found that most sherds could still be identified. 

Gaunt and Lentz (1996) found that the Henry Fire 

vitrified a number of sherds that were misidentified 

in the field as glazewares. Oxidation, vitrification, and 

crackling of slip also hampered field identification of 

some Henry Fire sherds. All sherds misidentified in 

the field, however, were later correctly identified in 

the lab (Gaunt and Lentz 1996). This is not an unusual 

occurrence. Even unburned sherds can be misidentified in the field, and Gaunt and Lentz (1996) do not 

indicate whether all sherds at their unburned control 

site were identified correctly.
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 93

A few attempts have been made to correlate fire effects on ceramics with burn severity. Gaunt and Lentz 

(1996) found that fire effects were more severe at heavily 

burned sites but the relationship between fire effects to 

ceramics and burn severity was not statistically predictable. Areas of burned logs in one moderately burned 

site caused fire effects to be more severe than those 

observed at heavily burned sites (see also chapter 7). 

Picha and others (1991) found the effects of grass fire 

on ceramics to be minimal in prescribed burn plots; 

however, there was a range of severities.

While studies indicate that fire will generally have 

minimal impacts on pottery identification, this may 

not be the case for all types of pottery. Switzer (1974) 

described fire effects to potsherds in the 1972 Moccasin Fire at Mesa Verde National Park. He noted 

that spalling was quite common and that the coils of 

corrugated potsherds became separated. Carbon paint 

burned off decorated sherds, and organic matter (called 

“carbon streaks” by archaeologists) within the body 

of grayware sherds oxidized, causing these sherds to 

turn light gray or white in color. Such dramatic fire 

effects may have impeded pottery identification and 

affected the durability of potsherds. However, fire 

effects such as these have not been recorded in any 

controlled study. They occurred primarily to pottery 

that was corrugated, carbon painted, and/or made of 

paste with a high organic content.

Generally, if potsherds can still be identified after 

a fire, visual changes are not of much concern to archaeologists. The few studies that examine fire effects 

on pottery show that most sherds can be identified in 

the lab, even after intense wildfires. The most common effect on pottery is smoke blackening. Soot can 

sometimes be washed off (Gaunt and Lentz 1996) and 

might otherwise dissipate with exposure to rain and 

weather (Jones and Euler 1986). Potential effects on 

pottery vary according to fire intensity, environment, 

and ceramic type. Practical consideration of local 

pottery characteristics should reveal ceramic types 

vulnerable to fire damage. Loss of information due 

to adverse fire effects may be overcome by increasing 

the sample size of sherds collected for archaeological 

study. 

Fire Effects on Analytical Properties

Fire effects on the analytical properties of ceramics 

have been studied less than fire effects on appearance. 

Technical analysis of pottery may include microscopic 

identification of temper, petrography, analysis of pollen or protein residue on ceramics, neutron activation 

analysis (NAA) to determine clay source, and dating 

by thermoluminescence. The importance of different 

analytical properties depends on local research needs. 

Figure 3-8—Dutton Point fire, Grand Canyon National Park archaeological site burned by 

wildfire (Jones and Euler 1986).
94 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

Sidebar 3-1—Henry Fire Effects on Ceramics

Henry Fire, Holiday Mesa, Jemez Mountains, New Mexico, June 27–29, 1991

References: Lentz and others 1996

General information:

•	 Elevation: 2,438.4 m (8,000 ft)

•	 Vegetation: second growth ponderosa pine

•	 Topography: mesa top delineated by canyons on three sides

•	 Type of study: post-fire study of surface and subsurface fire effects

Fire description: 

•	 Temperature range: 25-28.3 °C (77-83 °F)

•	 Duration: 3 days

•	 Relative humidity: 14-36%

•	 Fuel: dense ponderosa pine saplings and dry fuels 

•	 Type of fire: wildland 

•	 Energy release component (ERC): 64-72

•	 Burning index (BI): 55-67

Discussion

The Henry Fire occurred in the Jemez Mountains of New Mexico in June, 1991, burning approximately 3 km2

 (800 acres). After the fire, archaeologists resurveyed the burn area, relocating 45 out 

of 52 known sites and encountering nine previously unrecorded sites. 

In 1992, archaeologists from the Museum of New Mexico’s Office of Archaeological Studies (OAS) 

and the U.S. Forest Service conducted fieldwork for Phase 1 of a post-fire study. Their purpose 

was to record fire effects on surface and subsurface archaeological resources and to investigate the 

relationship between fire effects and fire severity. Their work included preliminary investigations 

at seven prehistoric sites and analysis of fire effects on ceramics, lithics, groundstone, architecture, 

and obsidian hydration dating. Phase 2 of the project included more detailed research and controlled 

experiments, the results of which remain to be published. 

The seven archaeological sites investigated during Phase 1 of the study included two lightly burned 

sites, two heavily burned sites, two moderately burned sites, and one unburned control site. All sites 

had masonry structures made up of volcanic tuff. Surface artifacts were collected from the southeast 

quadrant of each site. Test units (1- by 1-m) were then established in the southeast quadrant of each 

site and excavated to a depth of 20 cm (7.9 in). Subsurface artifacts were compared to the surface 

collection. Additional excavations were conducted in burned log areas within architectural remains. 

Fire effects on architecture were recorded in the field while effects on ceramics and stone artifacts 

were assessed in a laboratory setting. Categories were developed to identify fire effects on different 

artifact types. Fire effects categories for ceramics included portion affected by fire (the percentage 

of a sherd’s surface area), sooting, spalling, oxidation, modification of pigment, and other physical 

alterations (Lentz and others 1996). Fire effects on lithics included portion affected by fire, sooting, 

potlidding, oxidation, reduction, crazing, and other physical alterations (Lentz and others 1996). 

Groundstone fire effects were similar to those for lithics, excluding potlidding and crazing (Lentz 

and others 1996). 

The study found that most fire effects on artifacts occurred at the surface. A direct relationship 

between fire effects and burn severity was established, although dramatic fire effects were observed 

in all severities. In lightly burned areas, artifacts near burned logs were highly affected. In Phase 1 

of the project, archaeologists recorded fire effects without attempting to measure the loss of archaeological information. They stressed that not all fire effects recorded could be considered damage. In 

Phase 2 of the project, fire damage to archaeological information was to be assessed separately from 

general fire effects on heritage resources. Through controlled burn experiments, Phase 2 was also 

planned to distinguish the effects of recent fire from impacts of earlier burning.
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 95

In most cases, for example, thermoluminescence dating is not conducted on ceramics because with fewer 

resources we can use design type and cross-dating 

materials with known dates to define properties of 

the item in question. 

Pilles (1984) writes that fire can alter temper, compromising its identification. He notes that inability to 

recognize temper can make identification of undecorated sherds impossible. Identification of temper is also 

important because it provides information about the 

origins of materials used to create pottery. Archaeologists routinely carry out microscopic identification of 

sherds for temper identification. Petrography, a specialized geological analysis of sherds in thin sections, 

is a more detailed method of examining temper. 

Fire may alter organic temper, calcium carbonate or 

shell more easily than some types of mineral temper. 

Identification of these types of temper may, therefore, 

be more easily compromised by fire. However, no study 

has yet investigated fire effects on petrography or on 

the routine identification of temper in the lab and 

field. Gaunt and Lentz (1996) and Ruscavage-Barz 

(1999) do not mention any adverse effects on laboratory 

identification of temper in their archaeological studies 

of sherds recovered from the Henry and Dome fires. 

Microscopic identification of temper was conducted 

for archaeological study and not included in the fire 

effects studies mentioned above. They do not indicate 

whether or not temper could be recognized using a 10X 

hand lens, an instrument archaeologists can carry into 

the field.

Rowlette (1991) discusses fire effects to thermoluminescence (TL) dating of nine potsherds recovered 

from the 1977 La Mesa Fire excavations. TL dating 

detects the amount of time passed since a crystalline 

material was exposed to high temperatures. When a 

ceramic vessel is initially fired, its clay releases energy 

in the form of light. After firing, this energy begins to 

re-accumulate and can be measured by a TL specialist to determine how long ago the vessel was made. 

Rowlette (1991) writes that TL measurements can be 

altered if a material is subjected to heat over 400 °C 

(752 °F). In his analysis of La Mesa pottery sherds he 

finds that the fire affected TL readings for ceramics 

located less than 10 to 15 centimeters (3.9-5.9 in) below 

ground surface. Rowlette (1991) notes, however, that 

due to standard procedure for TL dating, materials 

located at the surface are routinely avoided.

Animal proteins, blood residue, and pollen found 

on ceramics may be altered when subjected to high 

temperatures. Identification of these residues can 

sometimes yield important information about past 

food resources and processing methods. Fish (1990) 

observed that fire can make pollen near to the ground 

surface unidentifiable. Subsurface pollen located near 

tree roots or logs that conduct heat may also be affected. 

Fire effects on blood residue and animal protein have 

not been studied. 

In summary, fire effects on a number of technical 

analyses have yet to be examined. Potential effects 

on petrography and visual temper identification are 

probably of the most concern to archaeologists. Archaeological studies of fire effects on less commonly 

used analyses such as blood residue and neutron activation are also called for. The importance of different 

analytical properties varies according to local research 

needs. Most studies show that subsurface sherds will 

be subjected to less heat and be less affected by fire 

than surface-level ceramics. Technical analysis of 

subsurface ceramics might, therefore, be reliable even 

when the analytical properties of surface-level sherds 

are held in question.

Conclusions____________________

Few studies have evaluated fire effects on prehistoric 

ceramic artifacts. Most studies are conducted in the 

aftermath of wildfire when pre-burn comparative data 

are not available. These studies present a problem, as 

discussed by Gaunt and Lentz (1996), in distinguishing recent fire effects from the effects of prior burning. Because fire behavior also affects the impacts to 

ceramics, studies need to record fire temperature and 

duration of heating to which sherds are exposed. 

Experimental studies focus mainly on the visual 

impacts of fire on potsherds. Fire effects on analytical properties of ceramics are less understood. Smoke 

blackening of sherds located at the ground surface is 

the most common fire effect noted. The permanency 

of smoke blackening on sherds remains a significant 

research question. Soot that cannot be washed off and 

other effects such as spalling, vitrification, oxidation, 

and crackling of slip can lead to the misidentification 

of some sherds. However, studies have found that 

potsherds affected by fire can most often be correctly 

identified in the lab.

In the absence of definitive research findings, resource managers should consider research needs and 

the characteristics of local pottery when evaluating 

potential fire effects. Local environment and expected 

fire behavior should also be considered (see chapter 2). 

Managers need to evaluate how differences in clay 

paste and temper might influence fire effects. The 

different ways pottery was constructed, decorated, 

fired, and used by prehistoric people are also important 

considerations. Finally, post-depositional changes to 

potsherds may influence fire impacts. 

Fire impacts on ceramic artifacts will not always 

result in loss of archaeological information. Sherds 

that are smoke blackened or oxidized might be iden-
96 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

tifiable in the lab if not in the field. Loss of analytic 

properties for surface sherds may not be of concern if 

subsurface sherds are available and can be reliably 

analyzed. When a large number of sherds are present 

at a site, increasing the sample size in a study may 

compensate for damage done to a few sherds. Fire 

effects on ceramics are of much higher concern when 

sherds are less abundant, subsurface sherds are not 

present, high intensity wildfire can be expected, or 

local ceramics have properties specifically vulnerable 

to heat and flame.
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 97

Chapter 4: 

Fire Effects on Flaked Stone, Ground 

Stone, and Other Stone Artifacts

Krista Deal 

Although the action of fire upon building 

stones is well understood by engineers and 

insurance specialists, it is commonly supposed that its effect upon rocks in nature is 

only of minor consequence... on the contrary, 

fire is in some regions very important; and, 

under suitable conditions, it overshadows 

all the other factors [of weathering]combined 

(Eliot Blackwelder 1927).

Introduction ____________________

Lithic artifacts can be divided into two broad classes, 

flaked stone and ground stone, that overlap depending 

on the defining criteria. For this discussion, flaked stone

is used to describe objects that cut, scrape, pierce, saw, 

hack, etch, drill, or perforate, and the debris (debitage) 

created when these items are manufactured. Objects 

made of flaked stone include projectile points, knives, 

drills, scrapers, planes, burins, gravers, spokeshaves, 

choppers, saws, cores, flakes, fish hooks, hoes, and hand 

axes, among others. These were commonly made from 

chert, flint, chalcedony, petrified and opalized wood, 

slate, siltsone, mudstone, quartz, quartzite, obsidian, 

basalt, metamorphic rocks, and vitrified and welded 

tuff. 

Ground stone distinguishes items used to pound, 

mash, crack, pulverize, grind or abrade minerals or 

plant and animal products, and includes such objects 

as metates, millingstones, manos or handstones, 

pestles, portable mortars, abraders, hammerstones, 

mullers, polishing stones, and paint palletes. Ground 

stone was often fashioned of granite, diorite, gabbro, 

gneiss, basalt, andesite, rhyolite, greywacke, steatite, 

dolomite, limestone, slate, shale, sandstone, schist and 

quartzite, among other types of rock. 

All other stone artifacts, including a wide range of 

ornamental and utilitarian items made from numerous 

material types, are grouped and discussed separately 

from flaked and ground stone.

Data and research potentials associated with 

flaked stone objects include information related to 

technology, subsistence, economic exchange, and site 

chronology. Obsidian, basalt, tuff and chert can be 

subjected to geochemical analysis to identify their 

geographic source of origin, thus yielding information on material acquisition, economic exchange and 

trade networks. Obsidian and chert artifacts can also 
98 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

be dated, providing manufacturing and site occupation dates. The presence of particular artifact types 

or the selection and/or relative frequency of certain 

stone material types may reflect social stratification, 

or ethnic, linguistic, and tribal affiliations. Plant and 

animal residues on stone tools may yield information 

about tool function, food processing and consumption. 

It has also been speculated that some data resident in 

lithic artifacts may be useful in landscape reconstructions, fire histories, and determining past fuel loads.

Lithic Artifacts and Fire __________

Artifacts made of stone are generally the best preserved of all material types in the archaeological record, 

often providing the only evidence of where people lived 

and worked in the past. Despite its durability, stone 

can be affected by fire, as well as by efforts to suppress 

wildfires and to rehabilitate burned areas following 

fires. 

Reported fire effects on stone artifacts include 

breakage, spalling, crenulating, crazing, potlidding, 

microfracturing, pitting, bubbling, bloating, smudging, 

discoloration, adhesions, altered hydration, altered 

protein residue, and weight and density loss. Surface 

artifacts tend to be altered more than those located 

in subsurface contexts, with protection often afforded 

by even a few centimeters of soil. Fewer negative effects are noted in light fuels, with increasing effects 

in moderately and heavily fueled fires, or at specific 

locations within fires where fuels are heavy, such as 

near or under logs. Most researchers suggest that effects 

in heavier fuels are a result of the increased amount 

of time artifacts are exposed to heat (see, for instance, 

Benson 2002; Buenger 2003; Deal 2002; Gaunt and 

others 1996; Linderman 1992). In general, the higher 

the temperature and the more severely charred the 

ground surface, the greater the reported effect. 

Some Caveats

Despite the long list of effects that can occur to stone 

artifacts in fires, it should be noted that not all effects 

are adverse, nor does a single effect, even if adverse, 

necessarily limit the recovery of all data resident in 

the artifacts. For example, discoloration may hinder 

identification of material type, but have little impact on 

the recognition of artifact type or other macroscopic information, such as manufacturing technique. Likewise, 

few or no visible effects to artifacts may be present, but 

microscopic data associated with these objects, such as 

plant protein, blood residue or hydration rinds, may be 

altered or destroyed. Some effects can be both adverse 

and beneficial—for instance, the increased visibility 

afforded after fires can lead to vandalism and illegal 

collecting, although for archaeologists, this condition 

often allows more accurate recording of site features 

and constituents (Biswell 1989; Blakensop and others 

1999; Davis and others 1992b; Hester 1989; Likins, 

personal communication, 1999; Moskowitz 1998; Pilles 

1982 and 1984; Racine and Racine 1979; Romme and 

others 1993; Silvermoon 1987; Switzer 1974).

Overall, relatively little is known or reported in 

the literature about thermal effects on most types of 

stone artifacts, primarily because most research has 

been conducted in the aftermath of wildfires. Without pre-fire information on the material affected, or 

collection of standardized data concerning the fire 

environment, fire history, fire behavior, temperature, 

burn intensity, or ground charring, no inferences may 

be made about fire-caused damage to artifacts. This 

lack of information makes it difficult to compare or 

meaningfully summarize effects. The data on effects 

that is available is heavily weighted to flaked stone, 

and primarily to obsidian and chert. 

Another difficulty in assessing fire effects on stone 

tools results from reports lacking explicit descriptions 

of criteria used to measure effects. Many articles lacked 

methodology of both temperature collection and how 

specimens were heated, making it difficult to assess 

if reported temperatures could be comparable. Other 

reports clearly indicated techniques, but were lacking 

important fire related information, such as weather 

conditions and fuel type. Yet another problem is the 

variability of methods used to collect temperature data. 

Sayler and others (1989), and Picha and others (1991) 

used a suite of temperature sensitive crayons, which 

change color according to the maximum temperature. 

Some researchers have used temperature sensitive 

pellets, lacquers and pyrometric cones (Halford 2002; 

Kelly and Mayberry 1980; Solomon 2002) and others 

used no temperature measurement at all. Pellets, 

lacquers, and crayons generally provide few temperatures per measured plot, present no timeframe 

of when the maximum temperature was reached, or 

fire residence time within a site. Another problem 

with pellets is related to their placement and where 

the pellets should be placed to appropriately measure 

temperature affecting cultural materials. In Solomon 

(2002), pellets were placed below the artifact; whether 

the pellet measured the temperature of the artifact’s 

underside, the heat flux surrounding the artifact or 

the soil surface temperature is unknown. In Bennett 

and Kunzmann (1985), the team heated artifacts in a 

muffle furnace, a controlled and consistent environment where temperature change is gradual. Several 

others (Biswell 1989; Hemry 1995; Solomon 1999) 

placed artifacts within a prescribed fire management 

area, where heating is rapid, uneven, and temporally 

variable. These researchers measured pre- and postfire conditions of the pieces and the incongruence between studies was likely due to burn location, seasonal 
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 99

weather patterns, fuel composition, and fuel loading 

differences. Buenger (2003) assessed effects using 

a combination of field-based and laboratory experimentation, combined with a sampling of burned-over 

archaeological sites. Buenger’s prescribed burn experiments were conducted in a variety of fuel types, and his 

lab experiments were conducted by heating artifacts 

in a muffle furnace, and in wildland fire simulations 

within a large combustion chamber/wind tunnel. 

Buenger’s wildland fire simulations, conducted at the 

USDA Rocky Mountain Research Station’s Fire Sciences Laboratory in Missoula, Montana, are especially 

relevant, as he was able to simulate fires of variable 

intensities, while recording both time and temperature 

data, as well as heat flux data. In addition, Buenger 

placed thermocouples, set to record temperatures every 

second, on the upper and lower surfaces of artifacts 

in order to assess temperature differences on artifacts 

as they were burned over (2003). Buenger’s study and 

others using thermocouples and data loggers indicate 

that this is at present the best method of temperature 

assessment. Temperatures are collected periodically 

during heating and provide maximum, average, and 

minimum temperatures and duration of heating. The 

collection of data is systematic and different studies 

may be compared to show variability of effects between 

sites and artifacts. 

Even when the data collection criteria are stated, 

results can be misinterpreted. For instance, one widely 

referenced source (Bennett and Kunzmann 1985) states 

“severe alteration of inorganic materials is not to be 

expected at temperatures below 400 to 500 °C (752 to 

932 °F).” This temperature range has been cited in 

training documents and prescribed burn plans as a 

critical temperature threshold below which few, if 

any, effects are expected. Bennett’s and Kunzmann’s 

(1985) primary criterion for determining effect was a 

change in weight, and they qualified their statement 

with “if [burned for] less than 1/2 hour.” Reported 

“critical threshold temperatures” for inorganic materials vary widely, ranging from a relatively cool 200 °C 

(392 °F) (Silvermoon 1987), to 300 °C (572 °F) (Hemry 

1995; Lissoway and Propper 1988), to 400 °C (752 °F) 

(Biswell 1989), to between 400 and 500 °C (752 to 

932 °F) (Bennett and Kunzmann 1985), to 426 °C 

(800 °F) (Linderman 1992), to a hotter range of 500 

to 600 °C (932 to 112 °F) (Kelly 1981). 

In addition to the wide range of temperatures reported, another problem with using the “critical temperature” approach is that it implies that temperature 

alone accounts for the effects, without consideration 

of other critical elements, such as heating methods, 

temperature measurement mechanisms, burning conditions, fuel loading, or residence time. In fact, if the 

duration of heat is extended, some effects can occur 

at dramatically lower temperatures, similar to those 

occurring at more extreme temperatures in shorter 

periods of time. 

Further, many reports cite the critical temperature 

threshold for effects without defining exactly what it 

is that is being critically altered. For instance, these 

reports often lump all lithic items together, and often 

without discussions of “artifact-stored information” 

(Bennett and Kunzmann 1985), such as obsidian hydration, pigments or protein residues. In these instances, 

effects statements are based on visual observations 

alone, without attempts to discern whether other data 

potentials have been affected. In addition, few studies 

have looked at the effects of slow versus rapid cooling.

Flaked Stone ___________________

Much of the research and available data on thermal 

effects on flaked stone has been categorized by toolstone 

type, with most research focused primarily on chert 

and obsidian.

Chert: Flint, Jasper, Chalcedony, and 

Related Silicates

Chert was sometimes deliberately heated during 

the prehistoric manufacture of tools in order to improve its flaking characteristics. Researchers have 

found that slowly heating chert can improve flaking 

characteristics and enhance workability. Replicative 

studies of heat-treating techniques have provided 

substantial data relating temperatures and duration 

of heating to changes in chert (Bleed and Meier 1980; 

Griffiths and others 1987; Luedtke 1992; Rick 1978). 

The temperature range that improves flaking characteristics for most chert is from 250 °C to 450 °C (482 °F 

to 842 °F) when heated and cooled slowly, with the 

length of exposure to heat varying from 30 minutes to 

as long as 72 hours (Luedtke 1992). Several researchers report similar effects from heating chert at lower 

temperatures for an extended period of time, or from 

heating at higher temperatures for a shorter amount 

of time (Griffiths and others 1987; Rick 1978). Chert 

has a temperature range below which there will be 

no improvement to flaking, no matter how long it is 

exposed to heat, and above which the chert becomes 

unworkable, probably due to impurities, water content, 

and grain size (Luedtke 1992). Compositionally dissimilar chert will react differently to heat. 

The most obvious changes to heat-treated cherts 

are in color and internal luster. In areas where chert 

sources vary by visible characteristics such as color 

(see Luedtke 1992), external color change can make 

visual source determinations difficult or impossible 

(Perkins 1985), or lead to misidentification as another 

type of toolstone (Anderson and Origer 1997). Although 

not all cherts change color when heated, most will 
100 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

Figure 4-1—Potlidding, crazing and cracking on chert thermally damaged during a heat-treatment replication experiment 

(sample courtesy of Rob Jackson).

change luster on the interior, often going unnoticed 

until a flake is removed after heat treatment. Temperatures at which color and luster are altered vary by 

chert source. Color changes have been noted between 

240 °C (464 °F) and as high as 800 °C (1472 °F), and 

luster between 121 °C (249.8 °F) and 400 °C (752 °F) 

(Mandeville 1971; Perkins 1985; Picha and others 

1991; Purdy 1974; Purdy and Brooks 1971). 

Internal change in luster is often the best indication 

that artifacts have been thermally altered, although 

distinguishing between deliberate cultural heat 

treatment and the effects of fires can prove difficult 

(Luedtke 1992; Rogers and Francis 1988; Rondeau 

1995). When heated, the external surfaces of cherts 

tend to become optically dull (that is, non-reflective 

of light). Bennett and Kunzmann (1985) found this 

occurred at temperatures of 600 °C to 800 °C (1112 °F 

to 1472 °F), whereas Buenger (2003) first noted this 

effect at 300 °C (572 °F). Perkins (1985) suggested the 

presence of lustrous and relict dull flake scars on the 

same piece is a good indication the object was deliberately heat-treated, and not subsequently altered in 

a fire. Complete artifacts displaying all optically dull 

surfaces, combined with potlidding and crazing, are 

likely to have been subjected to a post-manufacturing 

fire. 

Chert from different sources will fracture at different temperatures, although most reportedly fracture 

between 350 °C and 550 °C (662 °F and 1022 °F) 

(Buenger 2003; Luedtke 1992; Purdy 1974; Rick 1978; 

Schindler and others 1982). At temperatures between 

350 °C and 400 °C (662 °F and 752 °F), chert can 

become distorted or brittle in as little as 20 minutes 

(Luedtke 1992; Purdy 1974). Some chert will explode 

when raised to these temperatures rapidly, but not 

when temperatures are elevated slowly (Luedtke 

1992; Purdy 1974). Impurities in chert can result in 

alterations at temperatures as low as 150 °C (302° F), 

or as high as 650 °C (1202 °F), with recrystallization 

causing chert to coarsen, appear foliated, and take on 

a sugary appearance (Luedtke 1992). 

Heating or cooling chert rapidly or unequally can 

cause fracturing and breakage from thermal shock 

(Buenger 2003; Luedtke 1992). Thin flakes are less 

susceptible than bulkier cores and cobbles to thermal 

shock (Bennett and Kunzmann 1985; Buenger 2003; 

Perkins 1985; Picha and others 1991). Once heated, 

rapidly cooled chert will break (Luedtke 1992). Finegrained cherts become altered at lower temperatures 

and suffer more thermal shock than coarse-grained 

ones (Mandeville 1971). Chert protected from direct 

heat, even if insulated by as little as one to two centimeters of sand or other material, is less susceptible 

to thermal shock than unprotected pieces (Flenniken 

and Garrison 1975; Perkins 1985). Buenger found 

that chert nodules were prone to thermal fracturing 

“when the upper surfaces are precipitously heated to 

approximately 550 °C [(1022 °F)] for 20 seconds, and 

when the temperature between the upper and lower 

surfaces approaches or exceeds 60 percent” (2003).

After direct contact with flames, chert can become 

calcinated to the point of being easily crushed (Luedtke 

1992; Weymouth and Williamson 1951). 

Cherts altered in wildland and prescribed fires 

have suffered external color changes, patination, 

cracking, crenulated breaks, potlidding, fracturing, 

exploding, shattering, crazing, reddening, blackening, sooting, smudging, and vitrification (see fig. 4-1) 

(Ahler 1983; Bayer 1979; Benson 1999; Buenger 

2003; Eisler and others 1978; Gaunt and others 1996; 

Katz 1999; Lentz and others1996; Likins, personal 

communication,1999; Lissoway and Propper 1998; 

Patterson 1995; Picha and others 1991; Tremaine and 

Jackson 1995). These modifications have occurred 

in low to high intensity fires of varying duration, 

temperature, and ground surface damage severities. 

In general, the longer and/or hotter fire burns, the 

greater the reported damage. Leudtke (1992) reports 

that the most common type of thermal damage to 

chert is fracture, either in blocky, angular chunks 
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 101

Table 4-1—Some reported thermal effects on chert. 

Temperature (°C) Temperature (°F) Effect a

150 302 Impurities may result in fractures

121 - 400 249.8 - 752 Change in interior luster

240 - 800 464 - 1472 Change in color on external surface

350 - 400 662 - 752 Becomes distorted, brittle, or explosive

350 - 550 662 - 1022 Fractures

600 - 800 1112 - 1472 Optical dulling of external surface

a Note: Cherts from different sources react differently to heat. Some effects can occur at lower temperatures if duration of heat is long enough. Not all cherts change color or luster when heated. Temperatures 

for other effects summarized in text are unknown, or variable from Luedtke (1992).

with no bulbs of percussion, or more distinctively, 

in “pot lid” fractures, which are small, circular, 

convex fragments that have popped off flat surfaces 

(table 4-1).

Other data associated with chert artifacts can be 

extracted using laboratory techniques such as protein 

residue analysis, sourcing through macroscopic fossil 

content and trace element analysis, and dating via thermoluminescence (TL) or electron spin resonance (ESR) 

spectroscopy (Julig 1994; Luedtke 1992; Newman 

1994). Fire impacts some artifacts to the point where 

these laboratory techniques cannot be used, or the 

data gathered using these techniques is suspect. TL 

and ESR spectroscopy have been used to determine 

if chert has been previously heated (Luedtke 1992; 

Melcher and Zimmerman 1977; Robins and others 

1978). Unfortunately, we do not yet know at what temperature the ability to use these analytic techniques 

on chert from different sources are lost.

Obsidian

Obsidian from distinct volcanic flows has unique 

chemical compositions, allowing researchers to determine the source of obsidian tools and debris left 

on sites in prehistoric contexts (Bowman and others 

1973). Few studies analyzed whether fires affect the 

sourcing potential of obsidian, but several studies 

used X-ray fluorescence and were successful in obtaining source information from surface samples subject 

to intense fires (Davis and others 1992b; Keefe and 

others 1998; Skinner and others 1995, 1997; Steffen 

2002; Tremaine and Jackson 1995). However, Shackley 

and Dillian (2002) reported potential problems with 

sourcing thermally altered obsidian artifacts, noting 

that bonding of melted sand to the obsidian surface 

could create sourcing errors. Steffen (2002) observed a 

slight increase in trace elemental values with heating, 

although none to the extent that sourcing was affected. 

Skinner and others (1997) noted problems using X-ray 

fluorescence on fire-affected obsidians that had a dark 

patina believed to be a silica-based encrustation. 

Anderson and Origer (1997) reported the exterior 

surface of some obsidian was altered enough to make 

sourcing via macroscopic attributes difficult one year 

after a wildland fire. 

The temperatures and duration of heating reported 

to affect obsidian varies widely. It has been suggested that some component of the fire environment 

(such as wood ash, soil chemistries, or soil moistures) 

may be contributing to observed changes (Deal 2002; 

Nakazawa 2002; Steffen 2002; Trembour 1979). Variation in heating within respective fires (chapter 2) may 

explain some of the differences in reported effects. Differences in water content in obsidian might be causing 

divergent heat effects (Steffen 2002). Some apparent 

inconsistencies may be due to observer technique, or the 

result of various source materials reacting differently 

to thermal environments because of unique chemical 

compositions (although Steffen 2002 documented 

variations in heat effects on obsidian from the same 

source).

Obsidian is thermally affected at varying temperatures and at differing lengths of exposure to heat. 

In field and lab fire experiments, obsidian has been 

reported to fracture, crack, craze, potlid, exfoliate, 

shatter, oxidize, pit, bubble, bloat, melt, become 

smudged, discolored, covered with residue, or rendered 

essentially unrecognizable (see fig. 4-2) (Anderson 

and Origer 1997; Bayer 1979; Buenger 2003; Davis 

and others 1992b; Deal 2002; Eisler and others 

1978; Gaunt and Lentz 1996; Hull 1991; Johnson and 

Lippincott 1989; Kelly and Mayberry 1979; Lentz and 

others1996; Likins, personal communication, 1999; 

Lissoway and Propper 1988; Nakazawa 1999, 2002; 

Origer 1996; Pilles 1984; Rogers and Francis 1988; 

Skinner and others 1997; Steffen 1999, 2002; Steffen 

and others 1997; Stevenson and others 1985; Traylor 

and others 1983; Trembour 1979). Buenger (2003) 

found that some of these effects could be produced 

when temperatures peaked between 500 and 600 

°C (932 and 1112 °F) within 40 to 50 seconds, and 

when the temperatures were sustained within 100 °C 

(212 °F) for as little as 5 to 32 seconds. Steffen (2002) 
102 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

Figure 4-2—Obsidian flake altered in a prescribed fire 

experiment displaying adhesions, smudging, and light 

surface pitting.

Sidebar 4-1—Stone Artifacts

Yellowstone Fires, Yellowstone National Park, 1988

References: Ayers (1988); Connor and Cannon (1991); 

Connor and others (1989); Davis and others (1992b)

General Information:

•	 Elevation: about 1,830 m (6003.9 ft) above sea level

•	 Vegetation: mostly forested areas of mixed lodgepole 

pine and Douglas Fir

•	 Topography: mountainous

•	 Type of study: post-burn assessment

Fire Description:

•	 Temperature range: 32.2 °C (90 °F)+ temperatures 

on June 24 and July 21, 25, 26, 30.

•	 Relative humidity: dry

•	 Fuel: high fuel load

•	 Type of fire: wildland (about 8 separate fires)

•	 Energy Release Component (ERC): July, August, 

and early September saw ratings of 22 and 23.

•	 Burning Index (BI): values in July and August 

reached 90-105

Discussion

In the summer of 1988, a series of wildfires burned 

approximately 6070 km2

 (1.5 million acres) of Yellowstone National Park and surrounding forestland. The 

high intensity wildfires created a mosaic burn pattern 

of severely burned areas and spots of land that had not 

been affected (Connor and Cannon 1991; Connor and 

others 1989). 

After the Yellowstone fires, researchers from the Midwest Archeological Center of the National Park Service 

excavated archaeological sites in the burned area and 

assessed fire effects to the soil matrix (Connor and Cannon 1991; Connor and others 1989). Fire was found to 

have burned the surface layer of duff, leaving a 5-10 cm 

(2-3.9 in) thickness of burned material. The soil beneath 

this burned material was generally unaffected. The 

researchers also observed heavily oxidized soil beneath 

deadfall trees. They noted that similar lenses of burned 

and oxidized soil were found in the local archaeological 

record and interpreted as cultural features. 

In 1989, Montana State University researchers, under 

a contract with the National Park Service, conducted 

fieldwork at Obsidian Cliff lithic procurement site (Davis 

and others 1992b). Two thirds of this lava flow had been 

burned severely during the 1988 fires. The researchers 

recorded information necessary to nominate the site as 

a National Historic Landmark, taking advantage of the 

increased ground visibility to record 59 obsidian procurement loci. The researchers observed site erosion caused 

by vegetation loss and noted that soil loss had caused 

trees to fall and upturn several cubic meters of sediment. They also described visual fire effects to obsidian 

and compared geochemical analyses of obsidian collected 

before and after the fire (Davis and others 1992b).

noted the need for a standardized set of definitions to 

describe heat effects to obsidian, and offered (in part) 

the following:

Matte finish: A dulling of the surface resembling 

weathering or a lusterless patina;

Surface sheen: A metallic-like luster, with a reported 

“gun-metal” sheen attributed to organic buildup on 

the surface of obsidian, and a “silvery, reflective” 

sheen attributed to shallow microscopic crazing 

and the formation of small bubbles;

Fine crazing: A delicate network of very shallow 

surface cracks (similar to, but contrasted with, the 

internal crazing observable on fire altered chert) 

that form a network of closed polygons, probably 

caused by differential thermal expansion and/or 

cooling;

Deep surface cracking: Shallow crevices splitting 

the surface, probably due to the continued expansion and stretching of finely-crazed surfaces;

Fire fracture: Fracture initiating from within the 

object, resembling deliberate reduction, but lacking bulbs of percussion, and often resulting in the 

complete fracture of the artifact;

Incipient bubbles: Individual bubbles developing 

below the surface; and

Vesiculation:Abundant, interconnected bubbles on 

the surface and interior resulting in the “puffing 

up” of thermally altered obsidian; in its extreme 

form, vesiculation can transform artifacts into a 

frothy, Styrofoam-like mass.
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 103

Figure 4-3—Bloated and melted obsidian, oven heated 

to 800 °C (1472 °F) (sample courtesy of Anastasia 

Steffen).

Minor vesiculation has been reported on obsidian 

heated for one hour to 700 °C (1292 °F) (Shackley and 

Dillian 2002). Obsidian has melted at 760 °C (1400 °F) 

(Trembour 1979), or suffered extreme vesiculation 

between 815 °C and 875 °C (1499 °F and 1607 °F) 

(Steffen 2001, 2002) to 1000 °C (1832 °F) (Buenger 

2003) (figs. 4-3, 4-4). Extreme vesiculation has been 

Figure 4-4—On right: Extreme vesiculation in obsidian oven heated to 800 °C (1472 °F); 

sample also suffered severe weight and density loss. On left: Unheated obsidian from same 

source (samples courtesy of Anastasia Steffen).

noted in a backfire, a prescribed fire, and a campfire 

(Steffen 2002). Some of the most severe fire effects 

have been noted at quarry sites and source areas, such 

as those reported from the Dome Fire in New Mexico 

(Steffen 1999, 2001, 2002). 

Obsidian is particularly valued for its dating potential. Over time, freshly exposed surfaces on obsidian 

absorb atmospheric moisture, creating distinct hydration bands (Evans and Meggers 1960; Friedman and 

Smith 1960; Michels and Tsong 1980). After certain 

variables such as the obsidian source, soil moistures, 

soil pH, and temperatures have been accounted for, 

the thickness of the hydration band can indicate how 

long a surface on a piece of obsidian has been exposed 

to atmospheric moisture, offering a means for establishing prehistoric site chronologies and depositional 

integrity. A major factor influencing the integrity of 

hydration bands is elevated temperature, which forces 

resident moisture within the hydrated layer further 

into, as well as out of, the obsidian, creating wide, 

diffuse bands with unreadable or blurred margins 

(Jackson, personal communication 1997; Trembour 

1979, 1990). 

The percentage of obsidian with measurable bands 

recovered after wildland fires varies widely, from a low 

of only 9 percent to as high as 71 percent (Jackson and 

others 1994b; Pilles 1984; Skinner and others 1995, 

1997; Trembour 1990). Obsidian located in lightly 
104 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

Table 4-2—Thermally altered hydration bands on obsidian from a single source; subjected to varying temperatures 

for 1 hour (source: Skinner and others 1997).

Temperature °C Temperature °F Change to hydration band a

100 212 Band still distinct

200 392 Band width increased slightly, but still measurable

300 572 Band diffuse and difficult to read

400 752 Band no longer visible; faint blue tint present where band was

500+ 932+ No sign of hydration band

a Note: Changes in hydration bands can occur at lower temperatures if exposure time is long enough. For instance, hydration 

bands have been erased after heating for 12 hours at 200 °C (Solomon 2002).

fueled areas is more likely to retain hydration than 

those burned under moderate or heavy fuels (Benson 

2002; Deal 2002; Green and others 1997; Linderman 

1992; Origer 1996). Obsidian located on the ground 

surface is more likely to be altered, although Skinner 

and others (1997) reported that hydration was erased 

on obsidian at depths of 6 cm (2.4 in.) in one high intensity fire. 

Preliminary results of lab and prescribed fire experiments indicate, even at very low temperatures, extended 

exposure to heat can alter hydration bands (Benson 2002; 

Deal 2002; Linderman 1992; Solomon 2002). Hydration 

bands can become too diffused to accurately measure 

after 2 hours at 200 °C (392 °F) and after 1 hour at 

300 °C (572 °F) (Solomon 2002). Hydration bands 

have been erased completely after 12 hours at 200 °C 

(392 °F), and after 1 hour at 400 °C (752 °F) and 432 °C 

(809.6 °F) (Skinner and others 1997; Solomon 2002).

As part of a post-fire hydration study, Skinner with 

others (1997) conducted an experiment to determine 

heat effects to hydration on obsidian from a single 

source. Skinner and others (1997) used a single flake 

of obsidian cut into six pieces, with each piece heated 

for one hour at temperatures of 100 °C to 600 °C 

(212 °F to 1112 °F), in 100 °C (212 °F) increments. 

At 100 °C (212 °F), the hydration bands were still 

distinct. At 200 °C (392 °F), band width had increased 

slightly, but was still visible and measurable. At 

300°C (572°F), the band was difficult to measure, due 

to diffuse and indistinct diffusion fronts. At 400 °C 

(752 °F), the diffusion front was gone and the band 

was not measurable, but a slight bluish tint marked 

where the band had been. At 500 °C and 600 °C 

(932 °F and 1112 °F), there was no sign of a hydration band. Skinner and others (1997) concluded, in 

dating obsidian, interpretation problems may occur 

in cases of lower temperature exposures when band 

width is not completely erased, and the hydration 

age may be misread indicating an artifact is older 

than it really is. Conversely, with high temperature 

exposures, the band may be read to date an artifact 

as younger than it is. Similar interpretive problems 

have been reported by Trembour (1979, 1990) and 

Stevenson and others (1989b). 

Steffen (2002) demonstrated that intact hydration 

could exist on portions of fire-affected obsidian artifacts where hydration was erased from other areas 

of the artifacts, when objects were partially buried 

during a fire, or various surfaces experienced differential exposure to intense heat. She suggests that 

better recognition of fire effects to obsidian could aid 

in selecting specific surfaces of artifacts on which to 

focus hydration analysis. For instance, Steffen (2002) 

notes that the surface of artifacts displaying crazing or 

vesiculation may have been exposed to heat sufficient 

to alter measurable hydration (table 4-2).

Since high temperatures and smoldering fires of 

extended duration can destroy hydration bands, Deal 

(2002) speculated that intact obsidian hydration data 

could be used as an indicator of the absence of fire or 

heavy fuel loads in past landscapes. Many areas of the 

continent bear evidence of past fire return intervals 

shorter than those expected from lightning (Abrams 

2000; Agee 1993; Anderson 1993, 1999; Anderson and 

Moratto 1996; Barrett 1980; Barrett and Arno 1999; 

Blackburn and Anderson 1993; Bonnicksen 2000; Boyd 

1999; DeVivo 1990; Hicks 2000; Johnson 1999; Kay 

2000; Komarek 1968; Lewis 1973, 1980; MacLeery 

1994; Pyne 1982; Olson 1995, 1999; Turner 1999; Van 

Lear and Waldrop 1989; Yarnell 1998). In landscapes 

with frequent, periodic fires, such as areas that Native 

Americans were managing with fire, fuels would have 

been reduced to the point that areas burned at fairly 

low temperatures with very restricted fire residence 

times (Deal 2002). When obsidian is found in these 

areas, the presence of numerous hydration readings 

from surface settings could help support fire history 

reconstructions based on ethnographic accounts of 

deliberate burning (Deal 2002). However, if further 

research indicates hydration is re-establishing relatively quickly on fire altered obsidian (see Anderson and 

Origer 1997), the potential to use obsidian hydration 

to date past fires or to indicate prior fuel conditions 

may be compromised.
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 105

Several researchers have suggested past fire events 

are discernible on obsidian through retained alterations such as surface crazing, bubbling, partial 

vesiculation, diffused hydration bands (Friedman and 

Trembour 1983; Steffen 2002), or re-established hydration bands (Green 1999; Linderman 1992; Trembour 

1979, 1990). Some obsidian samples sent to labs for 

hydration studies display wide, unreadable, diffuse 

bands, with a second distinct, readable band retained 

on the surface of the sample (Jackson, personal communication 1997; Origer, personal communication 

1997), suggesting that the bands may have rehydrated 

after fires. Labs usually note the presence of diffused 

bands, and provide a micron reading on the intact, 

thinner, secondary hydration band, if one is present 

(Jackson, personal communication 1997). This micron 

reading may prove to mark a past high intensity fire 

event, rather than a past cultural (manufacturing) 

event, as has often been assumed. If one could use data 

from rehydrated obsidian to determine a site had been 

previously subjected to a fire, this could help explain 

why other data (pigments, protein residues, organic 

material) were missing.

Steffen (2002) makes the intriguing suggestion that 

multiple hydration rim measurements from single 

specimens may provide the heat exposure history 

of the specimen, allowing for reconstructions of fire 

histories. Researchers in northeastern California are 

plotting the distribution of what are believed to be 

rehydrated Archaic points as an indicator of where 

fires may have occurred in the past, and are using this 

data to reconstruct landscape-level fire histories (Green 

1999). Should it prove possible to secure dates for past 

fires from obsidian rehydration, these approaches could 

potentially extend fire history data well beyond the 

limit of several centuries reached when dating fires 

from tree cores. 

Basalt

Lentz (1996a) noted sooting, potlidding, oxidation, 

reduction, crazing, luster changes, and adhesions on 

lithic material, including basalt that had been in a 

wildfire. Eisler and others (1978) found basalt to be 

covered with a shiny, smooth, tar-like, brittle residue, 

with basalt boulders fractured into angular chunks, 

possibly due to rapid cooling. Tremaine and Jackson 

(1995) reported thermal fractures on basalt bifaces. 

Tremaine and Jackson (1995) were able to secure 

sourcing information on basalts using X-ray fluorescence after a high intensity fire (see also Skinner and 

others 1995 for similar results from another moderate to severe wildland fire). Blood residue analysis 

has been successful on basalt artifacts burnt at high 

intensities (Newman 1994; Tremaine and Jackson 

1995). Pilles (1984) noted that thermoluminescence 

dates from basalt could be as much as 24 percent more 

recent than expected, due to fires (see also Rowlett and 

Johannessen 1990). 

In lab experiments, Blackwelder (1927) reported 12 

periods of rapid heating and cooling of a small piece of 

basalt resulted in no effects, although a similar piece, 

heated to 300 °C (572 °F) showing no visible effects, 

fractured after being rapidly cooled in cold water only 

twice. Another specimen was heated to 300 °C (572 °F) 

for 30 minutes with no visible changes, but when the 

temperature was raised to 325 °C (617 °F), the basalt 

lost “a few thin flakes... from the sides” (Blackwelder 

1927). After heating basalt pieces to 375 °C (707 °F) 

for 30 minutes, a fourth sample “broke violently into a 

considerable number of pieces while still in the oven” 

(Blackwelder 1927). A block of basalt (presumably a 

cube about 7.6 cm (3 in) to a side) was heated to 150 °C 

(302 °F), with no visible changes. The temperature was 

then raised to 400 °C (752 °F), and after 10 minutes, 

flakes began to spall off, continuing “until the block 

was almost wholly reduced to fragments.” Another 

7.6 cm (3 in) basalt cube was placed in a furnace at 

600 °C (1112 °F), resulting in “small scales” breaking 

off after 3 minutes, and continuing for another 10 minutes (Blackwelder 1927). Blackwelder’s experiments 

suggest that basalt may be extremely susceptible to 

thermal damage in fires.

Quartz, Quartzite, Mudstone, Rhyolite, 

Siltstone, Slate, and Vitrified and Welded Tuff

Very little data is available on other kinds of toolstone. Quartz is an excellent thermal conductor and 

expands first in one direction, then another, which 

adds stress to the rock and leads to fractures (Luedke 

1992). Thermal expansion in quartz crystals, compared 

as a percent increase from the volume recorded at 

20 °C (68 °F), is noted as a 0.36 percent increase at 

100 °C (212 °F), 0.78 percent at 200 °C (392 °F), 1.9 

percent at 400 °C (752 °F) and 4.5 percent at 600 °C 

(1112 °F) (Dane 1942). Quartz undergoes changes in 

crystalline structure at 573 °C (1064 °F), and liquifies beyond the range of temperatures experienced in 

wildland fires, at 1723 °C (3133.4 °F) (Luedtke 1992). 

In lab experiments, Bennett and Kunzmann (1987) 

detected no weight loss to cryptocrystalline quartz at 

temperatures of less than 500 °C (932 °F), and Purdy 

(1974) found only 0.01 percent weight loss in a quartz 

crystal after 24 hours at 350 °C (662 °F). In areas with 

moderate to severe ground charring within one fire in 

the Sierra Nevada Mountains, milky and crystalline 

quartz was often covered with a black, shiny residue 

on all surfaces except those in contact with the ground, 

making it extremely difficult to identify material type 

during post-fire archaeological investigations (Deal 

1995, 2001; Tremaine and Jackson 1995). In less severe 

cases, quartz was blackened and discolored.
106 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

Figure 4-5—Granitic mano partially buried in 

soil within an area of intense ground charring 

from a wildland fire. Upper portion of mano is 

covered with a black, baked-on residue.

Figure 4-6—Millingstone altered in a wildland fire; note discolored areas and potlidded milling surface.

Figure 4-7—White granitic bedrock mortar outcrop showing 

discoloration and spalling following a wildland fire. Spalling 

can be severe at rock outcrops where the fuels are heavy and 

allowed to radiate heat for extended lengths of time. This is 

graphically illustrated by the damage underneath the 24-inch 

dbh ponderosa pine that fell and smoldered on this bedrock 

mortar outcrop.

Lentz (1996a) reported wildland fire effects (sooting, potlidding, oxidation, reduction, crazing, luster 

changes, and adhesions) to several different toolstone 

materials, including rhyolite, quartz, and quartzite 

sandstone. Most of these effects occurred on sites that 

experienced moderate and heavy charring. Fracturing, 

spalling, sooting, discoloration or oxidation has been 

reported on mudstone, quartzite, rhyolite and vitric 

tuff (Buenger 2003; Deal 1995; Hemry 1995; Lentz 

and others 1996). Surface-collected vitric tuff artifacts 

from a high intensity fire were successfully sourced 

using X-ray fluorescence (Jackson and others 1994b), 

and were found to retain immunological data in the 

form of protein residues (Newman 1994).

Ground Stone___________________

As discussed in the introduction, ground stone objects 

were used to pound, mash, crack, pulverize, grind or 

abrade minerals or plant and animal products. Little 

information regarding thermal effects to ground stone 

artifacts or the effects of fire on use-wear patterns is 

available in the literature (Adams 2002), although 

field observations and experiments indicate that objects manufactured of different materials will react 

differently to heating and cooling. For instance, Pilles 

(1984) reported sandstone manos that were severely 

cracked in wildfires, where basalt manos were only 

blackened. Lentz (1996) indicated that all five metates 

in a wildfire were affected by sooting, spalling, discoloration and/or adhesions, but the single mano was 

not altered. Portable mortars were rendered nearly 

unrecognizable due to extreme fracturing in one severe wildfire (Likins, personal communication, 1999), 

and in another, trough metates were broken in half 

(Jones and Euler 1986). Effects noted to pestles have 

included spalling, and blackening and discoloration 

to the point of obscuring material type identification 

(Deal 1995, 2001; Foster 1980; Tremaine and Jackson 

1995). See figures 4-5 and 4-6 for illustrations of a 

fire-affected mano and millingstone. Buenger’s experiments showed sandstone blocks exhibiting color 

change and minor surface spalling at 200 °C (392 °F), 

with spalling becoming more extensive in the 400 to 

500 °C (752 to 932 °F) temperature range (2003).

Outcrops and boulders containing mortars and milling features have been blackened, sooted, cracked, 

spalled, and exfoliated as a result of wildland fires 

(figs. 4-7, 4-8, 4-9) (Deal 1995, 2001). High fuel loading 

around boulders and rock walls has been reported to 
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 107

Figure 4-8—Note that the burning in the thicker butt-end of the 

log shown in figure 4-7 caused the most damage.

Figure 4-9—(a) Heavy brush (manzanita) growing at the base of this granite face resulted in severe localized spalling. (b) Spalled 

fragments remaining attached to this granite face were easily removed by the touch of a finger.

a b

contribute to extensive damage (Blakensop and others 1999; Hester 1989). In one fire, major impacts on 

mortar outcrops resulted in the exfoliation of large 

sheets of rock from the intense heat (Deal 1995). 

Blackening of mortar rock outcrops often hampered 

positive identification of the material type, although 

soil in mortar cups protected the grinding features from 

damage (Deal 1995, 2001). Additional effects expected 

at bedrock milling features would probably be similar to those reported elsewhere for boulders and cliff 

faces (Blakensop and others 1999; Eisler and others 

1978; Gaunt and others 1996; Hester 1989; Johnson 

and Lippincott 1989; Noxon and Marcus 1983; Roger 

1999; Romme and others 1993; Switzer 1974). Rock 

faces at petroglyph and pictograph panels can also be 

extensively damaged by spalling in fires. Removing 

fuels near rock outcrops and rock art panels can help 

limit these types of effects.
108 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

Thermal shock, reportedly from as little heat as that 

generated by sunlight, and particularly when coupled 

with the freezing of water in cracks and pores of rock, 

can lead to fracturing, exfoliating and degrading of 

granite, basalt and limestone (Schiffer 1987). Based 

on field observations and experiments, Blackwelder 

(1927) concluded that in many forested areas of the 

western United States, fire was the primary agent of 

fracturing, spalling, and weathering in boulders and 

rock outcrops, rather than diurnal changes in temperature. Blackwelder defined fire weathering features at 

boulders and outcrops as resembling curved wedges, 

plates or scales, 1 to 5 cm (0.4-2 in) thick, which often 

taper to a thin edge (1927). Based on experiments, 

Blackwelder (1927) reported many igneous rocks (basalt, andesite, porphyry) will withstand rapid heating 

and cooling up to 200 °C (392 °F) without any damage, 

but will begin breaking and fracturing when cooled after 

being heated to higher temperatures, while granites 

and quartzites tolerate slow temperature changes to 

as high as 800 °C (1472 °F).

Pollen, phytolyths, starches, ochre and other pigments, and protein residues from plants and the blood 

of small mammals have been detected on ground stone 

(Johnson 1993; Mikkelsen 1985; Traylor and others 

1983; Yohe and others 1991). These remains can be 

used to infer tool function, as well as the time of year 

a site was occupied. Fire and fire retardant can be expected to negatively impact these data types, although 

Tremaine and Jackson (1995) retrieved a granitic 

handstone from the surface of a severely burned site 

that yielded positive residue reactions for cat and acorn. 

Several other ground stone objects from this fire tested 

positive for acorn, deer, and rabbit (Newman 1994). 

Animal proteins can survive temperatures to at least 

800 °C (1472 °F) (Thoms 1995). Pollen is destroyed 

at temperatures over 300 °C (572 °F) (see Lentz and 

others 1996; Romme and others 1993; Timmons 1996).

Thermal Effects on Rock Used as 

Heating or Cooking Stones _______

Stone slabs were sometimes placed over fires or 

hearths and used for cooking. The slabs were often 

shaped, and sometimes prepared by the application of 

oil onto the cooking surface (Adams 2002). With use, 

cooking slabs became oxidized and blackened; with 

repeated heating and cooling, some slabs became 

friable and sloughed off on the underside (Adams 2002). 

Adams (2002) reports that the oil-saturated surfaces 

are sometimes the only part of these cooking stones 

recovered in archaeological sites. Stone pot rests used 

to support cooking vessels in fires and hearths also 

became blackened and fractured from heat (Adams 

2002).

Occasionally, ground stone was used as cooking 

stones in stone-boiling, which often led to discoloring, 

cracking or fracturing (although some pieces may have 

already been broken and only served a second career as 

a cooking stone; Johnson 1993). Conditions for stoneboiling are similar to burning situations in wildland 

or prescribed fires where fuels are heavy, the duration 

of heat is extended, and cold water, foam or retardant 

is dropped on heated stone. Post-fire studies in Mesa 

Verde National Park (Corbeil 2002) have shown that 

surfaces on porous rock like sandstone are vulnerable 

to damage from retardant and gel; phosphates in retardant can penetrate the rock and crystallize, turning 

the surface into a fine powder, and gel can dry and peel 

grains off of rock surfaces. In addition, retardant and 

gel entrap or absorb water, which can contribute to 

spalling. Distinguishing stone that has been fractured 

by wildland or prescribed fires from those previously 

fractured during stone-boiling or cooking hearths has 

proved problematic (Lentz and others 1996; Tremaine 

and Jackson 1995). Several researchers have suggested 

ways to differentiate between cultural heating and 

natural burning based on fracture patterns, location 

within particular fuel loading situations, analysis of 

organic residue, or luminescence analysis of mineral 

constituents (Hemry 1995; Kritzer 1995; Picha and 

others 1991; Rapp and others 1999; Seabloom and 

others 1991).

Experiments with rock types used in stone-boiling, 

roasting and oven pits, hearths, and sweat lodges have 

produced information concerning how various stone 

behaves when subjected to heat (Brink and others 

1986; Kritzer 1995; McDowell-Loudan 1983; Pierce 

1983, 1984; Wilson and DeLyria 1999;). Topping (1999) 

found that granitic rocks used to line fire pits “cracked 

along the axis parallel to the fire,” while those embedded in the soil did not crack. Of the rocks that cracked, 

those with multiple breaks were “subjected to the most 

violent temperature shock,” whereas those “subjected 

to the least amount of temperature shock” were only 

cracked roughly “in half” (1999). Blackwelder (1927) 

reported that a 2.7 kg (6 lbs) cobble of andesite, rapidly 

heated to 200 °C (392 °F) in an electric furnace, then 

rapidly cooled nine separate times, suffered no visible 

effects. A greywacke river pebble 7.6 cm (3 in) thick 

had “thin slabs split off along almost imperceptible 

planes of stratification” while still in the oven at 350 °C 

(662 °F) (Blackwelder 1927). Heating a piece of finegrained granite slowly for 2 hours to a temperature 

of 880 °C (1616 °F), and then cooling it slowly for 10 

hours, resulted in a darkening of its pink shade, and a 

single small crack on the surface (Blackwelder 1927).

Wilson and DeLyria (1999) determined that andesite 

and basalt rocks were more durable than quartzite 

in replicative studies with camas ovens/roasting pits. 
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 109

During three successive firings, several rocks exploded 

within the first hour at temperatures between 150 °C 

and 425 °C (302 °F and 797 °F). Most damage to the 

rock occurred during the initial firing, with each successive firing resulting in additional damage. Rocks 

in the oven were fractured by spalling off thin flat 

potlids, or by breaking into blocky chunks, with block 

breakage more common to quartzite than to igneous 

rocks, probably due to bedding planes in quartzite.

How certain rock reacted to different rates of heating and cooling was undoubtedly well known by people 

in the past, as particular types of stone were selected 

for different thermal applications. Pierce (1983, 1984) 

found that quartzite cooking stones heated quickly, 

boiled water quickly, fractured often when heated, 

but rarely fractured when placed in water. Sandstone 

also heated rapidly, did not fracture when heated, 

but “became so friable that large quantities of sand 

were dislodged from the exterior of the stone” (Pierce 

1983), and the more often sandstone was heated, the 

more it crumbled. Vesicular basalt took longer to 

heat, requiring twice the fuel of either quartzite or 

sandstone, but retained heat longer than either stone 

(Pierce 1984). Basalt tended to fracture when heated, 

more often than when cooled rapidly. Due to these 

different capacities for the storage and transfer of 

heat, as well as the friability of various rock types 

when heated, Pierce concluded that certain stones 

would more likely be selected for stone-boiling foods, 

while others, such as sandstone, were more suitable 

for hearth stones (1983). 

Other Stone Artifacts

Vessels, cooking pots, lamps, clubs, atlatl weights, net 

weights, loom weights, digging stick weights, pump drill 

weights, plummets, bolas, pipes, gamestones, chunkey 

stones, charmstones, pendants, ornaments, balls, 

beads, earspools, lip plugs, rings, bracelets, gorgets 

and effigy figurines are found in various archaeological 

contexts throughout North America. Relatively little 

research has been conducted on thermal effects on these 

objects, although it can be expected that they would 

be affected much like ground stone, as they were often 

fashioned of the same materials. In addition, plant, 

animal and mineral residues on any of these could be 

affected by fire.

Some additional stone material types used to make 

the above objects include agate, alabaster, aragonite, 

argillite, azurite, calcite, catlinite, chalk, fluorite, 

galena, gypsum, hematite, jasper, jade, kaolinite, magnesite, malachite, selenite, serpentine, slate, steatite 

and turquoise. Of these, agate and jasper, which are 

varieties of chert, can be expected to react to fires in the 

same manner described previously for chert. Steatite 

can be heated to high temperatures; it stores heat and 

releases it slowly, making it a good choice for cooking 

stones and cooking vessels. Steatite has been successfully sourced using instrumental neutron activation 

analysis (Truncer and others 1998), the accuracy of 

which might be impacted by high temperature fires. 

Catlinite, kaolinite, and chalk, used to make pipes or 

cooking vessels, have limited effects at low temperatures, often only discoloring and hardening. Little is 

known about the effects of fire on artifacts made of 

the other material types, although physical constants 

have been recorded for some with respect to thermal 

expansion, density at high temperatures, thermal 

conductivity and diffusivity, weight loss from heating, melting and transformation temperatures, heat 

fusion, and heat capacity (Birch and others 1942; Dane 

1942). Some of these materials turn color when heated. 

For instance, azurite and malachite turn black when 

heated, slate often whitens, gypsum becomes cloudy 

and opaque, magnesite turns a pinkish-brown or cream 

color (and was deliberately heated in the past to make 

beads more colorful), and turquoise turns white (Miles 

1963; Mottana and others 1977). Magnesite bubbles 

and releases gases prior to decomposing at 1000 °C 

(1832 °F), and calcite “dissociates” at 1000 °C (1832 °F) 

(Mottana and others 1977). 

Coal is a sedimentary rock, vulnerable to fire and 

readily combustible. In some areas in the past, coal was 

ground and polished into a variety of shapes including 

bear teeth, elk teeth, bird heads, bird claws, animal 

effigies, gorgets, beads, ornaments, pendants and discoidals (Cowin 1999; Fogelman 1991; Fundaburk and 

Foreman 1957; Graybill 1981; Griffin 1966; Redmond 

and McCullough 1996; Turnbow 1992). Cannel coal is 

highly volatile, ignites easily, burns with a luminous 

flame, and was once used as a substitute for candles 

(Bates and Jackson 1984; Yarnell 1998). Lignite, a soft 

brownish-black coal that becomes pasty when heated, 

and jet, a dense, black lignite that can be highly polished, were used as inlay on shell (Miles 1963), or made 

into animal forms. In the ground, coal veins ignited 

during wildfires can smolder for years after ignition 

(Wettstaed and LaPoint 1990), and several coal mines 

have been burning for more than a century (Maclean 

1999; Pyne 1997).

Minerals such as mica and copper were also used 

prehistorically. Sheet mica was cut and crafted into 

spectacular shapes, such as bird talons, serpents, 

hands and bear claws, and was overlain decoratively 

on a variety of ornaments (Jennings 1974; Prufer 1964; 

Peschken 1998). Some mica objects were decorated with 

incising and painting; fire can smudge and destroy 

pigments on these delicate objects. When heated, mica 

loses water, becoming more friable and less flexible. 

Although little else is known about fire effects to mica, 

the thermal expansion of muscovite mica has been 

measured at increasing temperatures. Compared to its 
110 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

size at 20 °C (68 °F), it expands 0.03 percent at 100 °C 

(212 °F), with expansion to 0.15 percent at 200 °C 

(392 °F); 0.37 percent at 400 °C (752 °F); 0.66 percent 

at 600 °C (1112 °F); 1.3 percent at 800 °C (1472 °F); 

and 1.55 percent at 1000 °C (1832 °F) (Dane 1942). 

Expansion can lead to exfoliation of mica.

Native copper melts at 1082 °C (1979.6 °F) (Mottana 

and others 1977). Copper was quarried prehistorically, 

and in some regions, fire and cold water may have 

been used to separate copper from the surrounding 

rock overburden (Quimby 1960), after which it was 

cold-worked and heated prior to shaping (Farquhar 

and others 1998; Jennings 1974). Copper nuggets were 

hammered into thin sheets, which were beaten together 

to make thicker objects, and shaped by abrading (Lewis 

and Kneberg 1958) into awls, punches, chisels, flakers, 

harpoons, spear points, knives, adze bits, panpipes, 

bells, plaques, rings, effigies, breastplates, beads, ear 

spools, headdresses and hair ornaments. Copper was 

also used to overlay wooden and shell objects such as 

gorgets, pendants and earspools. Thin sheets were 

sometimes embossed by pressing the copper over a 

carved wooden die, painted, or decorated with feathers 

or fabric (Burroughs 1998; Fundaburk and Foreman 

1957; Lewis and Kneberg 1958; Prufer 1964). Fire can 

be expected to distort, obscure or destroy decorative 

elements on copper.

Corrosion and oxidation often provide a protective 

surface on copper at archaeological sites, unless heating 

cracks the corrosive film and allows it to grow inward 

(Schiffer 1987). As temperatures increase, corrosion 

rates increase, with wood ash accelerating corrosion 

(Schiffer 1987). Copper used in modern applications 

discolors with a dark red or black oxide that thickens 

under higher heating conditions and with longer heat 

exposures (NFPA 1998). Prior to melting, copper 

blisters, exhibits surface distortions, and forms blobs 

and drops on its surface (NFPA 1998). After melting, 

the copper re-solidifies, forming irregularly shaped 

and sized globules that are often tapered or pointed 

(NFPA 1998). Several techniques have recently been 

used to source copper, including neutron activation 

(Julig and others 1992), X-ray fluorescence (Wager 

and others 1998), and thermal ionization mass spectrometry (Woodhead and others 1998). It is probable 

that fire would affect the accuracy of these analytical 

techniques.

Native American objects made with smelting and 

casting techniques adopted from French, English, and 

Spanish colonists include lead, pewter and brass pipes; 

silver bow guards and other silver work; and steatite 

and catlinite pipes inlaid with pewter and lead. These 

would be thermally altered in fires in the same manner as materials described in the chapter on historic 

artifacts (chapter 6). These objects date from the late 

1600s through the present (Furst and Furst 1982).

Implications for Cultural Resource 

Protection and Fire Planning ______

The key factors that seem to affect the nature and 

extent of fire damage to archaeological resources, 

including lithic artifacts, are fire intensity, duration 

of heat, and penetration of heat into soil (Traylor and 

others 1983). Research shows that as temperatures 

increase, so do effects, and that effects increase as the 

length of time exposed to heat increases; if exposure 

time is long enough, effects can occur to stone tools 

even at reduced temperatures. Buenger’s fire simulations show that the two most important components 

of the fire environment resulting in thermal effects to 

surface artifacts are fuel loads and wind velocity (2003). 

Increased fuel loads offer longer heating times, and 

increasing winds bend the flames closer to the ground 

where surface artifacts are located. Insulation from 

heat, even with a few centimeters of soil or incompletely 

consumed fuel, is often adequate in reducing impacts 

(Anderson and Origer 1997; Buenger 2003; Lissoway 

and Propper 1988; Picha and others 1991; Pilles 1984; 

Seabloom and others 1991). The mass of lithic artifacts 

is another factor determining the nature of thermal 

effects. More massive artifacts are more susceptible 

to fracture from thermal shock than thin ones, due to 

uneven heating and cooling (Bennett and Kunzmann 

1985; Luedtke 1992; Perkins 1985). 

Surface artifacts generally suffer the most damage in 

fires, although many will often retain data potentials, 

even on sites burned numerous times in the past, or that 

have recently been subjected to wildfires or prescribed 

burns. Some lithic and ground stone scatters, as well as 

other types of archaeological sites, are strictly limited 

to surface contexts, due to shallow soils or depositional 

history. These sites are obviously more threatened by 

fire than those with deep subsurface deposits. Since 

even shallow soils offer some protection to artifacts, 

one can conclude that subsurface materials will generally retain the most data potential following wildfires. 

However, the surface of a site at any given point in 

time can change as a result of numerous agents, 

including deflation, erosion, deposition, windthrown 

trees, animal burrowing and human activities. These 

alterations in site stratigraphy are often not obvious, 

even when the site is excavated. In areas of the country 

where bioturbation and windthrown trees commonly 

mix soil deposits, the material on the surface has often 

been found to reflect the full temporal range of site occupation, providing a snapshot of the site’s chronology 

(Jackson 1999; Jackson and others 1994a).

Prescribed burning will result in some predictable 

loss of various types of data associated with stone 

artifacts. Losses can be anticipated to be the greatest 

for prescribed burns planned in areas that have not 

had prior fuels management projects. However, if 
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 111

fuels can be reduced on sites prior to burning—either 

through hand removal of downed fuels or hand thinning (Siefkin 2002), or by mechanical means when 

appropriate (see Jackson 1993; Jackson and others 

1994a)—data loss will be reduced. Collecting surface 

samples prior to burning would secure the data possibly impacted by the prescribed burn. However, in 

many areas, fuels are now so dense that the presence and nature of surface artifactual materials are 

unknown. Burn prescriptions can also be designed 

to reduce potential effects. For example, a head fire 

might cause fewer effects to artifactual materials 

on the ground surface than a cooler, slower-moving 

backing fire, due to the increased fire residence time 

of the latter (Smith 2002).

Since fire suppression and exclusion began, many 

areas of the country have lost numerous fire cycles. 

These lost fire cycles represent a tremendous fuel 

buildup, with a resultant increase in fire intensity, 

burn times, and fire severity (USDA 1995), and increased threats to cultural resources (Benson 1999; 

Blakensop and others 1999; Gaunt and others 1996; 

Hester 1989; Kelly 1981; Kelly and Mayberry 1980; 

Lentz and others 1996; Lissoway and Propper 1988; 

Pilles 1984; Siefkin 2002; Wettstaed and LaPoint 

1990). Since fire suppression activities usually result 

in the greatest disturbance and data loss on sites, it 

is imperative that we work toward removing fuels 

proactively to reduce these effects. It is ironic that in 

many cases, and for several artifact classes including 

stone tools, frequent past burning may have helped 

preserve certain types of data resident in artifacts, 

while today’s wildland fires and prescribed burns are 

impacting and destroying the same data, because of 

higher fuel loading. 

Future studies need to explicitly state what criteria 

are being used to determine effects, and what is not 

being analyzed. Attempts should be made to standardize data related to effects, including fire environment 

and fire severity, as well as alterations to artifacts. 

Prescribed fire experiments need more stringent 

methods for monitoring and reporting burn temperatures, relative humidities, fuel and soil moistures, fuel 

loading, fire intensity, fire severity, ground charring, 

and the length of time that various surface and buried 

artifacts are subject to heat. Effects that now appear 

inconsistent or contradictory might be found to align 

more closely, if we can understand how the variables 

present in the fire environment affect lithic artifacts 

and other cultural resources.

USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 113

Chapter 5:

Fire Effects on Rock Images and 

Similar Cultural Resources

Roger E. Kelly

Daniel F. McCarthy

Introduction ____________________

Throughout human global history, people have 

purposely altered natural rock surfaces by drilling, 

drawing, painting, incising, pecking, abrading and 

chiseling images into stone. Some rock types that 

present suitable media surfaces for these activities are 

fine-grained sandstones and granites, basalts, volcanic 

tuff, dolomites, and limestones. Commonly called rock 

“art,” depiction of patterns, images, inscriptions, or 

graphic representations might be considered today 

as ‘artistic’ as is Old World Paleolithic “cave art” for 

example, but most of those early originators attached 

different cultural values to these expressions. Historic 

rock inscriptions made by literate persons are also of 

high value as “documents.” 

Images on rock are subject to natural weathering 

by several processes: freeze/thaw, wet/dry, heat/cold, 

wind-carried erosion materials, natural salts and minerals, ultraviolet rays, direct moisture and atmospheric 

conditions (fig. 5-1). Vandalism to these resources is a 

very serious threat in many areas (fig. 5-2). Rock surfaces may also exhibit numerous small, shallow pits or 

cupules, formed by pecking, chipping or abrading, or 

pecked curvilinear nucleated cupules (PCN) (fig. 5-3). 

The cupules may be in clusters or patterns on vertical 

or horizontal rock surfaces. Accessible rock surfaces 

may also be worked to produce bedrock mortars (BRM) 

and concave milling surfaces for processing food materials. Stones may be moved to form images, patterns, 

complex designs or mounds. Some researchers use 

the term “geoglyph” to refer to these human changes 

to ground surfaces, often as very large and striking 

images when visualized from above (fig. 5-4). In arid 

lands, stony ground surfaces were altered to achieve 

a contrasting image to lighter colored soils below dark 

desert gravels. These cultural activities are best considered as patterned behavior, not aimless or haphazard 

in terms of placement, pictorial content, and variety 

through time and space. Important evidences of image 

chronologies may result from re-use of rock surfaces, 

re-painting, and younger designs superimposed over 

earlier ones (Hedges 1990).

We distinguish between pictographs (painted expressions using mineral colors or charcoal, often with a 

binder material) and petroglyphs or images made by 

pecking, carving, abrading, scratching, and incising, or 

combinations of these methods. Petroglyphs are usually created with these methods to remove darkened 

appearance of naturally weathered stone surfaces to 

expose lighter colored rock matrix to achieve a contrasting image. Both types of images may occur in 

mixed expressions or only one technique may appear 

dominant. 
114 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

Figure 5-1—Natural weathering processes in action. Top: Exfoliation on granite. Bottom: Natural 

spalling at the Tate Site, Lincoln National Forest (photos, Forest Service, Lincoln National Forest).
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 115

Figure 5-2—(a,b) Natural weathering and vandalism at Inscription Canyon, San Bernardino County, California, 1971. a) Lichen 

growth beginning to obscure petroglyphs. b) Vandalism, attempt to remove the petroglyphs. (c,d) Vandalism, defaced petroglyph 

panel at Keyhole Sink on the Kaibab National Forest (photos, Forest Service, Southwestern Region, Kaibab National Forest).

a

b

c

d
116 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

Figure 5-3—Cupule boulders, both examples from Riverside 

County, California.

Figure 5-4—Examples of intaglios or geoglyphs. Top: Blythe 

(California) Intaglios along the Colorado River at site CARIV-14. Bottom: Close-up of one of the figures.

Setting and Placement

The setting and placement of these cultural resources 

are often away from customary habitation and may 

be seen at almost any location. Rock images may be 

within caves, rock shelters, or overhanging cliffs where 

vegetation may flourish as potential fuels. Images or 

patterns may be on above-grade outcrops, vertical surfaces, or at-grade horizontal locations, on expanses of 

exposed bedrock found along drainages, ridgelines, or 

topographic features related to water sources. In some 

locations, pecked handholds, steps, or trail markers 

may exist with modern hiking trails and other access 

routes. Since bedrock-milling mortars are associated 

with food gathering and processing, evidence of temporary camping may also be present in surrounding 

mineral soils. 

Many examples of complex rock images are associated with topographic features, such as canyons, 

draws, and ridges that support growth of potential 

fuels today and provide access routes across terrain 

into higher elevations. Some examples will be found 

in isolated spots, often with a landscape view, but others are within modern urban/suburban environments 

(Bostwick 1998). In some western States, circular rock 

alignments indicate temporary shelters and would not 

be called geoglyphs. Images or inscriptions on tree 

trunks—sometimes called “dendroglyphs”—are unique 

historic resources documenting historic land uses in 

timbered regions (chapter 6; Coy 1999). Recognized 

historic trails are sometimes documented by travelers’ names and dates on trees or rocks that may be 

absent in historical records but may be accompanied 

by historical archaeological materials at campsites.
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 117

Heritage and Research Values _____

Heritage and research values of rock images, geoglyphs, and other associated prehistoric or historic 

visual depictions are characterized by the following 

values that justify active preservation and conservation management: 

♦ Cultural values for contemporary tribal communities as spiritual places where ancestral 

practitioners conducted necessary ceremonies, 

noted astronomic observations, or recorded past 

tribal events (for example, Writing-on-Stone 

Provincial Park, Alberta, Canada; Saddle Rock 

Ranch Pictograph Site within the Santa Monica 

Mountains of California illustrating Spanish 

horsemen; Cave of Life petroglyphs in Petrified 

Forest National Park, Arizona). 

♦ Design elements indicate past land use by 

ancestral social units who marked places on 

customary lands by producing visual signs (for 

example, Newspaper Rock petroglyphs of Hopi 

clan symbols in Petrified Forest National Park, 

Arizona; Hawaiian “ahupua’a” or land use unit 

boundaries (Cox and Stasack 1970)).

♦ Rock image elements distributed over an area or 

region indicate connections by past native peoples 

to lands their descendants may not occupy today. 

Traditional leaders who attribute sacred values 

to lands as witnessed by “rock art” sites consider 

these resources as very special identifiers. Such 

places are included in the May 1996 Presidential 

Executive Order 13007 “Sacred Places,” directing 

Federal agencies to preserve such locations as 

public heritage values to all citizens. 

♦ Most serious researchers use non-destructive 

and detailed photographic and other methods of 

recording, assessing, and describing rock images 

and geoglyphs, which recognize the complexity 

and variety of these cultural expressions over time 

and space (Bock and Bock 1989). American Rock 

Art Research Association (ARARA) members, 

affiliated local interest groups, and professional 

researchers need to follow high standards of 

field work and publications. Previous methods 

such as chalking, rubbings, crayon use, castings 

or applications of latex coatings, even kerosene 

washes and other embellishments should always 

be avoided (Labadie 1990; Lee 1990; Whitley 

1996a). 

♦ Use of ethnological information by some leading 

researchers has produced innovative studies that 

link stone images to native belief systems, philosophies of life, individual expressions, and past 

intergroup events (Crotty 1990; Robbins 2001; 

Whitley 1994, 1996b). Rock art sites and obsidian 

artifacts are potential sources for collaborative 

ethnographic studies regarding Native American 

uses of fire for manipulation of environments 

(Arguello and Siefkin 2003; Keeley 2002; Loyd 

and others 2002; Underwood and others 2003; 

Williams 2001). 

♦ Native and non-native inscriptions, trail markers, and food preparation stations have values for 

interpreting environmental history, landscape 

change, travel prior to modern methods, and adaptation of subsistence practices by inhabitants 

through changing land use patterns.

♦ Inclusion of rock image resource in Federal or 

State historic property registers as significant 

public heritage sites denotes official recognition 

that triggers specific preservation compliance actions required by legislation, as well as defining 

public education values (Marymor 2001). 

♦ Dating of rock art through scientific methods 

depends on assessing the integrity of the resource 

in terms of contamination, physical damage and 

presence of datable organic materials. Notable 

successes have been developed to give radiocarbon age determinations as numerical values as 

well as relative (“older than” or “younger than”) 

ages (Chaffee and others 1994; Dorn 1994, 2001; 

Francis 1994). 

Fire Effects_____________________

Some major rock image examples and related archaeological resources clustered together on public 

land areas may be described or formally documented 

in existing technical reports, electronic or paper 

archaeological site inventory records, or summaries 

of resources in a protected status (Labadie 1990; McCarthy 1990). But often, essential information about 

location, characteristic, and existing condition is not 

readily available during emergency situations. Field 

crews will probably encounter isolated, poorly known, 

or undocumented ‘rock art’ on vertical or ground surface outcrops that may also include bedrock mortars 

or grinding surfaces. Protection actions such as those 

suggested in the Mitigation and Protection section 

should be taken in these situations, under guidance 

from a fire management trained Cultural Resource 

Specialist. Some effects are short term while others 

are longer duration; temporary changes such as soot 

deposits may be removed naturally. Untrained persons 

should not attempt direct conservation measures.

Rock shelters, overhangs, and vertical rock faces 

containing rock image panels may suffer two types 

of damage from wildland fires: thermal effects from 

energy (heat) absorbed and depositional damage from 
118 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

exposure to smoke, soot, ash, smudging, and tars as 

combustion products (Loyd and others 2002). The 

energy may result from either radiation or convection but higher temperatures are associated with the 

former (chapter 2). Common results are discoloration, 

exfoliation or spalling, and heat absorption (fig. 5-5). 

Smudging occurs when combustion products precipitate on or adhere to exposed rock surfaces. Chemical 

and physical changes are probably caused by heat 

penetration and charring of organic pigment binder 

materials of painted elements. Spalled or ‘pot-lidded’ 

surfaces or the forming of minute cracks in fine grained 

rock types occur when normally absorbed moisture 

becomes heated, causing rock grains and moisture 

molecules to expand and lose normal adhesion.

Illegal campfires in spaces such as rock shelters or 

caves 30.5 meters (100 feet) or less from images can also 

produce extensive spalling, sooting, or other damage 

to natural rock surfaces, but restoration is possible in 

some cases (fig. 5-6). Prevention of such illegal camping 

should be a management and enforcement priority.

Wildland and prescribed burn suppression activities including use of heavy equipment has resulted in 

severe damage to ground level ‘rock art’ made upon 

exposed bedrock formations (fig. 5-7, 5-8, 5-9). Foam, 

fire retardant, or water applied during mop up operations to still hot rock surfaces can also cause spalling. 

Organic materials in some retardant gels remain on 

image surfaces or fertilize micro or macro-plant growth. 

Figure 5-5—Spalling and exfoliation caused 

by fires. Top: Spalling of rock art following 

the 2003 Hammond Fire, Manti LaSal NF, 

Utah (Johnson 2004). Pictograph damaged 

by heat from forest fire (photo Clay Johnson, 

Ashley NF). Bottom: Typical exfoliation of 

granitic rock where fuels are nearby and 

burning very hot. No cultural features were 

affected.
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 119

Figure 5-6—Examples of graffiti and illegal campfire built at the base of a rock painting 

at site (CA-RIV-45) in Tahquitz Canyon, Riverside County, California.

Figure 5-7—Fire-damaged petroglyph in Hawaii.
120 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

Figure 5-8—Fire-affected milling equipment noted after the Louisiana Fire Incident in 2002. Top: Granite 

handstone. Note most of the upper worn, polished surface has weathered away. Bottom: Schist metate 

surface with only small worn and polished areas remaining.
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 121

Figure 5-9—Cupule boulder damaged during the Louisiana Fire Incident in 2002. Top: View showing 

the north rock exposure. Cupule Panel 1 shown by arrows and extent of damage to rock surface. 

Bottom: Detail of damage to panel. 
122 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

Certain types of lava flows are thinly covered by fragile silica coatings—which native peoples removed to 

produce petroglyphs—that are very easily damaged 

by foot traffic, hose lines, or hand tool use. Stone arrangements or ‘geoglyphs’ can also receive damage 

from machinery, hand lines, fire camps, heliopads, 

and vehicle parking. 

Field Examples _________________

Over the past two decades, at least 20 examples of 

‘rock art’ resources impacted by wildland fires or vandalism have been reported within several States (Kelly 

and McCarthy 2001, 2002). While these examples are 

only a few from an unknown number of “rock art” resources impacted by fires, they illustrate fire-generated 

impacts on different rock types and images, issues of 

fuel loading near archaeological resources, and postfire observations.

Hawaii

On the Island of Hawaii, brush firefighting in March 

1990 included zig-zag dozer tracks over a’a lava flows 

with numerous native Hawaiian petroglyphs, destroying and severely damaging scores of unrecorded 

elements (Lee and Stasack l999). Burning of private 

sugar cane fields prior to harvesting resulted in generation of high heat from long flame length fires and 

accumulation of ash and soot on rock art examples 

(J. Mikilani Ho, personal communication; NPS 1999); 

the use of bulldozers for this activity also resulted in 

damage to basalt outcrops with rock art. Examples of 

increased visibility for rock art, as well as covering by 

fresh flows, ash, or acidic moisture are documented for 

Hawaii Volcanoes National Park (Edward and Diane 

Stasack, personnel communication, 1999). 

Arizona

Within Coconino National Forest, the Deadman Wash 

locality contains 48 rock art sites, which were partially 

subjected to a wildland fire in 1996 (fig. 5-10) (Kolber 

l998). One site was heavily damaged by high heat on 

basalt surfaces, causing exfoliation and substantial to 

total loss of element clusters (fig. 5-11).

Figure 5-10—Lava flows on the Island 

of Hawaii are often exposed to damage 

from fire, fire suppression, and other 

cultural practices (a) Puuloa Petroglyphs 

(b) Puuloa Petroglyphys; (c) Puako 

Petroglyphs.

a
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 123

b

c

Figure 5-10—(Continued)
124 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

Figure 5-11—Heavy fuel accumulation and consumption around basalt outcrops at the Deadman Wash 

site Coconino National Forest, Arizona.

Texas

Hueco Tanks State Historical Park near El Paso 

contains spectacular American Indian rock art dating 

from Archaic period to historic Mescalero Apaches, Kiowas, and Comanche tribes. Guided visitor tours and a 

management program, including conservation projects, 

are positive steps ensuring preservation and study of 

these well-known examples. Soot coatings and sprayed 

graffiti at one site were treated with mixed results, but 

more elements were revealed after smoke blackening 

was removed (Ronald Ralph, personal communication, 

2000). A recent fast-moving fire at the Alibates Flint 

Quarries National Monument near Amarillo caused 

spalling of dolomite outcrops and boulders, some of 

which contained rock art; no images were damaged. 

Whether high heat caused micro-fracturing of stone 

surfaces near petroglyphs or not is unclear but may 

increase deterioration of the images in the future (Dean 

1999). 

California

Within Cleveland National Forest, a single pictograph panel of an anthropomorphic figure—a ‘rake’ 

pattern—and other images were subjected to a high 

temperature fire from nearby fuels (Cavaioli 1991). 

Only two elements were undamaged and red hematite 

elements were discolored and altered from rock surface spalling and high temperatures. In 1982, another 

rock art site was damaged from spalling due to burning of heavy fuels nearby and target shooting later. 

At Vanderburg Air Force Base, burning of brush in 

proximity to a major rock image site caused spalling of 

rhyolite surfaces and loss of painted design elements 

(Hyder and others 1996). In the 1999 “Willow Fire” 

in San Bernardino NF, intense heat caused blistering 

of two unrecorded painted panels and loss of details 

(McCarthy 2000).

In the southeastern California Mojave Desert, Bureau of Land Management’s Black Mountain locality, 

fast-burning grass fires did not alter rock art on basalt 
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 125

outcrops but did result in greater visibility and light 

smudging, which faded with time. An intentional 

campfire set in the early 1990s near a small rock art 

panel on local granite resulted in significant spalling 

and blackening, which faded later. Damage to rock 

art on granite surfaces depends on fire heat, nearby 

fuels, and rate of ignition (Sally Cunkleman, personal 

communication, 1999).

Colorado

Mesa Verde National Park contains superlative 

ancestral Pueblo rock art associated with village communities occupied between the 12th and 14th centuries. 

During the 1996 Chapin 5 wildfire (Sidebar 5-1), three 

panels on the sandstone of ‘Battleship Rock’ sustained 

discoloration and extensive spalling (Cole 1997; FloydHanna and others 1997-98). This significant rock art 

site had been documented several times since 1989 by 

chalking, photography, and written descriptions, tracings, and replication for Visitor Center display. Of the 

three major panels, two sustained extensive damage 

as compared to earlier documentation. Standing trees, 

brush, and considerable duff fuel loading indicated 

absence of fire until 1996 in the vicinity of Battleship 

Rock. A monitoring program has been instituted to 

watch further changes since Park management, in 

consultation with local tribal authorities, decided not 

to attempt stabilization or restoration of damaged 

surfaces (Desert News Archives, AP: December 1, 

1996). 

A 9,000-acre fire occurred in 1996 within Comanche 

and Cimarron National Grasslands, near La Junta. 

A ‘Volunteer in Time’ project revisited 19 of 77 sites 

to assess any fire damage (Mitchell l997). About 16 

unrecorded rock art panels were observed but only 

two sustained damage. Close proximity of standing 

trees as fuels to rock surfaces (0.3 to 0.6 meters [1 to 

2 feet]) accounted for spalling of sandstone rock faces, 

fortunately without images. Spot fires and light ground 

fuels resulted in minimal damage to sites and rock 

art panels but exposed additional sites for recording 

(Mitchell 1997). 

Utah

In 1981, Canyonlands National Park sustained a 

200-acre wildland fire named for a petroglyph panel 

called ‘Four Faces’ (Noxon and Marcus l983). While not 

damaging the four elaborate anthropomorphic figures 

directly, nearby sandstone exposures sustained smoke 

blackening and extensive exfoliation due to moisture 

expansion within the local type of sandstone. Pinyonjuniper fuels in quantity and short distances from the 

Four Faces panel provided sufficient heat source for 

convection transfer to sandstone cliff faces at a height 

of 12.2 meters (40 feet) above ground surfaces.

Sidebar 5-1—Rock Art

Chapin 5 Fire, Mesa Verde National Park, Colorado, 

August 17–24, 1996

References: Floyd-Hanna and others (1997); Ives and 

others (2002)

General Information:

•	 Elevation: 2,078.7 m (6,820 ft) at the south 

end canyon to 2,561.8 m (8,405 ft) in the north 

rim of the mesa

•	 Vegetation: Ranges from shrub communities, 

to pinyon-juniper woodland, to semi-desert 

vegetation on shale outcrops at the lower 

south end of the mesa; riparian vegetation in 

canyon bottoms

•	 Topography: Chapin V Mesa slopes from north 

to south and is cut by canyons

•	 Type of study: Post-fire assessment

Fire Description:

•	 Temperature range: 15.5-29.4 °C (60-85 0F)

•	 Duration: 7 days

•	 Relative humidity: 23-85%

•	 Intensity: 23% of area burned at high intensity, 

55% at moderate burn intensity, and 18% at 

low burn intensity; 4% unburned area 

•	 Type of fire: wildland

•	 Energy Release Component (ERC): 39-70

•	 Burning Index (BI): 19-67

The Chapin 5 fire occurred in August of 1996 and 

burned 19.3 km2 (4,781 acres) of Mesa Verde National 

Park. Red-carded archaeologists worked closely with 

firefighters and monitored fire suppression impacts to 

heritage resources. About 150 sites, including 75 previously unknown sites, were encountered during suppression activities. About 295 sites were known to exist in 

the burn area and an additional 366 unrecorded sites 

were located after the burn (USDI 1999). Sites included 

numerous masonry pueblos, 27 cliff dwellings, pithouse 

complexes, agricultural features, burial sites, historic 

summer shelters, hogans, and sweat lodges (USDI 1996). 

The fire burned two of the four Battleship Rock petroglyphpanels, causing extensive damage (figs. 5-S1, 5-S2). 

Following the fire, the ground surrounding the petroglyph 

panels was covered with ash. Spalling and discoloration 

(reddish, black, and gray areas were noted) affected some 

glyph elements to the point that they could not be recognized as complete forms. Fragments of spalled sandstone 

lay at the base of panels (Ives and others 2002).
126 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

Immediately after the fire, a Burned Area Emergency Rehabilitation (BAER) team assessed the extent of burn damage. They submitted an emergency treatment plan in September of 1996 and fieldwork began shortly thereafter. Teams 

of archaeologists and hydrologists worked for over three field seasons to assess archaeological sites and establish erosion 

control. They adapted new methods of damage assessment from methods established at Bandelier National Monument 

after the 1996 Dome Fire. Hazard trees were cut down, water-bars constructed and excelsior strips laid over the ground 

to prevent soil erosion and promote vegetation growth. Much of the burned area was also seeded with grass. A 1999 

assessment (USDI 1999) found the project successful. Significant damage to sites had been avoided, 661 sites had been 

assessed and 333 had been treated to prevent damage. 

Figure 5-S1—Direct effects of the 1996 Chapin-5 Fire, Mesa Verde National Park, Colorado on the Battleship Rock petroglyph; 

Panel 3R, before (1989) (a) and after (2006) (b) (compliments of S.J. Cole).

Figure 5-S2—Direct effects of the 1996 Chapin-5 Fire, Mesa Verde National Park, Colorado on the Battleship Rock petroglyph 

Panel 2L, before (1989) (a) and after (2006) (b) (compliments of S.J. Cole).

a b

a b
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 127

Washington

In 1997, Horsethief State Park at Dallesport, sustained a fire caused by a train spark. Images on basalt 

outcrops along the northern shoreline were damaged 

and the glassy or silica-like surfaces were exfoliated 

by heat.

Kentucky

In Daniel Boone National Forest, a wildland fire 

extensively damaged one rock art site (site number 

15Ja234). 

Nevada

In eastern Nevada, a rock art site composed of several panels within a series of overhangs at Reed Cabin 

Summit was totally destroyed by brush fueled fires. 

Rhyolite rock surfaces exfoliated, spalled, and were 

smoke-blackened, obscuring or rendering the images 

destroyed. Some informal documentation had been 

done earlier but was not systematic. An arson fire 

in Condor Gulch also impacted known rock art sites 

in similar ways (Mark Henderson, Bureau of Land 

Management, personal communication, 2001). 

Field Examples: Observations

♦ Major fire damage to these resources and natural 

stone used in the production of the cultural images 

is usually left untreated and unrestored. Decisions 

not to carry out conservation or restoration actions 

seem based on assumed lack of fiscal resources, 

incorrectly assuming that such damage cannot 

be treated or restored, and that loss of resource 

integrity is an acceptable consequence of a natural 

process for wildland fires. Some technical studies 

on chemical and physical applications to damaged 

rock art show that conservation and treatment 

are possible (Dean 1999; Grisafe and Nickens 

1991a, b; Ralph 1990; Silver 1982). Funds for 

mitigation of fire damage to cultural resources 

are included in the Burned Area Emergency 

Response (BAER) program. Reprogramming of 

fiscal year funds to meet specific cultural resource 

preservation needs should be considered. In some 

cases, a professional conservator’s assessment to 

let natural processes “clean” images temporarily 

obscured may be the best decision. 

♦ Some reported field examples describe post-fire 

characteristics of a rock image resource, without 

comparison to pre-fire condition or estimates of 

convection-radiation energy levels reached, or 

other fire behavior data at the location. Those 

field reports that offer a “before and after” comparison show extensive discoloration, exfoliation, 

and greater exposure of the cultural resource for 

potential vandalism. When heat levels or duration 

times were comparatively mild, soot deposits were 

successfully removed and the resource returned 

to pre-fire condition.

♦ Sandstone, granite and rhyolite parent rock types 

suffered damage from high levels of energy releases from nearby fuels and fire behaviors, but 

images on basalt or lava rock types sustained 

only light soot deposits and temporary increase 

to visibility. Rock art on Hawaiian lava flows, 

however, often sustains considerable damage 

from ash, toxic moistures, soot deposits from 

fresh flows, and use of fire-fighting equipment 

during periodic field fires (fig. 5-12) (Kelly and 

McCarthy 2001).

♦ Useful site inventories of ‘rock art’ resources exist at some institutions (for example, Rock Art 

Archive of UCLA’s Institute of Archaeology; Sink 

1998) and compiled bibliographies have been 

annotated (McLane l993). Specific management 

plans for rock art resources are few but offer better 

stewardship regarding public access, fire management, preservation, and research (Labadie 

1990; Lee 1990; Marymor 2001; Whitley 1996b).

♦ Preservation strategies such as removal of potential fuels, documentation of major at-risk sites by 

skilled specialists, and use of GIS overlay maps 

during a suppression campaign by Incident Command staff are recommended. NPS Pacific West 

Region archaeological staff works with prescribed 

fire specialists to conduct pre-burn terrain and 

archival records checks to avoid inadvertent 

impacts to undocumented sites (Malony and 

Zimpel 1997).

Mitigation and Protection _________

Specific fuel removal will lessen potential smoke 

damage and heat impacts to rock surfaces (fig. 5-13). 

“Black line,” protective foam barriers, fire resistant 

tarps, hand-lines, and hose lays around known sites 

or fire resistant tarps can be deployed with resource 

advisor’s participation. Technical documentation by 

skilled specialists can establish a photographic, video, 

narrative, and graphic record prior to a local fire event; 

this record provides a baseline condition assessment 

for monitoring activities later. Increased visibility may 

also prompt unwanted visitation.

Preventing loss of color, design elements, complexity 

of panel or cluster relationships to outcropping configuration may be impossible. Through documentation 

using ARARA accepted techniques and approaches we 

may preserve rock art characteristics (Dean 1999). 
128 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

Figure 5-12—Sooting (a) and exfoliation (b) of rock art images on basalt outcrops at the Deadman 

Wash site Coconino National Forest, Arizona.

a

b
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 129

Figure 5-13—Vegetation surrounds cultural features, posing a threat from fires. Top: Example of a bedrock mortars surrounded 

by grasses, at risk from a fire. Bottom (a,b): Fire effects after Piute Fire (photo, Mark Howe 2008). Many milling features are likely 

in poor condition due to past fires dispelling the notion that stone artifacts are not perishable. Repeated fires over time along with 

seasonal freeze and thaw cycle contribute to destruction of milling features uncommonly faster by accelerating exfoliation of the 

rock layers. 

a b
130 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

Prescribed fire plots may include rock art sites, so 

management of nearby fuels would be required in the 

burn plan. Malicious damage during fire suppression is 

subject to law enforcement, either using Archeological 

Resources Protection Act l979 (amended l988), Code of 

Federal Regulations regarding Federal property damage, State resources codes, or local county ordinances. 

Post fire suppression reports, rehabilitation plans, and 

other incident reports should include details regarding 

rock art and other archaeological sites within burned 

terrain. Expert advice from an experienced conservator will be necessary.

Restoration and Stabilization______

Major damage to significant rock art, geoglyphs, 

or related modifications of natural stone is often left 

unrestored. Pioneering studies of chemical stabilization of porous stone types such as sandstone have been 

performed (Grisafe and Nickens 1991a, b; Turner and 

Burke 1976). These authors used experimental stone 

samples to determine effectiveness of various chemical materials to artificially strengthen weakly bonded 

stone without changing color, porosity, or permeability. 

Grisafe and Nickens (1991a) studied a Kansas rock 

art site and found stone samples taken nearby were 

strengthened by an organo-silicon compound dissolved 

in a ketone fluid medium. Bonding of sand grains with 

no change in appearance or permeability resulted from 

their experiments. Turner and Burke’s (1976) study 

used stone samples from Davis Gulch in Lake Powell 

near known rock art sites and from Natural Bridges 

area of northern Arizona. The most successful material was a polymerized methyl methacrylate, applied 

in a wet method to sandstone samples. These early 

efforts may not be allowed in current times because of 

recognized hazardous nature for some chemicals used 

and absence of monitoring data over time regarding 

weakening or disintegration of applied materials.

Resources Available _____________

The American Rock Art Research Association website: 

www.arara.org.

University of California, Los Angeles Institute of Archeology 

Rock Art Archive. Information available: http://www.sscnet.

ucla.edu/ioa/rockart/.

International Newsletter on Rock Art (INORA), sponsored 

by UNESCO’s International Council on Monuments and 

Sites (ICOMOS). Information available: http://icomosdocumentationcentre.blogspot.com/2009/01/inora-internationalnewsletter-on-rock.html.
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 131

Chapter 6: 

Fire Effects on Materials of the 

Historic Period

Charles Haecker

In a literal sense “historical artifacts” and “historical 

sites” are all artifacts and sites dating after the introduction of written history in any region. For example, 

in New Mexico, these would be sites dating after AD 

1540, the year of the first Spanish entrada into what 

would later become the State of New Mexico. In many 

instances, historical sites can also include those sites 

created by American Indians who possessed at least 

some Euro-American objects, and/or whose methods 

of construction were influenced to some degree by 

Euro-Americans. The National Historic Preservation 

Act defines antiquities as over 50 years old; therefore, 

even late 20th century historical sites may be considered 

eligible to the National Register of Historic Places. 

(It is important to note that only cultural resource 

specialists can make a determination regarding the 

eligibility of a cultural resource to the National Register 

of Historic Places; see chapter 1.) Given this time depth 

and regional/ethnic diversity there exists a wide variety 

of historic architectural designs made of materials such 

as adobe, sod, logs, planks, firebrick, formed concrete 

and, quite often, combinations thereof. Artifacts present at even the most humble of historical sites can 

number into the thousands; virtually anything listed 

in a nineteenth century mail-order catalog could be 

found on a frontier ranch. 

There are countless historical sites that have been 

continuously occupied up to present-day, resulting 

in an even greater variety of building materials and 

artifacts of varying degrees of combustibility. For example, a cabin built in 1870 might have the original log 

walls exposed in the interior rooms, its exterior walls 

lined with turn-of-the-century clapboards, which in 

turn are overlaid by aluminum siding installed in 1955. 

The nearby trash dump might contain fragments of ca. 

1870 whiskey bottles, parts from a ca. 1900 wood stove 

alongside 1930s automobile tires, all capped over by a 

1968 “Avocado Green” refrigerator. A grass fire might 

not affect the house, but the 1930-vintage tires could 

catch fire, resulting in destruction of the historic dump.

A review of the literature regarding effects of fire on 

cultural resources indicates an explicit bias in favor of 

studying the effects of fire on prehistoric resources, as 

opposed to studying these effects on historic structures 

and artifacts. Consequently, the following information 

is based in part on unpublished, anecdotal observations, conjoined with empirical data obtained from 

experiments conducted by arson investigators. The 

latter data contain a wealth of information that should 

be consulted by cultural resource managers and fire 

managers when considering the effects of fire on the 

wide array of historic period materials.
132 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

Types of Fire Damage ____________

•	 Distortion happens when materials change shape, 

temporarily or permanently, during fires. Nearly 

all materials expand when heated, affecting the 

integrity of solid structures when they are made 

from several materials. If one material expands 

more than another material, the difference in 

expansion can cause the structure to fail.

•	 Spalling is a condition associated with masonry 

plaster and concrete building materials and some 

artifacts. The primary mechanism of spalling is 

the expansion or contraction of the surface while 

the rest of the mass expands or contracts at a different rate. Spalling of concrete, masonry, or brick 

usually occurs due to high temperatures from an 

accelerant, for example, creosote-soaked railroad 

ties used as building material (NFPA 1998). An 

example of spalling on artifacts occurs when the 

colorless glaze on historic ceramics separates 

from the underlying ceramic paste.

•	 Charring is the carbonization of a fuel during 

heating or burning. The rate of charring is nonlinear and varies with wood density, a property 

that varies with species and growing conditions, 

and with the duration of heating. An often-quoted 

simple “rule of thumb” for pine is that charring 

occurs approximately at the rate of 3.5 cm (1.4 

in) per hour at 750 °C (1382 °F) (DeHaan 1991).

•	 Calcination refers to the various changes that occur in cement- and gypsum-based plasters during 

a fire. Calcination involves driving the chemically 

bound water out of the plaster, turning it into a 

crumbly solid (NFPA 1998). Charring of organic 

binder, if present, will also weaken the plaster.

•	 Build-up of hazardous, highly flammable vegetation within abandoned/collapsed structures is a 

common occurrence at historic sites. Collapsed, 

rotted roof beams can catch fire quickly, especially 

if dry vegetation, for example, tumbleweed, has 

piled up within or adjacent to the structure. 

Once ignited, the building materials become the 

primary fuels that will dictate severity of the fire 

and the resulting effects on its contents.

•	 Fighting the fire may cause some site damage. For 

instance, use of water to fight a fire on a historic 

trash dump could crack super-heated artifacts; 

use of a fire rake over a trash dump could damage 

the artifacts; and chemical fire retardants may 

alter the surface appearance of artifacts.

•	 Removal of vegetation by a fire may result in erosion of the site, and exposure of surface artifacts 

might lead to site vandalism.

Historic Structures ______________

Native Materials Structures

American Indians traditionally used readily obtainable raw materials from the land around them, 

fashioning structures from wood, bark, leaves, grass, 

reeds, earth, snow, stone, skin, and bones. Their 

principal types of construction were (1) tensile or bent 

frame with covering for example, wigwam, wickiup; 

(2) compression shell, for example, hogan, tipi; and (3) 

post-and-beam wood frame with various walling materials, for example, earth lodge, plank house (Nabokov 

and Easton 1989). Such structures usually were not 

conceived as articles of permanent craftsmanship; 

once abandoned they quickly deteriorated. However, 

aboveground remnants of late prehistoric and historical 

periods combustible structures exist in the arid and/

or high-elevation regions of the United States and 

Canada. 

American Indians sometimes incorporated building materials of Euro-American origin since at least 

the mid-19th century. Such a structure might follow 

the traditional building form yet be constructed of 

an amalgam of native and Euro-American building 

materials. Euro-American building materials are 

intended to last for many years even after structural 

abandonment and collapse; therefore, such objects as 

firebrick, milled lumber, and corrugated roofing may 

also be the surface indicators of an American Indian 

historical site. 

Adobe—Soil for the making of adobe bricks or for 

use in rammed earth walls is available in virtually 

unlimited quantities almost everywhere. Proportions 

of sand, silt, and clay vary in the ground. If these 

proportions are unsuitable, the soil is tempered or 

balanced by the addition of another material, such as 

straw, hay, or other fibrous vegetal matter. Earth-wall 

structures can be found from high mountain passes to 

the humid lowlands of the eastern seaboard. Its basic 

form of construction consists of a solid, load-bearing 

wall built up of sun-dried bricks molded into flat layers, with adobe mud used as mortar (fig. 6-1). Surfaces 

are then smoothed with adobe plaster, which is a thin 

mixture of water and clay mixed with gypsum (calcium 

sulfate). For roof construction, closely spaced beams in 

the form of round logs are laid transversely on the tops 

of the walls. Thin branches, sticks, or reeds, laid in a 

dense mass over the logs, support a thick blanket of 

clay that makes a durable roof slightly pitched toward 

drain spouts outside the walls.

Susceptibility to Fire: Walls of an intact, well-built 

and maintained adobe structure will resist damage 

from an external fire source. Fire damage, however, can 
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 133

Figure 6-1—19th century Hispanic structure, New Mexico; constructed of sandstone, 

adobe plaster, and log roof beams.

Figure 6-2—Remains of a 17th century Navajo Hogan, New 

Mexico. These wood remains were later collected by fuel 

wood gatherers.

occur from even a low temperature fire if (1) vertical 

wooden support posts and lintels are in an advanced 

state of decay; (2) the wooden roof support posts have 

collapsed, exposing the vegetal roof material; or (3) the 

roofless structure contains an accumulation of dry and 

decayed material that is highly flammable. Gypsum 

plasters will calcinate when exposed to sufficient heat, 

resulting in spalling. Plaster spall, in turn, may expose 

otherwise protected vertical posts, which may also burn 

when exposed to fire. Adobe bricks, mud mortar, and 

plaster may be weakened by fire if the straw binder 

burns. 

Hogan, Tipi, Wickiup—The hogan, a traditional 

Navajo dwelling, is susceptible to fire. Thousands have 

been recorded as historic archaeological features; 4,510 

hogans have been recorded in New Mexico alone, with 

thousands more in Colorado, Arizona, and Utah. It was, 

and still is, a permanent single family house, built to 

retain heat in the winter and to keep cool in the summer (fig. 6-2). Earlier hogans began as a framework 

of five heavy poles set up in a cone shape, like the tipi 

(fig. 6-3), but with a small vestibule entrance. It had 

a smoke hole and was insulated with a heavy layer of 

sod. It was known as the “forked stick hogan” because 

of the shape of the poles that held up the structure. 

The surface remains of 389 forked-stick hogans have 

been recorded in New Mexico. Some of these remains 

date as early as A.D. 1550, up to the early 1800s. 

Eventually, stone-walled hogans and the presentday log wall hogan evolved because of the influence 

of Euro-Americans. By 1850 the Navajo had adopted, 

in part, the log technology of Euro-American pioneers 

to build the hogan walls. But furniture arrangement, 

roof construction, lighting, interior functioning, and 

the overall shape of the building remained the same.

Other American Indian combustible structures include Shoshone semi-standing log structures in eastern 

Nevada (Simms 1989), tipi-like structural remains in 

eastern California (Bettinger 1975, 1982), and brush 

wickiup (fig. 6-4) remains in Death Valley National 

Monument (Deal and D’Ascenzo 1987; Wallace and 
134 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

Figure 6-3—19th century tipi poles, Yellowstone National Park. 

These poles were later destroyed in a forest fire.

Figure 6-4—Remains of an early 20th century wickiup, Death Valley, California.

Wallace 1979). Other combustible features sometimes 

found on historical period American Indian sites are 

ramadas, which are sun shades constructed of vertical posts with a pole-and-brush roof; livestock pens 

constructed of brush and poles; and firewood piles. 

Susceptibility to Fire: Hogans have been and are 

constructed of a variety of materials, including adobe 

and logs (see “Susceptibility to Fire” for adobe and 

log cabins). Sandstone is a common hogan building 

material. When exposed to sufficient temperatures, 

the surface of sandstone oxidizes, turns color, and 

spalls. The remains of forked stick hogans are especially susceptible to fire since the wood can be quite 

old—some have been dated to over 350 years old—and 

very dry. Many of these remains have the appearance 

of firewood piles and are in danger of being burned or 

hauled out by prescribed fire burn crews and firewood 

cutters. Given their construction materials and collapsed appearances, wickiups, tipi poles, forked-stick 

hogans, and ramadas are likewise in danger of being 

mistaken for hazardous fuel loads. 

Monuments—This category includes grave markers, shrines, and cairns, the latter defined as a pile 

of stones used to denote a specific location. Varieties 
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 135

Figure 6-6—Ponderosa bark peel tree on a Mescalero 

Apache camp site, Guadalupe Mountains National Park, 

Texas.

Figure 6-5—19th century Russian grave, Nelson Island, Alaska. Note potential fuel load 

of cured grasses that surround the grave.

of materials are used to construct 

grave markers, ranging from 

commercially manufactured and 

inscribed marble or cement slabs, 

crossed pieces of wood, or simply 

upright boards and unmodified 

stones. Although typically grouped 

within a community cemetery, 

grave markers can be found in 

association with homesteads, and 

even alongside roads and trails 

(fig. 6-5). Shrines usually incorporate an icon or symbol that is 

typically, but not always, religious 

in nature. Like grave markers, 

shrines may be constructed from 

a variety of materials, and also 

can be found virtually anywhere. 

Cairns, which are of ancient origin 

in concept and are easily constructed, can demarcate boundary 

corners, a trail route, a place of 

significance in history or prehistory, a cache of trade goods, or a burial. Some cairns 

hold significance that is sacred to American Indians; 

therefore, cairns should be given consideration as 

cultural resources, unless identified otherwise. 

Culturally Modified Trees—Culturally modified 

trees in various regions of the western United States 

and Canada are important archaeological and ethnographic resources (White 1954). As examples, there 

are bow stave junipers in the Great Basin (Wilke 

1988); bark peel ponderosa in Montana and New 

Mexico (fig. 6-6) (Swetnam 1984); and Northwest red 

cedars, from which bark was harvested for making 

containers (Schlick 1984), or planks extracted from 

still-living trees (Hicks 1985; Stewart 1984). These 

culturally scarred trees are part of the landscape and 

are important cultural resources and, as such, should 

be given the same regard as hogans, wickiups, monuments, etc.

Log Cabin—Swedes who settled along the Delaware 

River in 1638 introduced the log cabin in America. It 

was not until around 1700 that non-Swedes built log 

cabins (fig. 6-7). By the mid-1700s, the log cabin had 

become the standard frontier dwelling, inhabited by 

all nationalities, as well as by American Indians. The 

log cabin had many features desirable to the early 

settlers and later pioneers moving westward. It was 

quickly built from indigenous materials—trees and 

rocks cleared from land to be used for farming. It 

was easy to build because it did not require an extra 

framework to hold up the walls. The fireplace was 

made of large stones and the chimney of sticks lined 

with mud. The floor was tamped earth and the roof 
136 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

Figure 6-7—19th century log cabin, Colorado.

split cedar shingles. Early log cabins were sometimes 

erected close to each other inside a log palisade to make 

a protected community.

Susceptibility to Fire: It is safe to say there is a 

close correlation between the presence of historic log 

structures and the abundant availability of trees. 

There are numerous examples of forest fires that have 

destroyed such structures. The primary cause of fire 

damage to a log structure is the general fire regime 

of the region, not of the logs themselves. All cabins, 

when made of the same materials, essentially have the 

same flammability potential. Yet there are also some 

contributing factors to consider as well: condition of 

the logs, for example, dry rot; average relative humidity of the region (log cabins in the Northwest Coast 

region have a far less chance of burning than cabins 

found in the Southwest high desert); flammability of 

roofing material (wood shingles versus corrugated steel 

roofing); and accumulation of flammable materials 

such as moss, pine litter, vegetative growth, and any 

chemical accelerants that may be within and around 

the cabin. 

Baled Hay and Sod—The High Plains prairie lacks 

trees, stone, or fuels for firing bricks. Euro-American 

settlers may first have lived in quickly-built dugouts 

carved from small ravines or south-facing hills. Like the 

American Indians who constructed lodges from earth, 

the pioneers also used wild grasses and domestic hays 

baled into large building blocks to construct substantial, well-insulated homes. The front of the dugout was 

usually walled with sod bricks into which a door and 

window were cut. Baling machines were introduced in 

the 1850s and, by 1890, settlers were using hay bales 

as a construction material for houses and barns. Fire 

was a particular hazard to the baled hay house and 

extreme care had to be taken with cooking and heating. Plastering is a necessity for a hay bale structure, 

perhaps less so with a sod structure. A cement-based 

plaster was commonly used to protect the hay from 

moisture and as a fire retardant.

Sod bricks were made from ground plowed into 30.5 

to 35.6 cm-thick (12 to 14 in) strips. These strips were 

cut into two-foot lengths and then placed lengthwise 

with the green grass facing down, making a wall two 

feet thick. When the desired height was reached, huge 

cedar ridge pole and cedar rafters were placed on the 

top of the walls to support a willow brush matting and 

sod roof. More affluent settlers built their sod houses 

with a wood frame roof covered with sheeting boards 

and tarpaper to support the sod.

Susceptibility to Fire: Due to their high organic dust 

content, hay bales are far more susceptible to fire than 

the straw bales commonly used today. If the plaster 

of a historic hay bale structure is partly missing, then 

the fire hazard is much greater—even a minor grass 

fire or an ember could ignite the structure. 

Structures Using Manufactured Materials

As compared with structures of native materials, 

structures of this category include a much greater 

variety of construction materials. For example, a 

homestead might have fieldstone floor support columns, 

cement-mortared log walls, a stick-and-mud chimney, 

milled wood rafters, and corrugated steel roofing. 

Metal fasteners such as nails, bolts, and wood screws, 

are also present in relative abundance. Each of these 

building materials has its own rate of decomposition/

oxidation, with a concomitant variation to its susceptibility to fire. As another example, a cement-plastered, 

adobe-walled structure could have creosote-soaked 

railroad ties employed as corner posts. If the plaster 

has spalled off from the railroad ties due to differing 

expansion rates, the structure is in much greater 

danger of burning from even a low-temperature grass 

fire. This is because creosote, used as a preservative on 

railroad ties, is an accelerant—and if the railroads tie 

has dry-rotted, the fire hazard would be even greater. 

Frame Structures—Wood was the obvious choice 

for most early buildings and bridges. The introduction 

of the nail- and spike-cutting machines after 1790 

and of the power-driven circular saw in 1814 greatly 

increased the production of boards and heavy timbers. 

Mass production of cut nails by the early nineteenth 

century permitted the development of light, or “balloon” frame building construction during the 1830s. 

Such inexpensive structures could be built where 

wood was not abundant, for example, the prairie and 

desert region of the American West. The advance of 

the railroad network throughout the West after the 

Civil War greatly increased the availability of milled 
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 137

Figure 6-8—Late 19th century homestead, South 

Dakota. Note heavy grass fuel load.

lumber. This building material provided an alternative 

to native materials such as adobe, sod, and logs.

Susceptibility to Fire: A strong likelihood exists that 

a dilapidated, unoccupied historic frame structure 

eventually will be destroyed by fire. A dry-rotted 

frame structure, especially one in close proximity to 

an abundance of wildland fuels and other flammable 

materials (for example, Russian thistle, manure, accelerants such as rubber tires, and creosoted railroad 

ties), can quickly burn. Corrugated sheet metal, 

introduced as a fire retardant during the late 19th 

century, may still protect the historic structure when 

used as roofing and wall sheathing. However, if the 

structure is on piers, a grass fire could spread under 

it and ignite any dry-rotted floorboards.

Shacks—These structures are small, temporary, 

and crudely built, with walls perhaps made from tree 

limbs, recycled boards, doors, and railroad ties; the 

roof might be made of large pieces of bark, tar paper, 

corrugated metal, tarpaulin, rubberized cloth and, by 

the mid-twentieth century, sheet plastic (fig. 6-8).

Susceptibility to Fire: Being of an impermanent 

nature, shacks as archaeological features are usually 

totally or partially collapsed. Wood, when present, is 

in various stages of decomposition, with other building 

materials, for example, tarpaper, also deteriorated. 

Even low temperature grass fires can ignite and destroy these remains. The building material might be 

especially combustible due to accelerants, for example, 

creosote-soaked railroad ties, and glue used to make 

plywood.

Cement-Mortared Fieldstone, Firebrick, Cinder Block, Cement Aggregate—Structures utilizing these building materials are, in varying degrees, 

resistant to fire. Fieldstone, that is, unmodified native 

rock, is most resistant to fire damage. Firebrick is a 

common building material if good clay and fuel sources 

are locally available, or acquired from manufacturers. Cinder block has been a building material since 

around 1920. Cement—made of crushed and slaked 

limestone or crushed and slaked oyster shell, the 

latter used along the coastal regions of southeastern 

United States—has been a common building material 

mainstay for hundreds of years in the United States 

and Canada. 

Susceptibility to Fire: Low-fired, relatively porous 

firebrick, which is typical of non-commercial, locally 

made brick used at many historical sites, can weaken 

and crumble if the fire is hot enough. Lime-based mortar 

can be affected by fire. It can calcinate and crumble 

under sufficient heat, thereby loosening the firebrick 

and, if not replaced, causing the brick wall to eventually collapse. Cinder block and masonry surfaces may 

spall, which appears as distinct lines of striation and 

loss of surface material resulting in cracking, breaking, 

chipping, and formation of craters on the surface. 

Historic Artifacts ________________

The great majority of historic artifacts can be assigned to three materials categories: glass, metal, and 

ceramic. A fourth materials category of “Miscellaneous 

Materials” includes objects of leather, rubber, wood, 

plastics, bone and shell. 

Glass

Glass is a combination of soda, lime, and silica, a 

composition that appears colorless. Glass color is the result of several factors, including both intentionally and 

unintentionally added chemicals in the glass formula. 

Glass articles and fragments constitute a significant 

portion of most historic artifact collections. These items 

represent common household foods, beverages, medicines, cosmetics, cleaners, windows, and lamps. Their 

evolution includes many manufacturing changes, some 

of which are useful dating aids. Period of use/disposal 

and function of a glass container can be determined 

by its shape, color, method of closure and, if present, 

its label, the latter made of paper, enamel paint, and/

or raised lettering. If present, alpha/numeric codes on 

glass containers can also provide the year and place 

of manufacture, and the company that manufactured 

it, as opposed to the company that sold the contents 

of the container. Windowpane fragments are clues 

regarding the architectural layout of a structure, and 

the socioeconomic status of the original owners of the 

structure. In addition, the mean thickness of a window 

pane fragment can be used to derive a relatively accurate initial construction date for a dwelling (Moir 

1987).

Susceptibility to Fire: Glass can be affected by heat 

buildup, smoke, and flame. Smoke staining and melt-
138 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

ing of glass items tend to occur in direct relation to 

the heat buildup, the intensity of the fire, the speed of 

fire spread, and nearness to the fire. Soda lime glass 

contains a mixture of alkali and alkaline earth to make 

it more durable and easier to produce. For hundreds of 

years this family of glass has been used for containers, 

window glass, pressed- and blown-ware, and lighting 

products where exceptional chemical durability and 

heat resistance is not required. Its melting temperature 

is 695 °C (1283 °F). Lead glass contains lead oxide 

(and, sometimes, lead silicate) and melts easily. Solder 

and glazes for decorating enamels on tableware are 

based on these low melting lead glazes. Their melting 

temperature is 380 °C (716 °F).

An increase in the temperature of a glass object 

causes a proportional increase in that object’s molecular 

activity. The hotter the object the greater the molecular 

activity on its surface, which inhibits the amount of 

smoke staining that will form. A glass object heavily 

stained by smoke and soot was, therefore, cooler than 

one with a light buildup of soot. A heavy soot buildup 

on a glass surface suggests that the item was far from 

the fire’s point of origin. However, a light soot buildup 

suggests that the item may be at or near the point of 

origin. 

•	 Checkering of glass refers to the half-moon shapes 

that are sometimes seen on the surface of glass 

items. These half-moon shapes result after droplets of water (usually from fire fighting) land on 

a heated surface. 

•	 Crazing refers to the cracking of glass into smaller 

segments or subdivisions in an irregular pattern. 

The extent to which a glass object (for example, 

window pane, soda bottle) will crack or craze is 

related to the type of glass involved, its thickness, 

the temperature range to which it was exposed, 

and its distance from the point of origin. Crazing into small segments or pieces suggests that 

the item was subject to a rapid and intense heat 

buildup. It also suggests that the items may be 

at or near the point of fire origin (NFPA 1998).

On historic archaeological sites, glass artifacts, 

usually in the form of fragments, are commonly concentrated within domestic trash dumps. Occasionally 

there is evidence indicating that the trash dump had 

been purposely burned during the period of site occupation. Where such trash burning occurred, there 

is sometimes evidence that glass artifacts melted or 

shattered. Fire temperatures can easily be reached that 

would craze and/or heavily soot glass. Enamel paint 

labels could oxidize, causing colors to change and the 

paint to flake off. It is less likely that a low temperature 

fire, such as a grass fire, would reach the melting point 

of glass, although whole objects, for example, bottles, 

might crack or even shatter from the heat. Fires having heavy fuel loads can reach temperatures that are 

hot enough to melt glass artifacts into unrecognizable 

lumps.

Ceramics

Ceramic materials from the historic period have long 

been used by archaeologists for a variety of purposes, 

from dating the period of a site’s occupation to understanding the role played by a site’s occupants in a wider 

socioeconomic network. There is a vast body of information that deals with the various historic ceramics’ 

pastes, glazes, decorations, and shapes (Majewski and 

O’Brien 1987); however, little quantifiable information 

exists regarding the effects of fire on historic ceramics, 

relative to the fire studies conducted on prehistoric 

ceramics. 

Ceramics can be divided into four primary categories 

that are based on the character of the ceramic fabric, 

or body, of the object:

•	 Unrefined Earthenware—the body is made of 

coarse-grained clays; fired between 500-900 °C 

(932-1652 °F); body is easily scratched and 

broken, absorbs moisture; body is thick relative 

to refined earthenware. Unrefined earthenwares 

may also be glazed using powdered tin as a flux 

in the glazing process. These ceramics, called 

majolica, faience, or delft, are typically found on 

North American sites dating prior to circa 1780, 

and were quickly replaced in popularity by whitebodied refined earthenwares. 

•	 Refined Earthenware—fine-grained clays; 

fired between 1100-1500 °C (2012-2732 °F); 

stronger, thinner body relative to unrefined 

earthenware; surface is sealed and protected 

with a translucent glaze. White-bodied refined 

earthenware is the ceramic most commonly found 

on nineteenth and twentieth century sites. These 

ceramics are durable, inexpensive, and come in a 

wide variety of shapes and decorations.

•	 Stoneware—coarse-to-medium grained clays; 

fired between 900-1100 °C (1652-2012 °F), 

becoming non-porous; body is strengthened by its 

thickness and (usually) vitreous glaze. Popular 

throughout the nineteenth and early twentieth 

centuries, stoneware was usually reserved for 

making utilitarian vessels such as crocks, jugs, 

and ale bottles. 

•	 Porcelain—superfine-grained clays; fired between 1250-1450 °C (2282-2642 °F); vitreous, 

translucent, extremely hard body. This is a “high 

status” ceramic, thus rare on historic sites relative to the other ceramic types. 

We will make the assumption here that all unglazed, 

unrefined earthenware Euro-American ceramics, for 

example, a flowerpot, have essentially the same chemical and physical properties as prehistoric ceramics. All 
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 139

unglazed, unrefined Euro-American earthenware that 

are exposed to wildfire, therefore, should exhibit 

essentially the same physical and chemical transformations exhibited by unglazed prehistoric ceramics. 

Susceptibility to Fire: All earthenwares are affected by fire to varying degrees, depending on the 

Sidebar 6-1—Cultural Landscape Restoration

Prescribed burn experiment, Knife River Indian Villages National Historic Site, North Dakota 

Oct. 15th, 1988 and Nov. 2nd, 1988

References: Picha and others 1991

General Information:

•	 Elevation: 506-572 meters (1660-1878 feet) 

•	 Vegetation: prairie grassland

•	 Topography: level plains

•	 Type of study: prescribed burn experiment

Fire Description:

•	 Temperature range:

o Maximum temperature reached: 316 to 399 °C (600-750 °F)

o Soil temperature (recorded by Tempilstick crayons)

o Plot 1-3 soil temp: 6.1 °C (43 °F) pre-burn, 8.8 °C (48 °F) post-burn

o Plot 4 soil temp: 14.1 °C (57 °F) pre-burn, 18.0 °C (64 °F) post-burn

•	 Duration: Plot 1-3: 1 minute; Plot 4: 30 sec.

•	 Relative humidity: Plot 1-3: 54%; Plot 4: 78% 

•	 Fuel: 

o 2 plots = mixed grasses and buckbrush

o 1 plot = mixed grasses with much less buckbrush

o 1 plot = mixed grasses, buckbrush and added clippings

•	 Type of Fire: Prescribed burn

Discussion

In 1991, researchers conducted a prescribed burn experiment at Knife River Indian Villages National Historic Site in North Dakota (Picha and others 1991). They recorded effects of prairie fire 

on a variety of artifact material types. Specimens included non-flint cobbles, chunks and cobbles 

of knife-river flint, flaked flint, potsherds, cow rib-bone fragments, mussel shell fragments, wood, 

charcoal, lead pieces, and glass beads.

Researchers placed specimens in four adjacent burn plots, each measuring 10 m2

 (12 y2). Fire 

temperature was measured with heat-sensitive crayons, and soil temperature was recorded by use 

of a “temperature probe” before and after each burn (Picha and others 1991:16). Specimens were 

placed at the surface of two plots (one with light fuel and one with heavy fuel) and 2 cm (0.8 in) 

below the surface of the other two (one heavy and one light fuel) plots. No unburned control and no 

replication of burn plots were included in this study. The maximum fire temperature reached during 

the experiment was 399 °C (750 °F), and heating duration was estimated to be about 1 minute.

The specimens were collected after the first precipitation and examined for change in color, shape, 

and size. No effects to charcoal could be observed. Pottery and large natural cobbles were only minimally affected. Most fire effects occurred to items that had been at the surface. All material types 

besides charcoal exhibited some color change due to smoke blackening or scorching. Other effects, 

such as fracture and deformation, were most severe to small thin items. Organic materials were 

found specifically vulnerable to fire.

Several of the observed effects to surface artifacts represented potential loss of archeological information. Flaked stone and animal bone were altered to resemble intentionally heat-treated flint and 

bone exposed to cooking fire. Mussel shell disintegrated and the wooden objects partially combusted. 

Glass beads were partially melted and discolored by soot, and small pieces of lead had melted.

characteristics of the paste, glaze, painted decoration 

if present, and temperature of the fire. The alkaline 

glaze that is typically used on high-fired refined white 

earthenwares (also known as ironstone, “hotel ware,” 

and semi-porcelain) can crackle even in a low temperature fire, and the underlying ceramic body of the 
140 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

Table 6-1—Melting points of materials commonly found on historical sites (derived in part from NFPA 1998:28).

Material Temp.a

 (F) Temp.a (C) Artifacts

Plastics 167-509 75-265 Disposable containers, toys

Solder (tin-alloy) 275-350 135-177 Patch repair work on brass and iron objects

Tin 449 232 Kitchenwares, toys, can lining, building materials

Pot metal (copper-lead alloy) 572-752 300-400 Flatware, pots, faucets

White pot metal 572-752 300-400 Kitchenwares

Lead 621 327 Bullets

Zinc 707 375 Plating for iron objects, e.g., cans

Glass 1100-2600 593-1427 Bottles, window pane

Unrefined earthenware 1112-1832 600-1000 Flowerpots, some marbles, prehistoric ceramics

Aluminum 1220 660 Kitchenwares

Brass (yellow) 1710 932 Cartridge cases, military buttons and insignia

Silver 1760 960 Coins, jewelry

Stoneware 1832-2192 1000-1200 Crocks, jugs, ale bottles

Gold 1945 1063 Coins, jewelry

Copper 1981 1082 Kitchenwares, building materials, coins

Refined earthenware 2192-2912 1200-1600 Dinnerware ceramics

Cast iron 1920-2550 1350-1400 Kettles, Dutch ovens, wood stoves

Steel (stainless) 2600 1427 Eating utensils, kitchenwares

Nickel 2651 1455 Plating

Steel (carbon) 2760 1516 Heavy machinery parts

Iron 2795 1535 Tools, nails, horseshoes, cans, corrugated roofing

Porcelain 2822 1550 Dinnerware ceramics

a Temperatures are approximate.

softer-paste white earthenwares can oxidize and turn 

yellowish brown. Majolica glaze is fragile; its body is 

soft and porous, and can absorb water. Thus, majolica 

glaze will crackle and spall even in a low temperature 

fire (Haecker 2001).

If the ceramic decoration is an overglaze paint, 

that is, lying on the surface of the glaze, the paint 

will be damaged to some degree. If the fire reaches 

temperatures higher than that used to manufacture 

the ceramic it is possible that the glaze will oxidize or 

burn, and the whole vessel or vessel fragment (sherd) 

might split laterally in places. Water droplets hitting 

the surface of a super-heated ceramic can crack and 

shatter it (Haecker 2001). Porcelain melts at around 

1550 °C (2822 °F) (NFPA 1998). If its paint decoration 

lies on the surface of the vessel, the paint could become 

discolored and/or burn off at temperatures much lower 

than this. 

Metal

The melting of certain metals may not always be 

caused by reaching their melting points. Instead, it 

may be caused by alloying. During a fire, a metal 

having a relatively low melting point may drip onto 

or come into contact with other metals that do not 

often melt in fires. This phenomenon can also occur 

when component parts of a heated object are in contact 

with each other. That mixture (alloy) will melt at a 

temperature less than the melting temperature of the 

higher-melting-temperature metal and, in some cases, 

less than that of either metal. Examples of relatively 

low-melting-temperature metals are aluminum, zinc, 

and lead (table 6-1). Metals that can be affected by alloying include copper and iron (steel). Copper alloying 

is often found, but iron (steel) alloying might be found 

in only a few cases of sustained fire. Even if the metal 

object does not melt it can warp out of shape (NFPA 

1998).

Cans represent one of the more common types of metal 

artifact found on post-1850 sites. Like glass containers, cans have been intensively studied by historical 

archaeologists and, like glass containers, are most 

useful in dating sites and providing evidence about 

subsistence and life ways. Information regarding date 

and contents can be determined by the dimensions and 

shape of the can, the techniques used to manufacture 

the can, and by the enamel paint or paper labeling. 
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 141

Figure 6-9—Lead soldered cans in a test fire using straw as a fuel 

load. Note beads of melted solder.

Since cans are made of rolled tinned steel, they will 

eventually deteriorate if deposited in a moist, humid 

environment. In the dry Southwest, however, cans 

found on historic sites over one hundred years old may 

lack labels but are often in relatively good condition, 

albeit rusted. 

Occasionally, there is archaeological evidence indicating can/trash dumps were burned by the sites’ historic 

occupants, as evidenced by layers of wood charcoal 

found within the dump. These wood fires would have 

been hot enough to destroy the labels; however, the 

shape of the can usually remains the same. An exception 

might exist regarding fire damage on 19th and early 

20th century lead-soldered cans (fig. 6-9). Since solder 

melts at 135-177 °C (275-350.6 °F), it is likely that such 

cans would be damaged by low temperature fires. The 

resultant alloying of the solder with the tinned steel 

also could cause the latter to become fire damaged at 

lower-than-normal temperatures. The tinned surface of 

the can may also burn off, thereby increasing the rate 

of oxidation of the steel body and ultimately the loss 

of diagnostic information (for example, can diameter, 

stamped lettering). 

Kitchenware includes an extensive array of objects 

that can be found on the surface of historic sites and 

can be affected by fire:

•	 Cast iron objects such as kettles, pans, Dutch 

ovens, and wood stoves can crack if exposed to 

temperatures above 1050 °C (1922 °F). Even at 

temperatures lower than this, if water is applied 

to these objects, such as during the fighting of a 

fire, cast iron can crack from the sudden cooling.

•	 Enameled ironware (also known as agate ironware) objects such as plates, coffeepots, and 

kettles, have been popular household items since 

the late 19th century. Such objects are susceptible 

to damage by low temperature fires: some of the 

enamel can craze and/or pop off, exposing the 

underlying rolled metal to oxidation. Partial loss 

or discoloration of the enamel, however, should 

not affect the ability to date the artifact. 

•	 Steel utensils that are plated with tin, brass, or 

silver will have their surfaces discolored and 

possibly burned off in a fire (table 6-1).

Construction, transportation, and agricultural/

ranching hardware items made of metal are often 

present on historic sites. Such items are typically made 

of cast iron, wrought iron, and steel, and, due to their 

sturdy construction, usually impervious to most fires. 

However, their surfaces might become pitted; paint 

surfaces, if present, can blister and/or burn off; and 

enhanced oxidation of the surface of the object may 

occur if water used to extinguish the fire also rapidly 

cools the artifact. 

Copper and brass objects on historic sites are less 

common relative to steel and iron objects. Typical brass 

artifacts found on historic sites are ammunition cartridge cases that have been fired; sometimes unfired 

cartridges are also found. Cartridge cases are useful 

in dating a site, with data obtained from the object’s 

dimensions and, if present, from its headstamp. Normally, cartridge cases are not seriously affected by fire, 

given the relatively high melting point of copper and 

brass; discoloration might occur but dating information 

is still present. However, there is one reported instance 

where fire has destroyed such artifacts. This occurred 

on the Little Bighorn Battlefield when, in 1983, a grass 

fire burned over this site. Several unfired cartridges 
142 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

associated with the battlefield exploded. Also, several 

lead bullets found on the surface had partially melted 

as a result of this grass fire (Richard Harmon, personal 

communication, 1999).

The burn-off of vegetation on a historic battlefield is 

an atypical situation. One must keep in mind, however, 

that even a low-temperature grass fire could detonate 

unexploded cannon ordnance, perhaps injuring members of the fire crew. 

Miscellaneous Artifacts

•	 Leather is a material that is sometimes found on 

the surface of historic sites. Such objects as shoes, 

belts and horse tack become dry and brittle over 

time. Leather will char in a grass fire, and will 

be completely consumed at hotter temperatures.

•	 Rubber and rubberized objects are present on 

many historic sites, some dating to the Civil War 

period and even earlier. Rubber can be ignited and 

completely consumed at low temperatures such 

as those reached by grass fires (Haecker 2001).

•	 Plastics can appear on historic sites that date to 

the early 20th century, but is most common after 

circa 1950. Plastics have been used to manufacture a wide variety of objects such as toys, 

buttons, tool handles, and containers. Various 

plastics have varying melting points but most 

plastic objects would be affected to some degree 

by a low temperature fire.

•	 Of course, artifacts made of wood are quite common on historic sites, and can include everything 

from buckboards and Model T car seat frames, 

to ox yokes and axe handles. When present on 

a site and in the open they usually have some 

rot, increasing their susceptibility to destruction 

by fire.

•	 Bone, especially if dry and porous, will char in a 

grass fire, and will be completely consumed in a 

high temperature fire (Haecker 2001). 

•	 Shell buttons will become discolored, flake 

and split laterally along the laminations, and 

eventually turn to powder if subjected to a high 

temperature fire (Haecker 2001). This will also 

occur at lower temperatures if the buttons are 

very small and thin.

Summary ______________________

Historical sites that are eligible to be included in the 

National Register of Historic Places usually include 

a variety of materials not found on prehistoric sites. 

These materials vary widely in their susceptibility 

to fire effects. To date, there is little empirical data 

regarding the effects of fire on historic period materials. This dearth of information is offset somewhat by 

data derived from arson investigations, which should 

be consulted by cultural resource managers and fire 

managers. 

Types of fire damage include distortion, spalling, 

charring, and calcination. Heat can be transferred 

within a structure by metal fittings such as nails 

and bolts. The chemicals used in manufacturing certain building materials (for example, plywood glues, 

creosote-soaked railroad ties) are accelerants, which 

increase the risk of fire damage even when the fire 

source is of relatively low temperature, such as a grass 

fire.

Artifacts are typically assigned to four material 

categories: glass, ceramics, metal, and miscellaneous. 

Glass can be affected by heat build-up, smoke, and 

flame. Examples of low-temperature fire damage to 

glass include the loss of paper and enamel paint labels, soot staining, and shattering of glass containers. 

All ceramics are affected by fire to varying degrees, 

depending on the physical characteristics of a given 

ceramic, and temperature of the fire. A fire may result 

in crazing of glazes and spalling of the ceramic body, 

burn-off of some types of designs and, if the fire is hot 

enough, cause calcination, even melting. Sufficiently 

high temperatures may not always cause the melting 

of certain metals. Instead, alloying may cause it. A 

low-temperature fire can completely destroy artifacts 

made of such miscellaneous materials as rubber, plastics, shell, and bone.

Exposure of a historic structure or object to fire, 

regardless of the temperature that is generated, does 

not necessarily equate with destroying its value as a 

cultural resource. For instance, a low-temperature 

prescribed fire that burns over a trash scatter may 

discolor fragments of ceramics and glass; however, the 

diagnostic aspects of these artifacts, such as decoration 

and vessel shape, may still be recorded with accuracy.
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 143

Chapter 7: 

The Effects of Fire on Subsurface 

Archaeological Materials

Elizabeth A. Oster

Samantha Ruscavage-Barz

Michael L. Elliott

Fire and Cultural Sites ___________

In this chapter, we concentrate on the effects of fire 

on subsurface archaeological deposits: the matrix 

containing post-depositional fill, artifacts, ecofactual 

data, dating samples, and other cultural and noncultural materials. In order to provide a context for 

understanding these data, this paper provides a summary of previous research about the potential effects 

of fire on subsurface cultural materials.

As a case study, the results of recent archaeological testing at six Ancestral Puebloan sites located in 

Bandelier National Monument, New Mexico, are presented. The tested sites are all prehistoric structural 

sites dating to the period A.D. 1200-1500. The specific 

focus of the study was to define the extent of alteration 

to subsurface deposits when archaeological materials 

experienced different burn severities. The results are 

discussed in terms of the current status of knowledge 

about fire effects to buried cultural materials.

Investigation of the nature and extent of fire-related 

alteration of cultural materials represents a significant 

cultural resources management concern. Wildland fires 

can be expected to occur naturally wherever there are 

sufficient fuels. A field researcher could expect that a 

given archaeological site in a fuel-rich area has been 

burned over one or more times in the past. This fact 

leads some to conclude that the impacts wrought by 

contemporary wildland fires are negligible, ignoring 

a crucial element of the contemporary fire scenario—

fire exclusion. Since the nineteenth century, most 

natural fires occurring in rural landscapes have been 

suppressed as quickly as possible, while in the more 

distant past most fires were allowed to burn out naturally. Fire suppression has led to large accumulations 

of fuels and drastic alterations of vegetation patterns. 

These factors, in turn, support fires that burn faster, 

more intensely, and potentially wreak more damage to 

cultural sites and materials than fires of the past. The 

impacts of contemporary wildland fires on archaeological sites are potentially profound.

Available data, though scant, indicate that in addition to causing the destruction of important sources of 

information, such as organic materials, the catastrophic 

wildland fires of the modern era may confound chronometric assays, technological analyses of ceramics 

and lithics, and more. Understanding the role and 

function of wildland fires in ecosystems past and 

present has broad implications for the interpretation 

of data from archaeological sites located in all areas 

suspected to have been affected by fire. For managers 
144 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

of cultural resources, evaluating the degree to which 

buried archaeological materials have been adversely 

impacted by wildland fire is an essential part of postfire assessment and treatment.

For purposes of this discussion, the term “surface” is 

used in the manner commonly employed by archaeologists. The surface of an archaeological site is generally 

assumed to be the contemporary soil layer, generally 

the uppermost stratum at which evidence of human 

activity can be detected. Architectural stone, items such 

as sherds and lithics, and other cultural materials are 

frequently present on a site surface and are considered 

part of the site’s contents. Vegetation, accumulations of 

soil and plant debris such as duff, and other materials 

deposited on the human activity surface following site 

abandonment may obscure the archaeological surface 

and frequently must be removed before the site can 

be mapped or further studied. An archaeological site 

surface is thus more-or-less analogous to the mineral 

soil surface as the term is used by the fire community. 

Frequently, reports of archaeological survey include a 

discussion of the percentage of ground surface visible 

at the time the fieldwork was conducted, specifically 

describing the portion of the contemporary soil layer 

unencumbered by duff, snow, grass, or other materials 

that could obscure features and artifacts.

Fire Effects and Subsurface Cultural 

Resources: Previous Research ____

Previous investigations of the effects of fire on 

cultural resources have included both post-fire and 

experimental studies. Post-fire studies are conducted 

following a fire (either prescribed or wild), and involve 

collecting data from features and/or artifacts located 

within the burn perimeter. Experimental studies have 

been conducted in field settings as well as laboratory 

environments. Field experiments generally involve 

burning a parcel of land or a smaller location—such 

as piles of slash—and recording the effects on cultural 

materials, surrounding soils, etc. In laboratory environments, fire effects studies involve heating different 

artifact types (or raw materials) to varying temperatures and recording thermally induced alterations.

Experimental studies of the first type are primarily 

concerned with replicating the effects of prescribed or 

natural fires on surficial and buried archaeological 

materials, an endeavor with significant implications 

for archaeological formation processes. Laboratory 

research addresses fire effects from two perspectives: 

(1) the effects of post-occupational fires on archaeological materials, and (2) the effects of human fire use to 

modify materials.

Sidebar 7-1—Subsurface

Long Mesa Fire, Mesa Verde National Park, Colorado, 

July 8–23, 1989

References: Eininger (1990); Fiero (1991); Fish (1990); 

Kleidon and others (2007)

General Information:

•	 Elevation: 2,438.4 m (8,000 ft)

•	 Vegetation: pinyon-juniper

•	 Topography: northern 6.44 km (4 miles) of Long 

Mesa and portions of adjacent canyons and 

drainages

•	 Type of research: post-burn site assessment

Fire Description:

•	 Temperature range: hot and fast burn with variable 

intensities; 25.5–32.2 °C (78–90 °F) range

•	 Duration: 15 days

•	 Relative humidity: 15–85%

•	 Fuel: high fuel loads with continuous ladder fuels; 

fire occurred after the dry season in pinyon-juniper 

vegetation interspersed by grassy clearings 

•	 Type of fire: wildland

•	 Energy release component (ERC): 39–70

•	 Burning index (BI): 19–67

Discussion

The 1989 Long Mesa Fire occurred in Mesa Verde 

National Park, consumed about 12 km2 (3,000 acres) of 

land and burned uncontrolled for 15 days. Damage assessments of known archaeological sites in the burn area 

were conducted directly after the fire. Twenty-three new 

sites were located and assessed; 165 of the 194 known 

sites were successfully relocated. 

Field crews recorded the percentage of each site that 

was affected by fire and described burn severity. They 

also noted vegetation loss and impacts to architectural 

materials and artifacts. Suppression activities caused 

minor damage to only two sites. This was due largely 

to the work of archaeological monitors who assisted fire 

crews in avoiding damage to archaeological sites and to 

the fact that bulldozers and heavy equipment were not 

used.

Fire effects on archaeological sites were ranked as low, 

moderate, or high. High impacts included spalling and 

oxidation of architectural stone, scorching of artifacts 

and complete loss of vegetation. Sites with low impacts 

exhibited little or no observable fire effects; these sites 

were either burned only over a small section of the site 

area or subject to low burn intensity. Of the 188 sites 

evaluated, 139 (74%) were burned; 36 (19%) were highly 

impacted, 32 (17%) were moderately impacted and 71 

(38%) exhibited only low impacts (Eininger 1990). 
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 145

Post-Fire Studies of Archaeological Sites

Post-fire studies conducted in the aftermath of a 

natural or wildland fire comprise a major focus of 

research addressing fire effects on cultural resources. 

A limited number of rigorous post-fire studies of subsurface archaeological materials and contexts affected 

by wildland fire events have been conducted prior to 

the research reported here (Connor and Cannon 1991; 

Connor and others 1989; Duncan 1990; Eininger 1990; 

Fiero 1991; Fish 1990; Hull 1991; Lent and others 

1996; Rowlett 1991b; Traylor and others 1990). In 

general, these studies tend to describe subsurface 

heating effects as negligible below certain depths. 

These statements are typically framed, however, in 

terms of visible evidence of fire damage to subsurface 

archaeological materials in comparison with surface 

materials. A subset of the post-fire studies do not deal 

with archaeological sites, but instead focus on particular archaeological material types such as ceramics, 

lithics, etc.

The post-fire studies of burned sites reported here 

suggest that heating generally does not affect materials at depths greater than 15 centimeters (6 inches) 

below the ground surface, even at heavily burned sites. 

The exception to this, as indicated by the subsurface 

heating effects study described below, is the burnout 

of tree roots, which can penetrate well below 15 centimeters (6 inches) depending on the size of the root 

(and the amount of available oxygen) and serve as a 

conduit to carry heating effects to strata deep within 

“Grab samples” of fire-affected and archaeologically 

important artifacts were collected during site assessments 

(Eininger 1990). The samples included 674 sherds and 

172 lithics. Fire effects on these artifacts included fireblackening, cracking, change in luster, potlidding, and 

color change. None of these effects appeared to affect the 

artifacts’ information value (Eininger 1990).

Soil samples were collected from excavated test units 

at two of the burned archaeological sites; a few test units 

were also excavated in non-archaeological burned and 

unburned areas to provide control for analysis of fire 

effects on pollen (Eininger 1990; Fish 1990). Site rehabilitation, including erosion control, water diversion, and 

ruins stabilization, was conducted during 1989 and 1990 

(Fiero 1991).

Dome Fire, Bandelier National Monument and Dome 

Wilderness, New Mexico, 1996

References: Ruscavage-Barz (1999); Ruscavage-Barz and 

Oster (1999); Steffen (2005) 

General Information:

•	 Elevation: 1,782–2334 m (5,847–7,658 ft)

•	 Vegetation: pinyon-juniper and ponderosa pine

•	 Topography: Pajarito Plateau, on the east flank of 

the Jemez Mountains

Fire Description:

•	 Temperature range: 10.5–26.7 °C (51–80 °F)

•	 Duration: 9 days

•	 Relative humidity: 3–14%

•	 Fuel: The fire burned on the Pajarito Plateau, and 

in dissecting canyons, through pinion, juniper woodlands, ponderosa pine, and mixed conifer forests.

•	 Energy release component (ERC): 49–57

•	 Burning index (BI): 39–72

•	 Type of fire: wildland

The 1996 Dome Fire1

 started on April 25th and burned 

more than 66.8 km2 (16,500 acres) of Bandelier National 

Monument and the Jemez District of the Santa Fe National 

Forest before it was controlled on May 3rd. Assessments 

of archaeological sites were conducted immediately after 

the fire in 1996 and in 1997. Sites were assessed for burn 

severity and potential heritage resource damage. Of the 

515 sites assessed, 276 were impacted by fire. No sites 

had been disturbed by fire suppression activities. Direct 

and indirect effects of fire included spalling, cracking, 

and oxidizing of stone architecture, and soil erosion due 

to vegetation loss. 

1

 This case study refers only to the 1996 Dome fire, not the 

1993 Dome Fire that occurred in the same area. 

In 1997, Bandelier National Monument conducted a 

study of subsurface heating effects (SHE) on archaeological resources affected by the Dome Fire. Between May 

13th and August 7th, archaeologists excavated five burned 

sites. Burn severity at each site had been recorded during earlier assessments. Two of the sites were heavily 

burned, one was moderately burned and two were burned 

severely. A sixth site, excavated for emergency data 

recovery during June of 1997, was also included in the 

study. Data recovered from excavation of the unburned 

portion of this site were used for statistical control.

Subsurface artifacts, botanical specimens, pollen 

samples, and faunal remains were collected during excavations and analyzed to assess fire impacts. Researchers 

examined the extent and depth to which fire affected 

these subsurface cultural materials and analyzed data 

to determine whether subsurface impacts reflected burn 

severity. Subsurface fire effects were found only to be 

significant near to burned roots and to be independent 

of fire severity. 
146 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

sites (also see Hvizdak and Timmons 1996; Timmons 

2000). Fire may also burn longer and deeper below 

the ground surface in organic sediments (including 

cultural deposits), which contain more fuel.

An additional issue of concern is whether fire creates 

pseudo “features” that could be mistaken for cultural 

features (Connor and Cannon 1991; Conner and others 

1989; Timmons 2000). Fire-created features can result 

from burning deadfall, which causes soil oxidation in 

a pattern resembling a hearth or fire pit. In profile, 

these stains are crescent-shaped, with the thickest 

part of the crescent forming immediately underneath 

the deadfall. Treefalls can also leave basin-shaped imprints or displaced piles of rocks that resemble cultural 

features. Differentiating fire-generated features from 

cultural features is particularly important for studies 

that deal with the earliest use of fire by humans (James 

1989), and some researchers are developing methods 

toward this end (Bellomo 1991).

Post-fire data particularly germane to the case study 

results discussed below were collected from various 

prescribed fire burn units on the Kootenai National 

Forest in Montana from 1996 to 1999 (Timmons and 

others 2000). Monitoring data document a variety of 

potential and actual fire effects on cultural materials and indicate that severity of effects results from 

the interplay of many factors, including material 

composition, provenience, fuel loads, duration and 

intensity of fire, moisture levels, and degree of heat 

penetration. Most important for consideration here 

were data relating to stump “burnouts,” where the 

most dramatic effects from the Kootenai monitoring 

projects were observed. In the Dodge Creek prescribed 

burn unit, massive Douglas fir stumps that burned out 

left holes in approximately 0.4 percent of the burned 

area, resulting in numerous stump cavities up to 1.5 

meters (5 feet) in diameter and depth, with root cavities extending out 5 meters (16.4 feet) (Timmons and 

others 2000). Within the boundaries of one 16-acre site 

approximately 688 stumps were estimated to be present. The Kootenai data also indicated that the age of 

the stumps affected their susceptibility to fire. In the 

Green Basin prescribed burn unit, the older and drier 

stumps were found to be more likely to burn out in a 

single event, while green stumps only burned partially 

(Hemry 1996).

Experimental Studies Dealing with the 

Effects of Heat on Artifacts, Ecofacts, and 

Datable Materials

Experimental studies of fire and heating effects 

can be divided into laboratory and field experiments. 

The latter can be further subdivided into those that 

attempt to replicate the conditions found in prescribed 

fires, and those that attempt to replicate the conditions found in wildland fires. Instances of the latter 

are extremely rare due to the danger of an experiment running out of control and becoming an actual 

wildland fire. For this reason, such experiments are 

rarely conducted. The only case of an “experimental 

wildland fire” documented in the literature was carried out in a grassland environment, where the grass 

was cut and the soil surface was exposed in an area 

surrounding the burning experiment to prevent its 

uncontrolled spread (Bellomo 1991). Such procedures 

are less practical in forested areas, and experimental 

studies conducted under these conditions, while still 

very useful, inevitably produce results that reflect the 

more sustained heat and longer burn times created 

by slash piles (Sackett and others 1994), and may not 

actually reflect the conditions occurring in a wildland 

fire, except possibly in cases where large fuel loads 

have accumulated.

Both experimental and post-fire studies have dealt 

with the effects of fire on various artifact types. The 

goal of the post-fire studies is simply to understand 

and recognize the effects of wildland and/or prescribed 

fires on these materials. The goals of the experimental 

studies, however, are not limited to the study of effects from these two types of fires, but rather extend 

their breadth of inquiry to include understanding and 

recognizing the effects of intentional heat treatment 

on archaeological materials. Flaked stone represents 

the most common focus of the latter type of study, as 

researchers have attempted to establish the means 

for differentiating intentional from unintentional heat 

treatment and also to understand how heat treatment 

changes the “workability” of particular types of stone.

Most experiments mimicking prescribed burns have 

attempted to replicate low-intensity fires rather than 

the high intensities characteristic of wildland fires. 

Comparisons of impacts between the two types of fires 

are valid. When considering subsurface materials, 

however, one must remember that soil serves as an 

insulator to mitigate the effects of fire, even fires of 

very high intensity. For this reason, even high-intensity 

wildland fires may not impact subsurface deposits—

except in certain instances. Fires ranging from low to 

high intensity could yield similar subsurface effects 

due to this insulation.

Five experimental studies dealing with the effects 

of subsurface heating are particularly important for 

consideration. One dealt specifically with prairie fires 

(Picha and others 1991), two dealt with burning slash 

piles (Hartford and Frandsen 1992; Sackett and others 

1994), and one dealt with moderate and high intensity 

fires (Pidanick 1982). The results of the prairie fire 

indicated negligible effects to subsurface artifacts because of only minimal heat penetration to subsurface 
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 147

deposits. The subsurface ground temperature showed 

a 2 to 4 °C (35.6 to 39.2 °F) increase during the fire, 

which would not be enough to damage archaeological 

materials or soils.

A study by Hemry (1996) in the Green Basin prescribed fire unit attempted to assess the effects of 

prescribed light intensity fire on groups of historic and 

prehistoric materials at varied depths and with exposure to a variety of combustible surface materials. The 

historic materials were placed in test holes designed to 

simulate a historic dump, while the prehistoric items 

(consisting of replicated mudstone and quartzite tools, 

and antler) were placed in small groups at four different depths and on the surface. A variety of fuel types 

were located on or over the cultural materials. Post-fire 

surface observations and excavations documented a 

variety of fire effects on items located on the ground 

surfaces and within the first 4 to 5 centimeters (1.6 

to 2 inches) below the surface. The most severe effects 

were noted where a stump had burned out completely, 

to a depth of 80 centimeters (31.5 inches). A week after 

the experimental fire, a tree root was observed, still 

burning, approximately 3 meters (10 feet) away from 

its stump (Henry 1996).

Thermal Alteration of Cultural Materials 

and Features

Both experimental and post-fire studies have investigated the effects of fire on various types of artifacts 

and raw materials. Post-fire studies generally focus on 

documentation and explanation of the effects of natural 

or prescribed fires on these materials. While providing 

data that are useful in the interpretation of naturally 

induced fire effects, experimental studies also include 

investigation of the effects of intentional heat treatment. Flaked stone, in particular, has been a primary 

focus of many experimental studies, as researchers 

have attempted to differentiate intentional from 

unintentional heat treatment and also to understand 

how heat treatment changes the “workability” of particular raw materials. The results of previous studies 

that have considered the effects of heat on ceramics, 

chert, obsidian, ground and architectural stone, bone, 

paleobotanical materials, and chronometric samples 

are briefly reviewed below.

Ceramics—Given that ceramics are produced by 

exposure to heat, any subsequent refiring of ceramic 

materials may change attributes of appearance and 

technology. Refired ceramics may be difficult to analyze 

due to fire-induced changes.

Studies of thermal alteration to prehistoric and 

historic ceramics are thoroughly discussed in chapters 

3 and 6, respectively. Post-fire studies that have considered ceramic materials describe sooting or smoke 

blackening as the most common fire effect (Eininger 

1990; Jones and Euler 1986; Lent and others 1996; 

Lissoway and Propper 1988; Picha and others 1991; 

Pilles 1984; Schub and Elliott 1998; Traylor and others 1990). Those studies with a subsurface component 

note that subsurface ceramics are minimally affected 

by fire (Lent and others 1996), and that, in general, 

only those ceramics located immediately below the 

surface are impacted. The studies suggest that surface 

ceramics have the greatest potential for fire damage, 

and exhibit a range of effects including sooting, spalling, cracking, and oxidation.

The “direct effects” of heating are not the only factors 

to consider with regard to damage to ceramic artifacts. 

Chemical retardants are often used during fire suppression, and can have an effect on ceramic artifacts. 

Oppelt and Oliverius (1993) carried out a study of the 

effects of Firetrolä on prehistoric ceramics. Firetrolä 

is a foaming detergent used to extinguish forest fires; 

it is not the same chemical used in “slurry.” Ceramic 

sherds were placed in experimental fire plots and 

covered with pine duff. As the plots burned, they were 

sprayed with different concentrations of the foam. The 

results indicate a negligible effect to sherds from the 

foam. Sherds were primarily blackened from oxygen 

depletion, which caused a reducing atmosphere. However, the duff covering, and not the foam, may have 

caused this condition. Sherds sprayed with a 1 percent 

concentration of foam exhibited heavier smudging 

than those sprayed with a 0.3 percent concentration. 

Sherds in the 1 percent foam group exhibited carbon 

impregnation to depths of 0.5 millimeters (0.02 in.) 

into the sherds. The only potential problem with the 

use of foam is that it may give some ceramics the appearance of being smudged, which could be mistaken 

for a product of the original firing process.

Chert—Chert has been the subject of numerous 

experimental studies, particularly because of its 

abundance at many archaeological sites, its desirable 

flaking qualities, and the frequency with which it was 

intentionally heat-treated by prehistoric peoples. The 

effects of heating on chert are discussed in detail in 

chapter 4. Post-fire studies that have considered lithic 

materials generally do not differentiate chert from 

other lithic materials. These studies have, however, 

produced some interesting observations that are applicable to chert as well as other stone tool source 

materials. Discoloration, fire blackening, and luster 

appear to be the most common fire effects that have 

been noted on lithic artifacts (Lent and others 1996; 

Schub and Elliott 1998). Patina develops on some 

materials (Traylor and others 1990), while other 

thermally altered materials exhibit crenated (“potlid”) 

fractures and crazing. Obviously any of these effects 

could compromise interpretations of intentional thermal pre-treatment.
148 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

Obsidian—The effects of prescribed and natural 

fires on obsidian have recently become a “hot topic” due 

to the concern with the reliability of obsidian hydration 

as a dating technique. Thermal alteration of obsidian 

artifacts that have been through a fire is discussed in 

chapter 4, including the implications of fire-damaged 

obsidian for obsidian hydration. Unlike chert or other 

cryptocrystalline silicates, thermal pretreatment of 

obsidian does not improve its “workability.” Thus any 

thermal effects observed on obsidian artifacts are presumed to be unintentional, resulting from accidental 

exposure to a heat source.

Ground Stone and Architectural Stone—The 

appearance of ground stone and masonry can be significantly altered by fire. These materials may take on the 

appearance of fire-cracked rock (FCR), which results 

when rocks are naturally or culturally exposed to high 

temperatures resulting in thermal alteration, including 

spalling, fracturing, and discoloration. Concentrations 

of archaeological FCR are often interpreted as thermal 

features such as hearths, stone boiling middens, or 

roasting pits. Ground stone or masonry thermally altered by an intense fire may be mistaken for FCR from 

thermal features. Stone from thermal features—such 

as hearths or stone boiling features—or other types of 

features may also be displaced due to the creation of 

holes or pits resulting from stump burnouts.

Ground stone and masonry have been the subject 

of a limited number of experimental studies. Those 

that have been carried out, however, provide general 

information regarding temperature thresholds for 

damage and visible effects of fire. If the rocks contain 

sufficiently high natural iron content and the right 

chemical composition, oxidation of their outer layers 

by fire may produce a reddish halo effect (Peter Bennett, personal communication 1997). This effect may 

be observed by breaking the rocks open, or by examining rocks already broken by thermal shock caused by 

exposure to heat. Evidence of thermal shock such as 

spalling and cracking is also an index of fire alteration 

(Lissoway and Propper 1988). Damage of this type 

apparently does not occur until temperatures exceed 

300 °C (572 °F) (Pilles 1984).

A number of post-fire studies have documented 

thermal alteration to ground stone and architectural 

stone attributable to fire (Eininger 1990; Elliott and 

others 1998; Lent and others 1996; Lissoway and Propper 1988; Schub and Elliott 1998; Traylor and others 

1990). Fire effects include smoke blackening, spalling, 

cracking, discoloration, and oxidation of surface materials. For architectural stone, the combination of fire 

effects and erosion may confound identification feature 

type and number of features from surface observation 

(Lent and others 1996).

An experimental study conducted by archaeologists 

from the Center for Environmental Archaeology and 

Texas A&M University investigated fire effects as site 

formation processes on artificial rock features in several different settings on the Kootenai National Forest 

(Thoms 1996). Subsurface basin, platform, and pile 

features intended to simulate thermal features typical for cultural sites on the Forest were built around 

both young (10-centimeter [3.9-inch] diameter) and 

maturing (30+ years old) ponderosa pines; each feature 

contained stream-worn cobbles and pseudo artifacts. 

Surface observations following the treatment of the 

sites by fire included the creation of a “tree well” or hole 

where one of the older trees burned. Field observations 

collected several months after the fire documented that 

rocks from the experimental feature were collapsing 

into the hole where they were redeposited in a pile 

some 40 centimeters (15.7 inches) below the surface. 

The archaeologists interpreted their preliminary results as indicating that “rock-rich” features adjacent 

to burning trees or stumps may become disarticulated 

and redeposited as “reconstituted” features that may, 

however, retain potential information (Thoms 1996).

Bone—Studies that address the effects of heat on 

bones, both human and animal, are usually geared 

toward understanding the changes that occur in bone 

at different temperatures. Bone is significantly affected 

by heat, even at relatively low temperatures (Bennett 

and Kunzmann 1985). Old bones (i.e., those likely to 

be encountered at archaeological sites) exhibit a slight 

darkening of the edges at 300 °C (572 °F), acquire a 

chalky appearance at 400 °C (752 °F), and become 

“severely” chalky at 500 °C (932 °F), resembling bone 

exposed to arid conditions for a great length of time. 

Shipman and others (1984) have noted changes in color, 

microscopic morphology, crystal structure, and shrinkage in bone exposed to fire. All three color components 

(hue, value, and chroma) become progressively more 

diverse as temperatures increase; changes in low and 

neutral values begin to occur at 400 °C (752 °F).

Because post-depositional processes can also affect 

bone color, changes in color cannot stand alone as 

indices of the temperature to which archaeological 

bone has been heated in the past. Fortunately, however, structural changes may be documented. When 

examined microscopically, bone tissues appear normal 

at temperatures below 185 °C (365 °F). An increase in 

tissue roughness occurs by 285 °C (545 °F), with tissue 

becoming glassy by 440 °C (824 °F). Tissue becomes 

frothy by 800 °C (1472 °F), and the frothy areas coalesce into smooth-surfaced nodules by 940 °C (1724 

°F). Bone heated to temperatures higher than 645 °C 

(1193 °F) tends to exhibit larger crystals than bone 

heated to temperatures below 525 °C (977 °F). The 

most ambiguous results occur for shrinkage, where the 

mean percent shrinkage is not constant at different 

temperatures.
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 149

These data indicate that heat effects on bone range 

from minimal to extreme. The rate of temperature 

increase also affects how quickly bone is broken down. 

The more rapid the temperature increase, the faster 

bone is hydrolized, chemically altered, and destroyed. 

One can infer from these studies that subsurface bone 

probably will not be significantly altered due to the 

insulating effects of the surrounding sediments.

Pollen and Other Botanical Remains—Analysis 

of fossil pollen grains, or palynology, can be used to 

reconstruct the vegetation history of an area. It thus 

provides information about paleoecology that can be 

extremely useful for both cultural and natural resources 

managers. It is also sometimes used for archaeological 

cross-dating (Michels 1973).

Pollen analysis takes advantage of the fact that 

wind-pollinated species of trees, shrubs, and grasses 

release large quantities of tiny pollen grains (0.025-

0.25 cm [0.01-0.1 in] diameter, less than 10-9 grams 

in weight). The grains are propelled by winds up to 

distances of 100 to 250 kilometers (62 to 153 miles). 

Throughout the year but especially during flowering 

season, pollen grains from the composite vegetation 

of a region accumulate on the ground as “pollen rain,” 

depositing several thousand grains per square centimeter. Stratified sediments of pollen rain constitute 

recoverable records of past vegetation and, considered 

in sequence, can sometimes provide a relative dating 

technique for archaeological sites. Regional climatic 

change leaves traces in the pollen sequence by changing the relative composition of key floral species, thus 

each period in a pollen chronology has a “signature” 

that can be compared to the regional pollen spectrum.

Archaeologists collect samples for pollen extraction during excavation. First, a control sample of soil 

containing modern pollen rain is collected from a site 

surface for comparative purposes. Subsurface pollen 

samples are collected from undisturbed loci with clear 

archaeological contexts, such as within defined features 

or beneath fallen building stones. Within stratified 

sites, samples are collected from each stratum or level, 

highest to lowest, as pollen “columns.” Occasionally, 

artifacts such as metates are given a “pollen wash” to 

secure a sample.

In order to “type” pollen grains, numerous attributes 

of the size, color, and the precise shapes of the walls of 

the grains are examined under binocular microscopy, 

at magnifications from 200 to 1000x. In the laboratory, 

samples are prepared for analysis in a variety of ways, 

depending upon the kinds of pollen anticipated—some 

species are more fragile—and the kind of soil matrix 

the pollen is extracted from. Generally, the pollen is 

sieved, washed, and stained. In order to be useful, 

pollen grains must be identifiable as to genus and, 

if possible, species. Fire effects to pollen can include 

consumption (as with any organic material, but less 

likely in below-ground contexts) as well as thermal 

alteration.

Macrobotanical specimens analyzed by archaeologists are preserved portions of plants. These can 

include pieces of formerly cultivated species such 

as corn, beans, squash, amaranth, and sunflowers, 

as well as other vegetative materials that were 

economically important (such as fibers used for 

cordage, matting, and clothing). Such specimens 

are extracted from soil samples collected during 

excavation, preferably from undisturbed features. 

The soil samples are processed by combining them 

with water. The heavier soils and rock fragments 

sink, while the floating “light fraction” is skimmed 

off with a strainer, placed on cheesecloth to dry, tied 

off, and bagged in paper. Once drying is complete, 

the specimens are classified according to species. In 

some cases, the heavy fraction is screened and any 

identifiable botanical fragments are also identified. 

Macrobotanical specimens damaged by fire can be 

consumed or so altered by exposure to heat and soot 

that identification is difficult or impossible.

The few fire studies that have been conducted on 

botanical samples have documented minimal damage 

to subsurface materials (Fish 1990; Ford 1990; Scott 

1990). Palynological analysis of subsurface samples 

from the 1977 La Mesa Fire in Bandelier National 

Monument indicates that pollen grains in these contexts are not affected by “...even the most intense 

ground fires” (Scott 1990). Fish’s (1990) pollen study in 

the wake of the Long Mesa Fire also attests that fires 

have minimal effects (if any) on subsurface pollen.

Although Fish concludes that the Long Mesa Fire 

event did not affect subsurface pollens, she provides a 

useful discussion of methods for evaluating potential 

fire effects on pollen samples. According to her interpretations, intense heat can damage pollen grains to 

the point that their diagnostic morphological features 

are unrecognizable, thus analysis should include a 

calculation of the proportion of grains too damaged for 

identification. Fire-altered pollen grains may take on 

a dark yellow-brown color, will not absorb the staining agent (thus obscuring morphological attributes), 

and will have thickened or swollen walls. Finally, 

pollen samples from fire-affected sediments may exhibit high ratios of charcoal fragments, as occurred in 

Fish’s study. It is possible that charcoal generated by 

post-occupational fires may be indistinguishable from 

charcoal resulting from prehistoric cultural activities 

as reflected in archaeological pollen samples.

Ford’s (1990) study of subsurface flotation samples 

from the La Mesa Fire sites demonstrates that these 

samples were not damaged by the fire, even though 

the site surfaces had experienced intense heating. 
150 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

Ford also notes that archaeological charcoal may be 

more friable than recent charcoal, a characteristic that 

could potentially be used to differentiate fires resulting from prehistoric activities from those occurring as 

post-occupational natural fires.

Dendrochronology ______________

Tree-ring dating, or dendrochronology, is a chronometric technique that has been applied with great success in the Southwestern United States and elsewhere 

(Michels 1973; Smiley and others 1953). Because the 

method involves counting the annual growth rings 

and matching them to the known master sequence 

for their species, the consumption of wood by fire may 

make it difficult or impossible to tabulate the rings. 

Robinson (1990) concluded that the La Mesa Fire did 

not significantly affect either of two tree-ring samples 

submitted for analysis from subsurface deposits. Unless a wood specimen is sufficiently damaged by fire, 

it still has the potential to yield an accurate date.

Radiocarbon Dating (14C) _________

This dating technique is one of the most common 

and useful in archaeology. Although charcoal is not 

the only material that yields radiocarbon dates, it is 

certainly one of the most frequently available; other 

suitable materials include bone, shell, wood, and iron 

(Michels 1973). Destruction of perishable materials is 

the most harmful effect that fire can have on radiocarbon samples. Charcoal is often very fragile when 

recovered from archaeological contexts, thus it is more 

likely to be totally consumed during a later fire than 

other materials. As noted in Fish’s 1990 study, however, 

mixing of modern and archaeological charcoal may 

occur at fire-damaged sites. This mixing could result 

in erroneously young dates for particular contexts if 

charcoal from a post-occupational fire is submitted 

for radiocarbon dating. Alternatively, contamination 

of the archaeological sample with modern charcoal 

could simply confound the radiocarbon assay.

Stehli’s study of radiocarbon dates from sites burned 

over during the La Mesa Fire was inconclusive because 

no control samples from unburned sites of the same 

age were available for comparison (Stehli 1990). One 

of three radiocarbon dates run on archaeological charcoal collected from one of the burned sites appeared to 

be erroneously young (A.D. 1910). Without unburned 

control samples, Stehli could not determine whether 

this date reflected effects of the La Mesa Fire. The 

charcoal in the sample may, of course, have resulted 

from a post-occupation fire event.

Archeomagnetic Dating __________

This technique relies on the known variance of the 

earth’s magnetic field through time (Michels 1973). 

The magnetic minerals in clays orient according to 

the polarity of the earth’s magnetic field when clay 

is heated to a sufficient temperature, and retain this 

orientation when the material cools. This magnetic orientation is compared to an independently established 

known variation curve to derive a date for the sample, 

thus it is important to record the sample orientation 

before collection, and to collect the sample from a nonportable object (Rice 1987). Clay linings or hearth rocks 

containing magnetite and hematite in archaeological 

hearths or kilns and burned wall or floor plasters are 

ideally suited to this chronometric technique. The date 

obtained from the archeomagnetic assay reflects the 

last time that the sample was heated. The assumption 

for archaeological samples is that the last heating of 

the material took place sometime during the occupation 

of the site, and that the date obtained thus represents 

the date that pertains to the occupational history of the 

site. Reheating clay-containing features at sufficient 

temperatures during post-occupational fire events 

will reorient the magnetic minerals, thus significantly 

compromising the interpretive value of archeomagnetic 

samples taken from features in burned-over sites.

Results from archeomagnetic dating of material from 

hearths excavated after the La Mesa Fire indicated that 

although an erroneously young date was obtained from 

one set of samples, the problem could be compensated 

for, and an apparently accurate date was obtained 

from a second set of samples from the same feature 

(DuBois 1990). The subsurface heat probably did not 

reach a temperature that compromised the potential 

of the hearth to yield a reliable archeomagnetic date.

Obsidian Hydration ______________

Of all the dating techniques discussed thus far, obsidian hydration (OH) has received the most attention 

in terms of fire effects. Although OH is not a heatdependent dating method like archeomagnetism, the 

results can still be significantly affected by fire. This 

dating method measures the thickness of the hydration layer or band (sometimes referred to as a “rind”) 

on the surface of obsidian artifacts, where water has 

been absorbed through a freshly broken surface (Beck 

and Jones 1994; Skinner and others 1997). The rate 

at which the hydration layer forms is influenced by 

several factors including chemical composition of the 

obsidian, temperature, and relative humidity (see Beck 

and Jones 1994 and Friedman and Trembour 1983 

for a discussion of the effects of these variables). The 
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 151

band can be measured and used to provide relative or, 

more rarely, estimated chronometric dates for obsidian 

artifacts1. It is, however, extremely vulnerable to the 

effects of fire.

Several experimental studies have examined the 

temperatures at which obsidian hydration bands are 

modified in order to understand the effects of fire on 

band width (Bennett and Kunzman 1985; Green 1997; 

Skinner, Thatcher, and Davis 1997; Trembour 1990). 

Trembour’s (1990) work with obsidian after the 1977 

La Mesa Fire is one of the earliest studies to address 

the problem. He notes that the hydration band on 

obsidian becomes increasingly diffuse when heated, 

starting at about 350 °C (662 °F), and eventually is 

lost at about 430 °C (806 °F). Although the band may 

eventually reappear after cooling, it apparently does 

not return to its original thickness, remaining deep 

and somewhat diffuse. Other studies of the effects of 

heat on hydration bands have yielded similar results 

(Green 1997; Skinner and others 1997).

Obsidian artifacts deposited on or near the ground 

surface are the most vulnerable to thermal alteration. 

Previous studies considering the effects of fire on hydration bands in subsurface contexts have recorded minor 

damage, if any. Subsurface artifacts with damaged 

hydration bands have generally been recovered from 

strata occurring from 5-10 centimeters (1.97-3.9 in) 

below the ground surface (Skinner and others 1997).

Deal (1997) examined the effects of prescribed fire 

on obsidian hydration bands in an innovative field experiment. Using obsidian artifacts that had previously 

been sourced and hydrated, she placed specimens at 

and below the ground surface in a variety of contexts 

with respect to the fuels present (light, woody, and 

log) in two different prescribed burns. Temperature 

and duration of heat were measured throughout 

each fire event. Following the burns, the samples 

were resubmitted for hydration measurements at 

the same lab where the original measurements were 

taken. The results indicated that both exposure to 

elevated temperatures as well as long duration of heat 

exposure, even at relatively low temperatures, affect 

obsidian hydration bands in similar ways. For the fall 

burn, which had particularly significant results, Deal 

recorded a maximum ground surface temperature of 

523 °C (973.4 °F) 2-1/2 hours after the flaming front 

passed over the obsidian specimens. The temperatures 

for this sample declined slowly, finally reaching 46 °C 

(114.8 oF) after 44 hours.

1 An estimated date is derived from the width of the hydration 

band combined with the rate of band expansion.

Case Study: Investigation of 

Subsurface Heating Effects at 

Bandelier National Monument, 

New Mexico ____________________

The Dome Fire of 1996 at Bandelier National 

Monument provided an opportunity to investigate 

the impacts of catastrophic fire effects on subsurface 

archaeological materials. The timing and duration of 

the wildland fire event were known. The severities at 

which affected sites were burned were calculated using 

information collected during the post-fire assessment 

of sites within the perimeter of the burn. These data, 

in turn, were used to select a sample of sites burned 

at varying severities (as well as an unburned control 

site) for testing through excavation. The Subsurface 

Heating Effects (SHE) study examined the extent to 

which fire impacted subsurface archaeological materials, and whether burn severities were reflected in the 

subsurface archaeological record.

The examination of subsurface materials from sites 

systematically documented as affected by different 

burn severities marked a significant departure from 

previously reported subsurface fire studies. Data from 

the post-fire assessment that began immediately following the 1996 Dome Fire allowed for classification of 

burned sites into light, moderate, and heavy categories; 

archaeological and ecosystemic data were collected 

and used in making site assessments. These data, 

in turn, were used to select sites for testing. Specific 

characteristics (such as stump burn-outs) that could 

have particularly serious implications for archaeological sites were also examined. Tested loci within the 

Dome Fire perimeter included one unburned control 

site, one lightly burned site, one moderately burned 

site, and two heavily burned sites. In addition, a site 

that had been through a recent prescribed fire (as well 

as several natural fires) outside of the Dome Fire area 

was selected for purposes of comparison.

The SHE study investigated a number of categories of information related to thermal alteration of 

subsurface cultural resources:

1. Thermal alteration of soils and other ecofacts, artifacts, and cultural features, including variations 

of observable changes at different intensities.

2. Correlation between measurable heating effects 

on archaeological materials and visible changes 

in soil or rocks or other materials with which they 

are associated.

3. Degree to which the subsurface heating effects 

observed in the wake of a wildland fire correspond 

to those reported from experiments that mimic 

prescribed burns.

4. Datable materials compromised by thermal 

alteration.
152 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

5. Potential for detecting ancient fires in archaeological excavations by visible correlates and/or 

consistent heating effects that may skew the 

results of materials analyses.

6. Correspondence of surface and subsurface burn 

severity data.

Thermal Alteration of Ecofacts and 

Cultural Materials

Investigation of changes in soils, artifacts, ecofacts, 

and other cultural materials began with examination of 

the stratigraphic profiles from each excavation unit to 

determine the depth of heat penetration from the Dome 

Fire. The fire, represented by Stratum I in all of the 

soil profiles from the burned sites, was characterized 

by a distinct layer of ash, charcoal, and burned organic 

materials. The thickness of the burned layer for each 

excavation unit varied from 2 to 15 centimeters (0.8 

to 5.9 inches), but exceeded 8 centimeters (3.2 inches) 

at only one site, which also exhibited a small burned 

stump.

Ceramics recovered from the burned strata exhibited 

various degrees of sooting, spalling, oxidation, and 

crackled slips. Flaked stone artifacts exhibited sooting, spalling, crazing, luster changes, and residues. 

All of the ground stone artifacts affected by the fire 

were sooted except for one, which was oxidized. The 

heaviest fire effects recorded for ceramics and flaked 

stone were observed on artifacts recovered from LA 

115152, a site that was moderately burned during the 

Dome Fire (fig. 7-1). An alligator juniper growing inside 

the structure at this site was completely consumed by 

the fire, including the root system. The burning roots 

allowed the fire to penetrate into subsurface deposits, 

affecting subsurface archaeological materials deep 

within the site.

Ecofactual data examined for the SHE study included 

pollen, faunal, and macrobotanical samples. Examination of pollen samples from burned and unburned 

contexts indicated that burned samples tend to have 

higher percentages of degraded pollen compared to 

unburned samples. A corresponding loss of pollen or a 

bias to specific pollen types were not apparent, however, 

in the burned samples. It was not possible to evaluate 

whether surface pollen was completely consumed by 

the Dome Fire because the surface pollen samples were 

collected 1 year after the fire, which allowed sufficient 

time for natural pollen to accumulate on the surfaces 

of the tested sites.

Subsurface macrobotanical samples also exhibited 

fire effects. The introduction of charred modern materials into the archaeological record for macrobotanical 

materials was the primary effect of both the Dome Fire 

and the prescribed fire. Samples from burned contexts 

also exhibited higher frequencies of vitrified charcoal. 

Fire-affected samples were primarily recovered from 

the upper fill of excavation units. Even though more 

charred remains were found in samples from the upper 

fill of moderately and heavily burned sites, however, 

these same samples still yielded fairly high proportions 

of uncharred remains.

Faunal data were recovered from two of the project 

sites. One site was unburned and served as the control 

site. The most severely burned bone in the project assemblage was recovered from the unburned site, and 

most likely resulted from contact with either burned 

roof material or a cooking fire.

At the second site (LA 3840), Dome Fire effects were 

confined to the upper stratigraphic profiles, although 

the site had been heavily burned. Faunal material was 

first encountered 16 centimeters (6.3 inches) below 

the ground surface, well below the levels affected by 

the fire. Fire effects were noted on faunal materials 

from this site, but they are attributable to contact with 

either burned roof material or a cooking fire.

Figure 7-1—Burn-out of stumps leads to subsurface damage on culturally sensitive sites. 1996 

Dome Fire, Bandelier National Monument site 

LA 115152. Heavily burned site due to burn-out 

of an alligator juniper stump. Effects noted more 

than 1 meter below ground surface (bgs): artifact 

damage-smudging, etc., soil matrix oxidized 

and contaminated with modern charcoal, dating 

methods compromised, pollen and macrobotanical specimens damaged (Ruscavage-Barz and 

Oster 1999). 
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 153

Correlation Between Heating Effects on 

Archaeological Materials and Visible 

Changes in the Surrounding Matrix

The matrices surrounding the cultural materials 

recovered during the SHE study were examined to 

determine whether observable fire effects could be correlated with effects on associated non-archaeological 

materials, such as soil and rock. Comparison of burned 

archaeological and non-archaeological materials 

from the tested sites indicated some correlation 

between the two categories of materials in terms of 

fire effects. Spalling and cracking of natural rock 

generally accompanied spalling and cracking of 

architectural material; fire-affected archaeological 

materials tended to co-occur with ashy soil, burned 

vegetation, and charred trees. Such co-occurrence 

vegetation and archaeological material damage is 

common throughout the Southwest (fig. 7-2).

Figure 7-2—Examples of spalling of sandstone due to heating during the 2002 Long Mesa Fire, 

Mesa Verde National Park, Colorado: (a) panorama, (b) close up (from Buenger 2003).
154 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

Figure 7-3—LA 118345, Bandelier National 

Monument site LA 115152. Site burned during a 

prescribed fire (Ruscavage-Barz and Oster 1999).

Subsurface cultural materials and corresponding 

matrices in the sample investigated for the SHE study 

generally exhibited fire effects within the first 10 to 

15 centimeters (3.9 to 5.9 in.) of fill. Root and stump 

burnouts were the exception because they allowed the 

fire to penetrate subsurface deposits and burn deep 

underground. In these cases, the full range of fire effects were observed, including spalling and sooting of 

rocks, accumulations of ash deposits in root pipes, and 

damage to associated archaeological materials.

Correspondence Between SHE Study Fire 

Effects and Effects Noted in Experimental 

Fires

The results of the SHE study are consistent with 

other post-fire studies that have determined that fire 

effects are rarely found below the first 10 centimeters 

(3.9 in.) of fill at archaeological sites (Conner and others 1989; Hemry 1996; Lent and others 1996; Thoms 

1996; Traylor and others 1990), unless a burned root 

mass or stump is present. As described above, fire 

effects were noted on materials within the first 10 to 

15 centimeters (3.9 to 5.9 in.) of fill.

One site, LA 115152, proved the exception because 

the root system of an alligator juniper burned into a 

structure during the Dome Fire (fig. 7-3). Fire effects 

on natural and archaeological materials were noted 

throughout the structure, with the burned root system and ashy soil continuing well below the limits of 

the excavation. The site (LA 118345) affected by the 

prescribed fire, described in more detail below, also 

provided evidence of deep subsurface penetration by 

fire, again due to the fact that an alligator juniper 

provided a conduit.

Very few fire-affected artifacts were observed overall, 

with most found on the surface. Most of the burned 

subsurface artifacts from the SHE sites cannot attribute their alteration to the Dome Fire because they 

were recovered from levels too far below the ground 

surface to be impacted by natural or prescribed fires. 

Instead, these artifacts probably attained their burned 

appearance as a result of contact with burned roof 

materials or hearths.

Alteration of Datable Materials

Four different dating methods were tested for this 

project: archeomagnetism, dendrochronology, radiocarbon, and obsidian hydration. The results obtained 

from these methods were compared with the ceramic 

data to determine whether the dates obtained from the 

various methods are accurate or have been affected by 

the Dome Fire (or other post-depositional processes).

The only samples for archeomagnetic dating were 

obtained from a hearth at LA 3840, located approximately 1.11 meters (3.6 feet) below the ground surface. 

Since the Dome Fire was evident only in the first 5 

centimeters (2 in.) of fill for this site, any anomalies in 

the archeomagnetic dates were not attributable to the 

Dome Fire.

Wood samples were collected from two sites for dendrochronology. Two wood samples from one site were 

recovered from deep levels unaffected by the Dome Fire. 

The samples from the other site, located outside the 

Dome Fire perimeter but affected by a low-intensity 

prescribed burn, were recovered from the lower fill of 

the structure and, likewise, were not impacted by the 

prescribed fire.

Radiocarbon (14C) dates were obtained for four of the 

project sites. The radiocarbon dates from three sites 

were somewhat consistent with the ceramic dates, and 

were thus considered to provide reliable indications of 

the approximate dates that the sites were occupied. 

The remaining site did not yield any ceramics, thus 

the reliability of the radiocarbon dates could not be 
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 155

assessed. Most significant, even where modern charcoal 

had been mixed with archaeological deposits inside of 

a structure, the radiocarbon dates did not appear to 

have been compromised.

Twenty obsidian artifacts were submitted for obsidian hydration (OH). Although no chronometric 

dates were obtained from the samples, the widths 

of the hydration bands were compared to site dates 

obtained from ceramics and 14C assays to determine 

whether hydration band width was consistent with 

site dates. The OH results are somewhat ambiguous 

and in most cases do not agree with site ages based 

on other chronological data. Band widths obtained for 

the samples range from 1.1 to 8.9 microns, which is 

a very wide range considering that most of the sites 

date to the A.D. 1300s and 1400s.

Band widths greater than five microns for obsidian artifacts from three of the sites suggested that 

the flaked edges of the samples were manufactured 

thousands, not hundreds, of years ago (Thomas Origer, 

personal communication 1998). If the obsidian samples 

were affected by the Dome Fire, band widths should 

have been thinner rather than thicker or the hydration bands would be missing (Green 1997; Skinner 

and others 1997; Trembour 1990).

Results obtained from dateable samples from the 

project sites indicated very little impact to these materials from the Dome Fire. Reliable dates, with the 

exception of obsidian hydration, were obtained from 

most samples, including those derived from extremely 

disturbed contexts. Thus the Dome Fire did not compromise the various dating methods employed, because 

most of the samples came from subsurface contexts 

that were below the zone of effect for the Dome Fire.

Potential for Detecting Ancient Fires, 

and Correspondence of Surface and 

Subsurface Burn Severity Data

To address the issue of detecting ancient fires in archaeological excavations, a structural site (LA 118345) 

located in an area for which a 200-year fire history was 

available was included in the SHE study sample. This 

site had been burned over during a prescribed fire in 

1994.

The stratigraphic profile of LA 118345 was examined 

for evidence of earlier fires. No evidence of previous 

fires was apparent in either of the test units outside 

the structure. Within the structure, however, an oxidized soil layer containing burned duff below a level 

of clean unburned fill was encountered. This burned 

layer was encountered 20-26 centimeters (7.9-10.2 in.) 

below the ground surface, while the effects attributable to the prescribed fire effects ended 7 centimeters 

(2.8 in.) below the ground surface. The lower burned 

layer was therefore assumed to represent an earlier 

fire event. Two 14C samples were collected from the 

earlier burned layer, producing calibrated dates of 

A.D. 1025-1290 and A.D. 1290-1425, respectively. 

These dates indicated that the fire event was not part 

of the 200-year sequence already known but instead 

represented a much earlier fire event.

Based on the stratigraphic position discussed above, 

the fire event appeared to have occurred after the 

structure collapsed. This interpretation conflicted 

somewhat with the radiocarbon dates because the 

dates from the fire event pre-dated radiocarbon dates 

obtained from materials near the structure floor below 

the roof fall level. The later fire event was not visible 

in the stratigraphic profile, and no other fire events 

were evidenced above the level of the roof fall.

The limited data from the SHE study suggested that 

ancient fires are difficult to detect from archaeological 

contexts. No ancient fires were detected either during 

excavation or in stratigraphic profiles at the other 

study sites, and perhaps the only ancient fires potentially recognizable in archaeological contexts would be 

catastrophic wildland fires rather than low intensity 

periodic fires like those believed to have characterized 

the landscape prior to the late A.D. 1800s.

The second question considers whether the level of 

burn severity determined by surface observations is 

reflected in subsurface deposits. The answer is no. The 

depths of penetration are similar at all sites, whether 

lightly or heavily burned. The only exceptions are 

attributable to the root burnout that occurred within 

one structure, and near another.

At LA 115152, there was no clear break between 

Dome Fire debris (e.g., ash, charcoal, burned organic 

materials) and archaeological sediments. This condition was a direct result of the burning root system, 

which carried the fire underground. If the root system 

had not ignited, then it is likely that only the surface 

of the site would have been impacted, similar to another SHE site (LA 3840) that was heavily burned on 

the surface but did not exhibit any fire damage to the 

structure interior. The evidence from LA 3840 indicates 

that surface burn severity is not reflected in subsurface 

archaeological contexts absent a root burnout.

Summary and Conclusions _______

One of the important lessons of the SHE study is 

that a significant difference exists between potential 

fire effects to surface versus subsurface materials. The 

effects that fire can have on surface archaeological 

materials ranges from negligible to extreme depending on the severity and residence time of the fire on 

the site. This contrasts sharply with the range of fire 

effects on subsurface deposits, which appear to be 

relatively protected from fire effects below the first 

few centimeters except when a burning stump and/or 
156 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

root system provide a conduit for heat penetration to 

subsurface cultural deposits.

The potential for damage caused by such “burnouts” 

was exhibited at two of the Bandelier SHE study sites 

impacted by wildland fire and prescribed fire, respectively. In both cases, the stumps and roots of large 

junipers ignited and burned underground causing 

significant damage to subsurface deposits. An alligator juniper growing in a structure at LA 115152 was 

totally consumed during the Dome Fire. The burning 

stump carried the fire into the root system inside the 

structure, heavily impacting the structure fill. Most 

of the root system was completely consumed, leaving 

root cavities lined with ash and charcoal that later 

collapsed, resulting in mixing of archaeological fill 

and modern ash/charcoal.

A less severe root burnout resulting from a prescribed 

fire occurred at LA 118345. The root system of a cut 

juniper stump ignited, even though the stump had been 

cut to minimize fire effects to the site. The root cavity 

extended well below the level of the structure floor. 

Fortunately, the stump was adjacent to the exterior 

structure wall and, when it burned, did not impact 

the structure interior. The evidence from this site 

demonstrated that prescribed fires, as well as wildland 

fires, can significantly impact subsurface archaeological contexts. Even though the stump had been cut to 

minimize potential fire impacts, it had been left as a 

“stub” rather than being flush-cut and/or treated to 

prevent ignition (for example, by covering with soil).

The evidence from the SHE study, and other fire 

effects studies discussed here, has significant implications for the interpretation of archaeological data from 

sites suspected to have been burned over in the past, as 

well as the management of cultural resources. Depending on the kinds of cultural materials and fuels present 

at a given site—as well as the specific characteristics 

of the fire or fires that have passed over it—not only 

the integrity of the site but the information potential 

of its contents may be destroyed or altered. Given 

the right conditions, severe fire effects may include 

heavy damage to subsurface deposits, long thought 

to be insulated from thermal and other fire-caused 

alteration.

The accumulations of fuels on contemporary landscapes have reached historically unprecedented levels, 

thanks to decades of aggressive fire suppression and 

exclusion. The potential for fires to destroy or seriously compromise the interpretation of the archaeological record has correspondingly increased. Cultural 

resources managers and field archaeologists would 

be well advised to include consideration of regional 

fire histories in environmental reconstructions, and 

data analyses. Understanding the role of fire as a 

site formation process is essential for every cultural 

resources specialist working in landscapes that have 

been touched by fire.

Postscript

These studies will be more than a decade old by the 

anticipated publication date of this volume. We believe 

that the results of this work stand the test of time quite 

well. We are proud of this pioneering effort. We hope 

it will be useful to future “pyroarcheologists.”
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 157

Chapter 8:

Effects of Fire on Intangible Cultural 

Resources: Moving Toward a 

Landscape Approach 

John R. Welch

Long before the Secretaries of the Departments of 

Agriculture and Interior signed the Federal Wildland 

Fire Management Policy in 1995, most land and resource professionals in the United States had recognized unprecedented fuel accumulations in western 

forests as management priorities. The Policy, its 2001 

revision, the 2003 Healthy Forests Restoration Act, and 

the sequence of costly fire seasons that spurred these 

developments made it clear that fuels reduction would 

remain the driving issue in forest management in the 

United States for the foreseeable future (Franklin and 

Agee 2003). The central message embedded in this 

policy shift is that the foregoing century of fire suppression and other management practice has disrupted the 

balance among land, resource conditions and values, 

as well as the people who rely on public and Indian 

lands for livelihood, raw materials, and senses of place 

(see Karjala and Dewhurst 2003; Moseley and Toth 

2004).

As the implications of enabling fire to reclaim its 

roles in wildland ecosystems continue to unfold, we 

are learning about how we value, view, and treat 

public lands, forests, fire, archaeological and historical 

sites, and associated human communities. The forest 

and fire management reorientation underway in the 

United States opens a window for looking at whether 

commonly applied standards and protocols for cultural 

resource conservation are adequate.

This chapter examines intangible cultural resources 

that are defined as conceptual, oral, and behavioral 

traditions providing the social context for artifacts 

and sites. Often derived from time-tested associations 

between ecosystems and human communities, intangibles are the fragile and often threatened or neglected 

linkages among geography, cultures, forests, trees, 

and people. Thus, intangible cultural resources warrant careful consideration in all stages of forest and 

heritage policy and practice, including wildland and 

prescribed fire and other fuels reduction programs.
158 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

Fire Policy and Standard Practice in 

Cultural Resource Management____

Translating fire management policy into effective 

and balanced practice requires detailed understanding 

of local and regional ecosystems (Franklin and Agee 

2003) as well as associated historical and prospective 

human roles. Initial implementations of the 1995 Fire 

Management Policy (updated in 2001) recognized the 

need for better coordination and collaboration with 

the local communities directly affected by fire programs on public lands (http://www.nwcg.gov/branches/

ppm/fpc/archives/fire_policy/index.htm, accessed 

March 30, 2011). By 2010, thousands of communities 

had completed wildfire protection plans developed in 

collaboration with government agencies. These plans 

generally emphasize short- and mid-term fuels 

reduction and incident management. Although 

there are notable exceptions in the form of in-depth 

consultations concerning landscape-level fire effects 

assessments as well as fire management planning 

(see Burns and others 2003), there are few indications 

that consultation has widely permeated protocols and 

practices for re-establishing or sustaining fire-landcommunity relations.

The lack of sustained or widespread consultation 

regarding local communities’ uses and values of 

forests limits our understanding of the varied ways 

in which human communities relate to wildland fire 

and public land management. Factors affecting relationships among communities, fire, and management 

range from ecosystem processes, global timber markets, and national policies to fuel models, community 

politics, and local patterns of forest utilization (Burns 

and others 2003). These relationships are becoming 

more complicated in western North America because 

of diminishing commercial timber reserves, increasing 

fuel loads, surging human occupation in and use of 

forests, global climate change, and escalating claims 

by Native Americans to government-to-government 

consultation rights and other recognitions of sovereignty (Field and Jensen 2005). This interplay of 

people, places, politics, lands, values, dynamics, and 

fire is attracting attention by researchers, managers, 

local community advocates, and leaders throughout 

the world (for example, South Africa National Parks 

2006; Yibarbuk and others 2001).

For cultural resources, the most immediate and apparent result of the policy shift has been a substantial increase 

in the number of acres slated for “clearance” (that is, project compliance with relevant statutes and regulations) 

in preparation for fuels reduction by prescribed burning, 

hand, or mechanical thinning. Relevant measures are 

difficult to come by, but the 2007 Healthy Forests Report indicates that fuels reduction treatments have been 

applied to more than 138,000 km2

 (34 million acres) 

from the period of 2001 through 2009 (http://www.forestsandrangelands.gov/resources/reports/documents/

healthyforests/2009/FY2009HFAccomplishments.

pdf, accessed March 30, 2011. Through one of the dozens of Healthy Forests Restoration Act subprograms, as 

of early 2006, one region of the U.S. Forest Service had 

awarded about 130 stewardship contracts for fuels reduction and other treatments on 665 km2 (162,000 acres) 

in the southeastern United States. Plans call for the 

expansion of this and other HFRA programs as technologies and markets are developed to utilize the surfeit of 

smaller diameter trees being removed through thinning. 

For the foreseeable future, legions of archaeologists will 

be engaged in cultural resource surveys covering terrain 

likely to be affected by forest and fuels treatments.

What are survey teams looking for and what are we 

finding? More to the point, what are we failing to seek 

and what are we missing? There are slight variations 

from region to region and agency to agency, but the 

general protocol for addressing cultural resources 

threatened by land alterations have remained much the 

same for the last three decades: identify, document, and 

avoid or minimize effects. Tools for finding, recording, 

and limiting impacts to tangible cultural resources have 

become more sophisticated in the digital era (Banning 

2002). Legal, ethical, and practical developments 

have made it clear that intangible cultural resources 

deserve and require consideration (UNESCO 2006; 

Wild and McLeod 2008). Nonetheless, on-the-ground 

efforts to integrate wildland fire management and 

the conservation of intangible cultural resources have 

been limited and isolated.1

 Fire policy has shifted emphatically away from knee-jerk fire suppression. Most 

archaeologists and many other resource professionals 

recognize that artifacts and built features are merely 

the tangible manifestations of the cultural traditions 

and community values that are our ultimate concerns. 

Standard cultural resource management practice, 

however, continues to equate to finding, documenting, and providing limited protection for the physical 

dimensions of cultural resources. In other words, the 

importance of intangible cultural resources and the 

closely related needs for in-depth consultation are, 

except in a few isolated instances, being either downplayed or overlooked in a rush to reduce fuel loads 

and accommodate other policy mandates. Most land 

managers have started to see the forests through the 

trees; however, to extend the metaphor, only a few 

have caught glimpses of the cultures through the sites 

(fig. 8-1).

1 USFS operations in California may qualify as an exception to 

this general claim, but publications documenting these innovations 

have yet to appear.
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 159

Approach, Scope, and Goals

This chapter suggests that we can and should do 

a better job of considering the full range of cultural 

resources in fire-related management contexts and 

offers some suggestions in this regard. The discussion 

considers communities and landscapes as the sources 

and repositories for values that drive management 

decisions and social systems. Communities and landscapes, along with the specific places and associated 

intangible cultural resources from which we derive our 

distinctive and sustaining identities, are the primary 

cultural resources that deserve foremost management 

consideration.

Cultural resources, the objects, places, and traditions significant in culture and history, exist in both 

tangible and intangible forms. Tangible cultural resources include sites, structures, districts, artifacts, 

and documents associated with or representative of 

cultures, processes, and events. Tangible cultural 

resources also include plants, animals, and other 

environmental elements as well as physical features, 

such as caves, mountains, springs, forest clearings, 

dance grounds, village sites, and trails—particularly as 

these may be associated with deities, spirits, ancestors, 

or ceremonies. Intangible cultural resources include 

conceptual, oral, and behavioral traditions, most of 

which overlap and are interdependent. Most tangible 

cultural resources are finite and irreplaceable if lost 

or destroyed; intangible cultural resources, although 

often vulnerable, are produced by each generation. 

Intangible cultural resources may be renewed and 

expanded through intergenerational transmission and 

various forms of creative endeavor (http://www.nps.

gov/dsc/d_publications/d_1_gpsd_4_ch4.htm, accessed 

July 21, 2010). Most or all tangible cultural resources 

have intangible components in the form of associations 

and significance; many intangible resources have 

tangible components.

Implicit in the above definitions, however, is the 

truth that many cultural resources, especially intangibles, cannot be identified, fully documented, or have 

their significance assessed by archaeologists or other 

professionals without engaging representatives of the 

source culture (fig. 8-2).

Figure 8-1—Tangible cultural resource threatened by fire.
160 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

Fire effects on cultural resources, tangible or intangible, may entail consequences for personal and 

communal identities and their spiritual health. Information exchange is clearly implicated. Sustained 

institutional and interpersonal relationships are an 

essential basis for recognizing intangible cultural resources, determining the best and most appropriate 

means for their conservation and, perhaps most importantly, understanding these resources both in their 

own terms and in terms of management implications. 

Traditional ecological knowledge (TEK) has justifiably 

attracted most of the research attention directed toward 

the linkages among intangible cultural resources, fire 

ecology, and management (Berkes and others 2000; 

Raish and others 2005; Turner 1999). Identifying the 

full spectrum of cultural resources associated with a 

project area and assessing the full range of effects on 

cultural resources potentially associated with a project 

or program requires knowledge available only from 

the culture or cultures that create, use, and maintain 

connections to the resources.

No systematic attempt is made here to review previous studies on this subject. The reason for this is the 

broad range of relevant issues and subjects including, in 

addition to those already mentioned, American Indian 

philosophy and pre-contact environmental stewardship 

(Pyne 1982, 1995; Williams 2000), disaster sociology 

(Quarantelli 1998; Stallings 2002), community forestry 

(Baker and Kusel 2003), cultural property law (Hutt 

and others 2004), etc.—and the paucity of previous 

research focused on how and why fire mediates ties 

between people and place.

Instead of attempting to survey this vast terrain of 

concepts, practices, and policies, the primary objective 

of this chapter is to offer a framework of ideas and tools 

for supporting constructive interaction among representatives of local and management communities—

groups that care about and have distinctive, yet often 

Figure 8-2—Cultural resource protection crew assigned to the Cradleboard incident command team, White 

Mountain Apache Tribe lands, Arizona.
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 161

complementary perspectives on this and other land 

management issues. The discussion focuses on how 

to approach the effects of fire on intangible cultural 

resources by engaging local communities in identification and assessment. The ultimate goal is to enhance 

and expand land and fire management programs and 

policies respectful of and responsive to all pertinent 

cultural resources, as well as to the social, spiritual, 

scientific, economic, practical, and aesthetic values. 

Community consultations concerning intangible cultural resources provide an excellent point of departure 

for broader agency/tribe/public discussions of common 

goals, long-term plans, and best management practices.

Why Consider Fire Effects on 

Intangible Cultural Resources? ____

There are at least two broad reasons for considering 

the full spectrum of cultural resources in the context 

of land and fire management: (1) statutes and regulations most familiar to the management community; 

and (2) common sense, ethical concerns, and human 

rights issues. Legal mandates, especially as they relate 

to the complex relationships among Federal agencies and Indian tribes, were the original impetus for 

including a chapter on intangible cultural resources 

in this volume. Numerous Federal, tribal, State, and 

local statutes, regulations, court decisions, and policies 

recognize cultural resource values and set standards 

for their protection. These authorities generally require 

the identification and assessment of cultural resource 

values in the course of project planning and decision 

making (chapters 1, 9). The procedural requirements 

boil down to looking (and consulting) before you leap, 

rather than specific protections (Zellmer 2001).

Through four decades of experience with the National 

Historic Preservation Act (NHPA), the National Environmental Policy Act (NEPA), and other pertinent 

authorities, the parties involved in Federal land modification (legislators, applicants, land managers, oversight agencies, tribes, stakeholders, and courts) have 

negotiated widely recognized procedural standards 

in order to expedite projects and program deliveries. 

Although there are many good reasons for the use 

of standard protocols, one drawback is the difficulty 

of effecting positive change once standardization is 

in place. In the case of the “identify, document, and 

avoid or minimize effects” protocol, the uniformity has 

given rise to a checklist approach to cultural resource 

management that generally discourages individual and 

organizational sensitivities to novel or complicated 

situations. Streamlining environmental and cultural 

resource compliance processes too often results in 

steamrolling the often cumbersome issues linked to 

intangible cultural resources (Welch and others 2009b).

The second reason derives from common sense, 

ethical concerns, and human rights issues. If these 

concerns seem at first beyond the scope of a NEPA 

analysis or NHPA compliance process, it is worth 

recalling Congress’ explicit purpose for NEPA: “to use 

all practicable means and measures... to foster and 

promote the general welfare, to create and maintain 

conditions under which man and nature can exist in 

productive harmony, and fulfill the social, economic, 

and other requirements of present and future generations” (Sec. 101 [42 USC § 4331]). Similarly, NHPA’s 

first section aptly addresses tangible cultural properties as the physical manifestations of that which 

NHPA was created to protect. To paraphrase NHPA’s 

core principles (www.achp.gov/nhpa.html, accessed 

July 21, 2010):

•	 History and culture are the foundations for national spirit, direction, and orientation.

•	 Cultural resources deserve conservation as a vital 

element of living communities.

•	 Preservation of irreplaceable cultural heritage 

serves national, educational, aesthetic, scientific, 

and economic interests.

•	 Collaborative partnerships among governments 

at all levels, corporations, institutions, and individuals are required to expand and enhance 

cultural heritage conservation.

When management decisions affect cultural resources, they also affect people and local communities—sometimes in direct and damaging ways. A 

combination of bureaucratic expediency and market 

forces has redirected NHPA purposes toward a comparably sterile cultural resource management emphasis 

on buildings, sites, objects, and undertakings (King 

1998:6-19). Nonetheless, cultural resources—especially 

those linked to or reflective of the spirits and vitalities 

of distinctive communities—deserve protection, or at a 

minimum, careful consideration before being burned, 

altered, or appropriated for new uses. NHPA was 

not created specifically to protect intangible cultural 

resources, but the view that conceptual, oral, and behavioral traditions may be disregarded in the course 

of government-sponsored projects and programs is 

similarly indefensible. Both NHPA and NEPA provide 

conceptual and practical foundations for collaborations 

to address intangible cultural resource issues and 

concerns (table 8-1 lists pertinent Federal authorities 

requiring tribal consultations in the context of land 

and fire management).
162 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

Table 8-1—Some Federal authorities requiring tribal consultation in relation to land and fire management 

program planning and implementation.

Federal authorities

Statutes and Regulations

National Historic Preservation Act of 1966

(P.L. 89-665; 80 Stat. 915; 16 USC. 470; 36 CFR 800)—NHPA “Section 106” mandates 

Federal agency consideration of effects of projects on “historic properties” (places, 

structures, objects with historical significance). Requires Federal agencies to consult with 

potentially affected tribes on the areas of effect of undertakings, on the identification of 

properties, on whether an undertaking will affect a property, and on plans for avoiding or 

reducing adverse effects. 1992 amendments recognize rights of tribes to assume State 

Historic Preservation Officer (SHPO) functions for Indian lands and sites of cultural and 

religious significance as historic properties.

National Environmental Policy Act of 1969

(P.L. 91-190; 83 Stat. 852; 42 USC 4321; 40 CFR 1500, et al.)—NEPA establishes 

national policy for the protection and enhancement of the environment, including the 

preservation of “important historic, cultural, and natural aspects of our national heritage.” 

Requires Federal agencies to communicate with tribes on the significance of the impacts 

of projects and programs on tribal lands and communities. NEPA is often overlooked as a 

viable link between project planning, the human environment, and trust responsibility.

American Indian Religious Freedom Act of 1978 

(P.L. 95-431; 92 Stat. 469; 42 USC 1996)—AIRFA establishes federal policy for 

preservation of American Indian, Eskimo, Aleut, and Native Hawaiian right of freedom to 

believe, express, and exercise their traditional religions, including access to and use of 

sacred sites and objects. 

Archaeological Resources Protection Act of 1979

(P.L. 96-95; 93 Stat. 721; 16 USC 470; 43 CFR 7.5; 25 CFR 260)—ARPA requires 

Federal agencies to consult with tribes that may have cultural or religious ties to a site or 

other resource that may be affected by issuance of an ARPA permit. 

Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act of 1990

(P.L. 101-601, 25 USC. 3001)—NAGPRA requires issuance of ARPA permit for intentional 

excavation of cultural items from Federal or Tribal lands and Indian involvement in permit 

decision; Requires tribal involvement in event of inadvertent discovery of cultural items.

Executive Orders and Other Authorities

EO 13007 (5-24-96)—Indian Sacred Sites

Requires Federal land managing agencies to “(1) accommodate access to and 

ceremonial use of Indian sacred sites by Indian religious practitioners and (2) avoid 

adversely affecting the physical integrity of such sacred sites.” Further requires tribal 

consultation on policies and implementation. 

EO 13175 (11-06-00)—Consultation and Coordination with Indian Tribal 

Governments

Establishes Federal policy of Regular and meaningful consultation and collaboration 

with Indian tribal governments in the development of regulatory practices that affect 

their communities and the avoidance of imposing unfunded mandates upon tribal 

governments;

Requires Federal agencies to (1) be guided “by principles of respect for Indian tribal 

self-government and sovereignty, for tribal treaty and other rights, and for responsibilities 

that arise from the unique legal relationship between the Federal government and 

Indian tribes;” and (2) maintain “an effective process to permit elected officials and other 

representatives of Indian tribal governments to provide meaningful and timely input;” 
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 163

Cultural Resources in Local and 

Management Community 

Context ________________________

Recognizing and understanding the diverse values 

embedded in and ascribed to cultural resources is a 

critical first step in providing for their protection and 

appropriate use. Putting this proposition into effect 

requires communication and cooperation among the 

individuals and communities concerned with one or a 

group of related cultural resources. Communities are 

defined here as groups of people who share interests 

and places. Two general community types merit distinction, definition, and discussion.

Local Communities

Local communities are most American Indian tribes 

and other place-orientedgroups that derive elements of 

their world view, identity, and value systems through 

long-standing and ongoing attachments to their region of current or previous occupation or use. Local 

communities deserve attention because of growing 

recognition of management guidance and other benefits derived from collaboration with those willing to 

share knowledge of intergenerational experience with 

particular ecosystems. The place-based communities 

most relevant to this discussion are typically enclaves 

with variably porous boundaries defined by legal status, 

ethnicity, religious orientation, or some combination. 

Prominent examples include tribes, Hispanic villages, 

and communities defined by participation in irrigation 

systems or religions.

Management Communities

Management communities are clusters of offices 

and individuals having designated regulatory, policy, 

program, and trust responsibilities for ecosystems, 

public and Indian well-being as well as cultural 

resources. This community includes researchers, 

decision makers, and implementation and enforcement teams. Community is a useful and appropriate 

referent because these groups often have substantial 

interests—personal as well as professional—in establishing and sustaining constructive relationships 

both within their clusters and among people, forests, 

fire management, and cultural resources in specific 

geographical settings. Many biologists, hydrologists, 

archaeologists, foresters, soil scientists, enforcement 

officers, and decision makers develop and maintain 

long and deep individual associations with particular 

regions that complement their professional associations 

(Welch 2000; Nicholas and others 2007). A culture 

of professional stewardship is especially prominent 

within the U.S. National Park Service and the U.S. 

Forest Service. Both agencies are staffed by highly 

trained and skilled professionals—many of whom are 

following in their parents’ footsteps—with profound 

personal attachments to public landscapes (Gartner 

1999:2). These ties serve as powerful performance motivators for stewards and should not be trivialized. On 

the other hand, they should not be confused with the 

sense of place or connection experienced by American 

Indians and others to whom land and landscapes are 

inherited birthrights rather than acquired affinities.2

Differences in perspectives and interests frequently 

constitute barriers to communication and collaboration between local and management communities 

(Burns and others 2003). For better or worse, most 

communication opportunities occur in the context of 

management community planning driven by government program mandates and policies. The compliance 

checklist emphasizes quick planning and early project 

implementation. This expedited process may not allow sufficient time to define the full range of cultural 

resources or examine long-term means to safeguard 

their values, much less to integrate management and 

community interests.

Most chapters in this volume reflect the materials 

science approach that has dominated discussions on 

the effects of fire on cultural resources. The discussion 

here seeks to highlight prospects for transcending both 

the compliance and the materials science emphases. 

Although prioritizing consultation and collaboration 

holds promise, it does not, by definition, predetermine 

outcomes. A local community, for example, might see 

prospective fire effects on a sacred site or other cultural 

resource with crucial intangible values primarily in 

terms of threats to cultural traditions (Welch 1997). 

This perception could, depending on the values at 

stake, translate into preferences that fire either be 

excluded from the site in perpetuity or allowed to 

play its natural ecosystem role without regard to site 

contents or boundaries. Either approach would pose 

management challenges. Decision makers might see 

the issue primarily in terms of the proposed treatment’s compliance checklist—what needs to be done 

to satisfy regulatory requirements? Researchers in the 

management community might view the situation as 

an opportunity to either learn more about the cultural 

traditions or, if inclined toward materials science, 

about the physical and chemical impacts of fire on 

artifacts, petroglyphs, or other site elements.

2 Another discussion might include issue-oriented communities 

as a third community type, defining these as individuals and organizations that derive their commonality from advocacy for one or 

more stewardship goals or practices. Although issue communities 

are important stakeholders in resource management, advocacy 

for both preservation and consumptive use is beyond the scope of 

further discussion here. 
164 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

Much work remains to be done if we are to balance 

the compliance and materials science approaches to 

fire effects with community-oriented efforts to manage 

for the full range of fire effects on the full spectrum 

of cultural resources. One low-cost starting point is 

attention to vocabulary used in communications with 

local communities. Bureaucratic and compliance jargon such as “undertaking,” “area of potential effect,” 

and “mitigation” impede free flow of information from 

non-specialists. Common binary terminology—such 

as: site vs. non-site, prehistory vs. history, nature vs. 

culture—has persisted beyond most analytic utility 

and also often hinders collaboration between management and local communities. These false dichotomies 

and their underlying concepts tend to constrain rather 

than enhance relationships between managers and 

landscapes, landscapes and local communities, descendent communities and cultural resources, etc. Any 

language or program that defines cultural resources 

independently from local communities increases the 

likelihood of misunderstanding and conflict (Welch 

and others 2009a).

It is difficult to assess the depth or breadth of this 

terminological issue, and many proactive fire management programs are engaging local communities to 

achieve in-depth understanding of cultural resource 

issues. Nonetheless, two extensive bibliographies of 

fire effects on cultural resources (Halford 2001; Rude 

and Jones 2001) compiled into a joint publication of the 

Bureau of Land Management (Halford 2001) contain 

no uses of or references to intangible, sacred or traditional ecological knowledge (TEK). Only one reference 

was made to tribal communities and two were made to 

traditional fire use. The point is that neither the details 

of agency procedures for complying with statutes and 

regulations, nor the degree of pitting, cracking, and 

spalling on pot sherds are generally of interest to local 

communities. At the risk of oversimplification, what 

local communities care most about is the continued 

use and enjoyment of important places. In contrast 

to compliance and materials science, however, project 

and program planning are often important to local 

communities. Planning initiatives provide the basis 

for local community outreach on issues ranging from 

the protection of sacred sites to individual employment 

prospects. Landscape concepts and consultation provide good points of departure for engaging local and 

management communities’ interests and goals along 

with those of multiple stakeholders (Burns and others 2003). It bears mentioning, however, that in the 

absence of decision maker willingness to terminate or 

modify a project or program that threatens intangible 

cultural resources, consultation cannot be expected to 

either satisfy a community concerned with the protection of the resources or lay the foundations for future 

collaboration.

Landscapes as Common 

Ground ________________________

In accord with Haecker (chaper 6), a landscape approach to fire effects provides a flexible framework 

for identifying and evaluating the significance of 

diverse cultural resources in ecological, historical, 

and community context. Landscapes are defined here 

as constellations of physical elements and symbolic 

associations with earth surfaces. Landscapes are culturally constructed and thus constitute one type of 

intangible cultural resource (Ashmore and Knapp 

1999). This definition is distinct from the common use 

of landscape in forest and fire management planning 

contexts to refer simply to regions or groups of timber 

stands (Finney 2001). As is true for cultural resources 

in general, landscapes do not exist independently from 

local communities. In other words, without reference 

to historical and conceptual associations, landscape is 

space rather than place (Tuan 1977).

Because the identification of landscapes requires 

local community engagement, the landscape approach 

invites detailed considerations of how people have 

interacted with lands, plants, and animals through 

systems of meaning as well as through behavior and 

technology. Linkages among tangible cultural resources, local communities, ecosystems, and management 

initiatives, such as the Wildland Fire Policy, often seem 

elusive. Landscapes provide literal and figurative common ground (Zedeño and others 1997). Concepts and 

vocabulary underlying landscape approaches achieve 

greater coherence and relevance when related to local 

community perceptions and values. Many cultural resources are intangible, and most occupy or play roles 

in landscapes. A landscape approach thus provides 

tools for organizing and understanding intellectual 

and practical issues engaged by the topic of fire effects 

on cultural resources.

Zedeño and others (1997:126) suggest that landscapes 

are defined and characterized by three dimensions: 

formal, historical, and relational. The formal dimension 

is what can be seen, heard, tasted, or felt—the physical 

characteristics and resource properties of a landscape. 

The historical dimension is what has happened on and 

with a landscape through time—the sequential associations among places, resources, and communities. 

The relational dimension is what links material and 

conceptual realities—the social and symbolic connections that make landscapes meaningful and useful.

Thinking about landscapes in terms of formal, historical, and relational dimensions complements the more 

straightforward notion of landscapes as compilations of 

spatial-temporal-symbolic ‘layers’ that change through 

time in terms of formal and relational characteristics. 

This historical or developmental approach, which 

has become increasingly useful through geographic 
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 165

information systems (GIS), seeks to identify each layer 

in terms of places, resources, characteristics, values, 

and meanings as they represent local community perceptions and interests (Corbett and others 2006). More 

than one layer may be required to portray a landscape 

for a single community having evolving interests (for 

example, pre-reservation vs. late 20th century formal 

and relational dimensions). In the context of land and 

fire management, geography and local communitybased mapping offers the common ground required 

to highlight connections among resource classes, local 

community resource uses, and prospects and limitations for fuel treatments and other disturbances (Lewis 

and Sheppard 2006). If cultural resources are to endure 

as functional pillars of community spirit and identity, 

their values (religious, social, economic, educational, 

and management) must be recognized, incorporated 

into planning frameworks, and engaged in pursuit of 

common ground objectives (Welch and others 2009a,b).

The fact that landscapes appear to easily accommodate cultural, historical and management perspectives 

may also be a prospective stumbling block: landscapes 

are difficult to define and delimit. Although never infinite, landscapes often eschew specific boundaries. This 

limitation raises philosophical questions, but these are 

often easily, if not exhaustively addressed in landscape 

approaches to land and resource management. In these 

contexts, geographical boundaries for plans, programs 

and actions are rigorously defined by pre-established 

jurisdictional and budgetary frameworks. If potential 

conflicts between local community landscape definitions and management community programs can be 

resolved, then applied research employing landscapes 

to integrate resources, communities, and values contribute to landscape theory, as well as more immediate 

management objectives (Karjala and Dewhurst 2003).

Beyond Compliance and Materials 

Science________________________

Applying a landscape approach to cultural resource 

issues in fire management requires a departure from 

previous emphases on mitigation of fire effects on 

cultural resources in which effects and resources are 

defined primarily by the management community. 

Changes in laws, public opinion, and professional ethics have highlighted the inadequacies of compliance 

and materials sciences approaches for addressing 

local community concerns. The statutory and policy 

mandates relevant to these concerns reflect a growing 

responsiveness to issues raised and emphasized by 

American Indians and other local community representatives. Gaps are likely to persist between statutory 

possibilities and management realities. Regardless 

of where one turns for help, consultation with local 

community representatives remains one answer to 

pressing questions. Core subjects include the effects 

that land management programs and projects may 

have on cultural resources, as well as general interests 

in building understanding and partnerships in public 

land and resource management contexts.

Previous and ongoing research into the role of fire in 

the American West prior to the establishment of land 

and fire management agencies and policies has pushed 

fire effects on cultural resources discussion beyond the 

compliance and materials sciences approaches (Dods 

2002). Investigations of local communities’ uses of 

burning and accommodations to wildfire (Blackburn 

and Anderson 1993; Pyne 1982; Raish and others 2005) 

have highlighted the intimate links among cultures, 

landscapes, and fire. For example, according to Wukchumni scholar Hector Franco (1993:19), landscape 

burning was integral to the Yokuts economic and 

religious life: “Indian people, we talk to fire. We’ve 

learned through religious teachings that fire lives 

inside of us.... Fire was thought of in a very reverent 

manner.” The abundant literature on American Indian 

use of fire also underscores the important point that 

landscapes are not today, and never have been in the 

past, static entities that can be preserved without major 

losses of resilience. Like the cultural resources they 

contain and sustain, the survival of many landscapes, 

including wilderness areas, as healthy and meaningful 

entities is dependent on respectful and considerate use 

by the communities of which they are a part.

The Sonoran Desert oases of Quitovac and Quitobaquito are good examples of complex habitats sustained 

by and integral to American Indian communities.

Through burning, flood-irrigating, transplanting, 

and seed-sowing...O’odham families have nurtured a 

diversity of plant and bird species far greater than that 

for any areas of comparable size.... Yet after the last 

O’odham left Quitobaquito in the 1950s, a park superintendent decided to deepen the oasis pond, eliminate 

burning and irrigation for pastures and orchards, and 

halt any replanting of cottonwoods, willows, or other 

wild plants, native or non-native. As the oasis lost its 

dynamic nature, biologists began to notice declines in 

the endangered pupfish and mud turtle populations 

there....Whereas disturbance was once equated with 

threat by most conservation biologists and wilderness 

advocates, it is now recognized that some wild plants 

and animals require a certain level of exposure to 

fires, floods, or loosened soils (Anderson and Nabhan 

1991: 29-30).

This account would be even more sobering if it included 

discussion of the effects of the disrupted management 

regime on the O’odham community for whom the oases 

are critical elements of group identity and history.
166 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

Careful consideration of the pre-management roles 

of fire in American Indian, Hispanic, and early Anglo 

communities is required for several reasons. First, 

use of fire reflects culturally based conceptions of 

landscapes, fire, stewardship, and of the links among 

them. Such conceptions must be included in management vocabularies as bases for communications with 

local communities and, perhaps more importantly, 

to afford glimpses of landscapes from distinctive, 

time-tested viewpoints. Second, pre-industrial use of 

fire has, in many world regions, profoundly shaped 

ecosystems, landscapes, and community and intercommunity relations (table 8-2 lists uses of fire). It 

should not be a surprise, then, that management 

community restrictions on burning have angered 

local communities, alienated them from landscapes, 

and affected vegetation regimes, habitat, and other 

important resources. Management communities need 

to know the full range of factors that have shaped current conditions and must, as complements to relevant 

research (for example documentary, tree ring, and land 

use studies) consult local community representatives.

To focus and extend this line of argument, the history 

of Federal land management is too often a history of dividing people from places and resources critical in their 

material and spiritual lives. There is value in building 

upon many excellent examples of local-management 

collaborations through holistic approaches to land 

and resource conservation. Decision makers and researchers who think that local communities cannot 

be trusted stewardship partners are encouraged to 

review and emulate instances of community-focused 

efforts to sustain ecosystem health while providing 

for human needs (Agrawal and Gibson 1999; Berkes 

2004; Coconino National Forest 1999; Maines and 

Bridger 1992; Netting 1993). Even where elders and 

cultural specialists holding location- or issue-specific 

knowledge or training are unavailable or unwilling 

to consult with management communities, local community interests are valid sources of management 

recommendations. The bottom line is that Federal 

and State lands are public lands, and we—trustees 

and beneficiaries alike—are obliged to seek better 

ways to balance, maintain, enhance, and perpetuate 

the diverse values embedded in these lands.

Steps and Stumbling Blocks in 

Inter-Community Collaboration ____

Each step in a landscape-oriented approach to the 

identification and assessment of links between fire 

management and cultural resources involves, at a 

minimum, an exchange between local and management 

communities. Generalized steps in the Federal land 

management compliance process are outlined below 

in terms of opportunities to recognize interests shared 

by local and management communities and to engage 

a landscape approach for exploring common ground 

and reaching agreement on management issues.

Several principles that serve to facilitate and enhance 

communications and collaborations deserve restatement. Each local community is unique, existing in its 

particular place and time because of historical processes 

operating on distinctive cultural and geographical 

substrata as well as current interests and goals. For 

this reason and because of the often contentious history of relationships between local and management 

communities, there is ample potential for improved 

collaborations based on the specification of common interests. Community forestry studies provide examples 

and discussions of the needs and benefits of refocusing 

Table 8-2—Non-domestic uses of fire in pre-industrial communities (Raish and others 2005).

Non-domestic uses of fire

Clear land for agriculture fields and pastures

Replenish soil nutrients in agricultural fields

Kill woody species in rangelands and encourage grass growth

Increase wild seed production

Stimulate shoot formation – the production of straight shoots for basketry and other implements

Improve growth of both wild and cultivated tobacco and other plants

Kill and control varmints, vermin and flying insect pests

Drive and hunt game

Create diversions to facilitate raiding of or escape from enemies

Destroy enemies’ food stores, agricultural fields, homes, hiding places
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 167

land and resource management through attention to 

the interests and goals of local communities (Baker and 

Kusel 2003; Gibson and Koontz 1998; Henderson and 

Krahl 1996; Kelly and Bliss 2009; Kleymeyer 1994).

Consultation is defined here as an exchange of information and views as part of a good faith effort to 

reach agreement. Many specific issues associated with 

fire effects on cultural resources and landscape-level 

analyses have yet to be addressed. Stoffle (1998) provides a nine-step consultation program developed in 

the context of Department of Defense efforts to engage 

Indian tribes in processes prescribed by the Native 

American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act of 

1990 and the executive order on Sacred Sites (13007). 

Burns and others (2003) offer a model for engaging 

diverse stakeholders, developing shared understandings, achieving a convergence of goals relating to how 

fire-dependent landscapes should look and function, 

and launching collaborations in pursuit of the goals. 

In November 2008, the Advisory Council on Historic 

Preservation (ACHP) released “Consultation with 

Indian Tribes in the Section 106 Review Process: A 

Handbook,” http://www.achp.gov/regs-tribes2008.pdf 

(accessed August 2, 2010). This addition to NHPA guidance includes issue-by-issue interpretations as well as 

four summative recommendations and numerous useful suggestions. The four principal points are “Respect 

Is Essential; Communication Is Key; Consultation: 

Early and Often; Effective Meetings Are a Primary 

Component of Successful Consultation.” The National 

Association of Tribal Historic Preservation Officers 

(2005) prepared Tribal Consultation: Best Practices 

in Historic Preservation, which provides specific approaches and tools for working with tribes within a 

NHPA framework. On the basis of these works and 

experience linked to forest and fire management, the 

suggestions here may be useful to representatives of 

management and local communities. Communication 

and the prospects for constructive collaboration can be 

enhanced by understanding and employing the following principles in consulting or otherwise interacting 

with local communities:

People First

•	 Build trust through respectful relationships. Even 

in the context of government-to-government relations, consultation occurs between individuals; 

there is no substitute for genuine personal attention to other participants and their perspectives. 

On the other hand, a professional, transparent, 

and respectful atmosphere for consultation 

based on a history of mutual trust is often more 

important than either the individuals involved 

or whether communications are face-to-face 

(NATHPO 2005:26). Without a combination of 

personal and community investment, consultation is usually unsustainable.

•	 Establish clear and open communications with at 

least one duly designated representative from potentially affected or interested local communities.

•	 Prioritize communications with representatives 

of those communities most affected by the project or program. In an ideal world, these will be 

the representatives most interested in and well 

informed about the consultation topic.

•	 Empower representatives to help set the definitions, priorities, times, places, media, and agenda 

for consultations. Document information for circulation to all consulting parties with a request for 

assistance in assuring that the record is faithful 

to the proceedings.

•	 Designate at least one individual who is not an 

official community representative to serve as the 

official keeper of consultation records and notes.

One Local Community at a Time

•	 Recognize commonalities and divergences among 

local communities and consider employing these 

to structure consultation processes.

•	 Make it possible for representatives of distinctive 

communities to have the exclusive attention of 

researchers and decision makers. Provide equal 

time for each local community in such settings.

•	 Avoid use of one community representative to 

assess or address issues of potential interest to 

a second, separate community.

•	 Avoid pursuit or engagement of multiple points 

of contact in order to identify individuals or organizations more likely to provide sensitive or 

accommodating information. It is reasonable to 

expect, encourage, and even insist upon a single 

official position on a particular issue from each 

involved community.

Deal Face Up

•	 In advance of face-to-face consultation, identify 

and respect the authorities, responsibilities, and 

goals of those participating in the communications. Avoid face-to-face meetings prior to the 

disclosure of the purpose and scope of the consultation, including policy and schedule mandates 

or limitations.

•	 Establish a respectful, but rigorous mutual 

understanding of mandates and prerogatives associated with the consultation process and likely 

outcomes. Acknowledge the costs associated with 

consultation and collaborate on means to reduce 

and share the financial and time commitments.
168 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

•	 Facilitate stakeholder access to all data being engaged in the decision process and in understanding the full range of issues and values at stake.

•	 Avoid the creation of any obligation on the part of 

stakeholders to assume agency duties or responsibilities without compensation, or to otherwise 

participate in the interactions if they are not 

ready or willing to do so.

•	 Provide for the appropriate acknowledgement—

typically from the head of the agency—for any 

individual or community that assumes duties that 

contribute to the achievement of management 

community goals or mandates.

The Sooner the Better

•	 Engage stakeholders as early as possible in project planning or decision making. Avoid eleventh 

hour notifications and short time frame response 

deadlines.

•	 Request local community representatives’ assistance in establishing procedural time lines and 

in anticipating likely contingencies.

•	 If the consultation requires additional time and 

a schedule extension is a possibility, collaborate 

in developing a new consensus-based schedule.

•	 Until consultation is completed, make sure that 

all parties are aware of the schedule for the next 

steps and of what actions will facilitate these 

steps.

Go to the Source

•	 Create opportunities for stakeholders to provide 

first-hand accounts of the cultural resources they 

care about, especially through the definition and 

description of landscapes. Knowledgeable leaders or technical specialists should be engaged 

as full partners or hired to assist in meeting the 

responsibilities of management communities in 

relation to large, complicated, or controversial 

programs or activities.

•	 Visits to project areas and other landscapes are 

useful contexts for consultation.

•	 Avoid privileging publications, experts not recognized by the local community, and stereotypes 

about the local community over group memory, 

self-perception, and self-representation.

•	 Get help as necessary, through training in cultural 

sensitivity or conflict resolution. If mistrust or 

conflict persists to the point of impeding communications, consider changing the focus of a 

consultation to procedural matters, such as the 

use of a professional facilitator or dispute mediator known or acceptable to the local communities.

Respect Tribal Sovereignty

•	 Recognize tribes’ rights and privileges, recognized 

statutes, court decisions, and executive orders.

•	 Acknowledge Federal trust responsibility for the 

welfare and advancement of individual Indians 

and Federally recognized tribes. Federal agencies 

do not have special fiduciary responsibilities to 

State-designated tribes.

•	 Honor tribal requests for government-togovernment communications. A tribe’s elected 

leadership may designate its representation and 

insist upon documented delegations of authority 

from the head of the management or program 

agency. A Federal agency designee may, in turn, 

request documentation for the delegation of 

authority from the tribe’s governing authority.

•	 Consider the benefits of developing memoranda 

of understanding or other agreements to guide 

consultations.

The adoption and application of these principles 

entails substantial investments in communications. 

Available resources may be inadequate, and any limiting factors should be disclosed to the consulting parties. 

On the other hand, such communication promises to 

provide significant and largely unprecedented benefits 

to those contributing to the dialogues, as well as to the 

ecosystems potentially affected by proposed programs 

or actions. Experience and study of consultation appears to be converging on the general formula that 

respect leads to trust, trust to collaboration, collaboration to success, and success to additional success 

(NATHPO 2005; Welch and others 2009b).

Summary and 

Recommendations ______________

Approaching intangible conceptual, oral, and behavioral traditions as cultural resources requires open and 

sustained consultations between land managers and 

local communities having substantial experience with 

the lands under management. Proper consultation can 

facilitate identification of a full spectrum of values and 

their associated cultural resources, thus enabling the 

definition of landscapes and the assessment of fire effects on regional, site, and artifact levels. The broader 

and deeper understanding produced by consultation of 

this sort—perhaps in conjunction with participatory 

GIS or other forms of community mapping—promises 

to improve the planning basis for the conservation and 

treatment of forests and woodlands where fire plays 

a role.

Although much of this chapter may read like an 

ambitious recommendation, the following ten points 
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 169

summarize the discussion and offer specific guidance 

for addressing the effects of wildland fire on intangible 

cultural resources.

1. Unlike wildland fire, which exists independently 

from humans, intangible cultural resources attain definition and value only through and with 

groups that rely on them. The alteration or loss 

of cultural resources—whether through fire or 

another agent—can have profound and deleterious effects on the resources themselves, as well 

as on groups and individuals deriving elements 

of their identities and senses of place from these 

resources. It bears mention that many local 

communities regard wildfire effects on cultural 

resources as “natural” and often even preferable 

in comparison to prescribed burning or other 

management actions or land alterations. This 

perspective acknowledges fire as a powerful 

planetary element that demands respect and, in 

many instances, deference. Human endeavors 

and institutions, especially management communities, seldom receive comparable deference 

from local communities.

2. A landscape approach offers potent and flexible 

means for consultation, research, and planning 

in the broad context of fire effects. Applicable in 

both planning and post-fire incident scenarios, 

the landscape approach is intended to foster 

broadened, community-oriented consultation concerning the conservation of cultural resources in 

the context of public land management in general 

and fire and fuels management in particular (see 

Field and Jensen 2005). Management communities should make the most of landscapes and 

other common ground with local communities. 

The land and its health provide excellent points 

of departure and goals for stewardship collaborations. One visionary collaborative model involves 

local communities reclaiming their intrinsic roles 

as creators and sustainers of cultural resources; 

research communities gathering information to 

assess ideas and provide new perspectives; governance communities of decision makers working 

for the long-term interests of their constituents; 

and land managers serving liaison roles by fostering beneficial ties among these communities 

and the ecosystems that are the ultimate source 

of our health, wealth, and happiness (Kelly and 

Bliss 2009).

3. Federal land managers’ statutory, regulatory and 

trust obligations are generally met and exceeded 

by a common sense, good neighbor policy of communication and collaboration concerning the consideration of the full range of cultural resources 

and potential effects in the course of planning 

for programs and projects (for example, forest 

management plans, prescribed burn plans, best 

management practices for fire suppression, etc.). 

Additional guidance concerning landscape-level 

approaches to the identification and consideration 

of cultural resources is available in National 

Register Bulletins 30 (Guidelines for Evaluating 

and Documenting Rural Historic Landscapes) and 

38 (Guidelines for Evaluating and Documenting 

Traditional Cultural Properties).

4. Decision makers and researchers should embrace opportunities to serve local communities 

in addition to scientific truths or management 

objectives. Many of the sacrosanct and vitalizing 

practices and meanings that once bound people to 

their lands and to one another have been lost or 

degraded as local communities have been obliged 

to interact with their lands according to alien and 

alienating rules and concepts imposed by management communities. Approaching fire effects 

on cultural resources through emphasis on either 

compliance checklists or materials science typically results in self-limiting perspectives, criticism 

from local communities, and heightened potential 

for conflict. The results of this alienation, coupled 

with global climate change, continental-scale pest 

problems, and ever-increasing population pressure, are seen in the widespread disintegration of 

ecosystems, local communities and links among 

them. Local communities and landscapes deserve 

consideration as management priorities.

5. Wildland fires often create unique opportunities 

in cultural resource science, management, conservation, and inter-community collaboration. These 

opportunities are typically short-lived, as fire 

and its indirect effects often elevate and escalate 

the potential for vandalism and theft, watershed 

destabilization and loss due to rehabilitation activity. In general, the more recently created or used 

the cultural resource, the greater the potential 

effects that fire may have on the resource. This 

is true both because a more recently created or 

used site is more likely to contain fire-sensitive 

items and features and because such a site is more 

likely to be valued—in its immediate post-use or 

pre-fire condition—by individuals and communities. This is not to suggest that truly ancient sites 

are disrespected by local communities or should 

be disregarded by managers.

6. The embeddedness of cultural resources in landscapes is true both literally and figuratively. 

Tangible cultural resources are very often located 

within, and sometimes fully encapsulated by, 

soil systems. Soil systems are components of watersheds, and watersheds are almost invariably 

affected by post-fire processes involving sediment 

relocations. Activities associated with wildland 
170 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

fire suppression, especially heavy equipment 

operations, often have direct, indirect and cumulative effects on cultural resources, the consequences 

of which too often include additional alienation 

between places, people, and the cultural resources 

that connect them.

7. There is value and unrealized potential in integrative consultations and studies focused on 

particular landscapes and ecosystems. Especially 

encouraging are efforts to connect or re-connect 

local communities to historical and management issues through research, education and 

outreach efforts focused on fire history, ecology, 

and management, as well as community response 

to catastrophe. Research has been completed on 

the use of fire by local communities, and this line 

of inquiry should be expanded to examine the 

impacts of fire on local history and culture.

8. Local and descendent community connections 

to cultural resources should be fostered and 

conserved for their intrinsic value, as well as for 

prospective management applications. It is arguable that local communities and the intangibles 

that give them identity and vitality are more 

important than the artifacts and features that 

many of us think of as cultural resources. Local 

communities are often endangered and require 

support and conservation. Without people who 

care about and sustain cultural resources—including landscapes—managers and researchers are 

concerned with the relatively sterile enterprises 

of minimalist compliance, materials science, and 

management driven by either internal value 

systems or second-hand interpretations of local 

community interests and public values. The inclusion of local communities and other stakeholders 

as partners in public land and fire management 

opens the door to a search for understanding 

and truths regarding the critically important 

relationships among landscapes, history, culture, 

and management.

9. As one means for integrating practical and legal 

mandates, fiduciary principles espoused by institutional and financial trustees offer a guide for 

expanding considerations of fire effects on cultural 

resources beyond basic management and pro 

forma compliance, toward true stewardship. All 

employees of public land management agencies 

share the burden of upholding the public trust, 

the doctrine of fiduciary responsibility for the 

maintenance and improvement of the terrain 

and resources under their control (Dunning 

2003). In addition to general duties as public 

trustees, all U.S. Federal officials share specific 

fiduciary responsibility for the welfare of American Indians (Chambers 1975; Welch and others 

2009b). American Indian communities and 

individuals often depend on land-linked cultural 

heritage for everything from raw materials required for religious practices to the foundations 

of group identity and moral guidance (Basso 

1996; Friedlander and Pinyan 1980). This truth 

also applies to most place-based non-American 

Indian communities.

10. NEPA, NHPA, and fiduciary principles converge 

on the mandate for public land managers to 

harmonize their programs with local interests 

and long-term ecosystem health. One criterion 

for assessing land management is the degree to 

which policies and practices strengthen landlinked communities and enhance their ties to 

lands and other resources. A second criterion is the 

degree to which a management policy or practice 

results in the maintenance or enhancement of 

the value of lands as trust assets, as evaluated 

by the beneficiaries. Fiduciary obligations to the 

public at large and American Indians in particular 

suggest the need for long-range planning and the 

identification and evaluation of all significant 

cultural resources potentially affected by management decisions and actions. There are, of 

course, many regional and agency interpretations 

of what these obligations mean, and it is useful 

for practitioners to understand both legislative 

intent and the political and bureaucratic forces 

that have shaped actual practice.

Concluding Thoughts ____________

Fire is a unique and powerful element of the Universe, 

existing as both tool and symbol in all cultures. Given 

our interests in understanding the world, protecting 

ourselves, and harnessing fire, the enduring fascination 

with fire is little wonder. Nonetheless, in the face of 

countless lessons learned about fire’s destructive force, 

and innumerable billions spent on subjugation crusades, fire continues to defy mastery. Fire thus serves 

as a catalyst for change and a sometimes cataclysmic 

reminder to local and management communities of the 

mandate to seek harmony with ecosystem processes. 

Many local communities have heeded this reminder, 

incorporated fire’s lessons into cultural resources, and 

embedded themselves in fire-dependent landscapes 

and ecosystems since time immemorial. Management 

community representatives and researchers are urged 

to consider the benefits of protecting local communities and their landscapes as cultural resources. Once 

people and the places they care most about are safe, 

the possibilities increase for learning what lessons 

they may offer concerning ecosystem disturbance, 

resilience, and balance, as well as the consequences 

when these are disregarded or exceeded.
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 171

Chapter 9:

Implications of Fire Management 

on Cultural Resources

Rebecca S. Timmons

Leonard deBano

Kevin C. Ryan

It is not what you find, but what you find out.

David Hurst Thomas

Previous chapters in this synthesis have identified 

the important fuel, weather, and fire relationships 

associated with damage to cultural resources (CR). 

They have also identified the types of effects commonly 

encountered in various fire situations and provided 

some guidance on how to recognize damages and minimize their occurrence. This chapter describes planning 

processes and actions that can be used to manage the 

effects on cultural resources in different fire and fire 

management situations.

Three reoccurring themes have emerged in this 

synthesis: the need to identify, evaluate, and mitigate 

the impacts of fire and fire management activities 

on cultural resources. The most critical point of this 

approach is the need to identify the values at risk. 

The previous chapters have provided a clear idea of 

the scope of cultural resource elements—both tangible 

and intangible—that could be lost if not properly protected and what may cause the most harmful effects to 

each. This report has assessed fire’s effects on cultural 

resources of many types, but for fire managers there 

may still be questions about what is actually at risk. 

Each resource was discussed in detail, identifying 

not only its physical properties but also its cultural 

significance. The values of these resources were identified through field surveys, georeferencing techniques, 

and consultations with local community members and 

tribal liaisons (chapter 8).

What determines the value of each element? Through 

evaluation, using the matrix process detailed later 

in this chapter, we are able to define not only the 

physical properties or significance of each element but 

also management and inventory techniques. These 

evaluations also often provide a context for future 

desired conditions for the site as well as the priority 

for comparison to other elements. Specifically, the 

matrix identifies values at risk versus fire behavior 

and management actions. The Risk Management section below and also the Introduction (chapter 1) define 

direct and indirect effects of fire and operational activities on cultural resources. Other chapters allude to 

operational effects through examples. Simply stated, 

operational effects are effects on cultural resources 

caused by fire suppression activities such as digging 

line, dropping retardant, cutting down trees, or other 

tactics. In fire management activities, particularly fuel 

treatments and restorations, the evaluation process 
172 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

involves a number of iterations where expected fuel 

consumption and fire behavior are evaluated for their 

potential impacts on CR and prescriptions are modified 

to minimize adverse effects and the need for subsequent 

mitigation.

Mitigation is the final step in managing cultural 

resources because it is not possible without identification and evaluation. Careful planning and advance 

knowledge of the types of cultural resources commonly 

encountered on a management unit can minimize negative effects to CR. However, new cultural resources are 

often discovered following fire. If we do not know what 

is there, we cannot create a means to evaluate what is 

important to preserve, or plan how to best protect these 

resources from damage or destruction. Mitigation, in 

this context, are the preventative measures that both 

cultural resource specialists and fire managers can 

use to limit direct and indirect effects of both fire and 

fire management activities. Mitigation of fire and suppression effects on CR has been discussed in previous 

chapters and is discussed in the sections below as an 

essential step for both planned and unplanned fires.

The objective of this chapter is to provide an integrated summary of the potential impacts for fire-related 

activities within a framework useful for managers. 

It presents additional information for both cultural 

resource specialists and fire managers to help them 

understand the resources they are trying to preserve, 

how they are damaged, and to create processes to better preserve them.

Planning _______________________

The management of cultural resources is becoming an increasingly important concern for managers 

of Federal, State, and tribal lands. Numerous laws, 

regulations, policies, and guidelines that address 

cultural resource management have been developed 

over the last 100 years. Section 106 of the National 

Historic Preservation Act (P.L. 89-665, as amended, 

P.L. 91-423, P.L. 94-422, P.L.94-458 and P.L. 96-515), 

along with its regulations (35CFR800), require cultural 

sites to be evaluated for their potential to be eligible 

for listing in the National Register of Historic Places. 

The law also directs Federal agencies to assess the 

effects of a proposed project on any eligible properties. Past and potential fire impacts to artifacts and 

features are critical in assessing both eligibility and 

effects. Managers must, therefore, be able to integrate 

the application of an existing regulatory framework 

with the knowledge of potential impacts to these irreplaceable cultural resources.

Effective cultural resource management begins with 

strong management commitment, good inventory data, 

solid planning, and effective monitoring. General or 

land and resource management plans (LRMP) define 

the mission and strategic direction for a unit of land. 

These broad-scale plans typically identify the pertinent 

laws and authorities associated with the creation of the 

management unit, its geographical location, roles and 

responsibilities, stakeholders and partners, important 

laws governing the management of the unit (e.g., in 

the United States: National Forest Management Act, 

Federal Land Policy and Management Act, Endangered 

Species Act, Clean Air Act, Clean Water Act, National 

Historic Preservation Act, etc.), the resource goals to 

be promoted by the plan, the values at risk, and the 

sources of those risks (fig. 9-1). Ideally, LRMPs also 

clearly describe the types of vegetation, the role of fire 

regimes, and the historic and prehistoric uses of the 

land. Similarly, cultural resource management plans 

(CRMPs) identify the pertinent laws and policies governing the protection of historic and prehistoric heritage 

resources, roles and responsibilities, and key contacts 

such as the State Historical Preservation Officer and 

indiginous community leaders. They also identify the 

cultural resources (CR) including cultural landscapes; 

the types of sites; known or probable resources and 

their location, as appropriate; as well as the threats 

or risks to the CR. Some sites may be well known 

(lookouts, ranger stations), while locational information of other sites (prehistoric camp sites) is exempt 

from public disclosure to protect the resource from 

vandalism (Christensen and others 1992). CRMPs also 

identify the state of knowledge and the CR practices 

and standards for inventorying, monitoring, stabilizing, and restoring resources as well as measures for 

minimizing and mitigating negative impacts associated with other management activities. Likewise, fire 

management plans (FMPs) define pertinent laws and 

policies, authorities and responsibilities, goals, options, and constraints facing fire management. FMPs 

typically include descriptions of historic role and use 

of fire in the management unit; elements of the fire 

environment including vegetation/fuels, terrain influences, and historic fire weather; fire occurrence and 

behavior; the values at risk; and resources protected. 

The standard focus of FMPs includes public and fire 

fighter safety; natural, air, and cultural resources; 

infrastructure, and wildland urban interface. FMPs 

describe appropriate actions for fuels treatment, restoration, and wildfire suppression based on current 

knowledge and practices. Both the cultural resource 

management plan and the fire management plan provide direction to the LRMP and draw direction from it. 

All three are part of an integrated approach to effective 

planning and stewardship of natural and cultural resources. Fire management and cultural resource plans 

are integrated with land and resource management 

plans to form the basis for proposed activities. Actual 

activity plans require interdisciplinary integration of 

other resources and processes. Assessment of actual 
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 173Figure 9-1—Schematic of the planning process as it relates to cultural resource (CR) protection.
174 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

and potential impacts on CR following action (fire) 

requires inventorying, monitoring, and interdisciplinary assessment. These support critical evaluation of 

preexisting plans and procedures, documentation of 

lessons learned, and refined knowledge in support of 

adaptive management.

Well written integrated LMPs, CRMPs, and FMPs 

provide a foundation for designing and implementing 

projects that achieve their shared-collective goals. 

Integrated project planning addresses the effects of 

proposed actions on flora (Brown and Smith 2000; 

Steffan and others 2010; Zouhar and others 2008), 

fauna (Engstrom 2010; Smith 2000), air (Sandberg and 

others 2002), soil and water (Neary and others 2005), 

cultural resources (chapter 1), communities (Aplet and 

Wilmer 2006; Daniel and others 2005; Jakes and others 2007; Shlisky and others 2007; Wells 2009), and 

infrastructure. Integrated project planning involves 

an iterative process of evaluating trade-offs between 

competing goals and objectives to arrive at the best 

alternative for a multiple of resources (fig. 9-1). It 

is an interdisciplinary collaborative effort involving 

stakeholders (Jakes 2008; Kaufmann and others 2009; 

McCaffrey 2006; Sturtevant and Jakes 2008). Fire 

managers need to consider all significant and sensitive 

CR and to be proactive to minimize potential damage. 

Active involvement of CR specialists in the planning 

and conducting of fire management activities is integral 

to meeting CR goals and objectives (table 9-1).

Following fire, CR specialists need to evaluate the 

fire’s severity and its impacts on the cultural resources. 

(Chapter 2 provides guidelines for evaluating fire 

severity.) Fire’s impacts may be the direct result of 

heating or the deposition of chemicals released during 

the combustion process (soot, tars, adhesions, etc.). 

Other chapters in this publication provide guidance 

on determining the direct effects of fire on ceramics 

(chapter 3), lithics (chapter 4), rock art (chapter 5), 

materials of the historical period (chapter 6), and 

subterranean structures (chapter 7). Evaluation of the 

effects of fire on CR requires that the CR specialists 

consider the combustion environment, i.e., the local 

small-scale environment juxtaposed around each site 

or artifact as it is at this scale that the direct effects 

occur (chapter 2).

In addition to evaluating the direct effects of fire on 

cultural resources, CR specialists need to evaluate the 

impact of fire management activities (fig. 9-2b) (broken bedrock mortar) and the potential for second- and 

third-order effects such as the potential for post-fire 

erosion (Allen 2001; Lesko and others 2002; Johnson 

2004; Kelly and Mayberry 1980; Neary and others 

2005) and for vandalism (Christensen and others 

1992; Davis and others 1992a,b; Downer 1992; Higgins 

1992), respectively. Erosion potential is a function of 

the terrain, geologic parent material, fire severity, and 

expected post-fire weather, principally precipitation 

(Neary and others 2005). Effective evaluation of erosion potential and the need for post-fire stabilization 

and rehabilitation requires an interdisciplinary effort. 

Following planned (e.g., fuels treatment, restoration, 

prescribed burning, etc.) and unplanned (e.g., wildfire 

Table 9-1—Advance planning–preparedness: A U.S. Federal lands example.

Proper cultural resource planning is the best way to respond to any planned or unplanned 

fire. There are several steps that can prepare for making decisions about cultural properties: 

• The Cultural Resource Specialist prepares a GIS layer with locations of known eligible 

and unevaluated properties, where wildfire management decisions dictate necessary site 

protection. 

• The Cultural Resource Specialist prepares a GIS layer based on the likelihood of cultural 

properties using a predictive site model. In lieu of a GIS layer, the Forest will utilize a hard 

copy map of site probability.

• The Cultural Resource Specialist, in cooperation with a Fire Specialist, prepares Site 

Protection Plans (SPPs) that identify the appropriate protection measures for various cultural 

property types. As these plans are developed, they can be provided to the appropriate 

Historic Preservation Office, either the State Historic Preservation Office (SHPO) or the Tribal 

Historic Preservation Office (THPO) for their review and comment. 

• The Cultural Resource Specialist provides instruction during any forest Wildland Fire 

Decision Support System (WFDSS) training on the Federal laws and Forest Service policies 

regarding the protection of cultural resources. The training will include the procedures for 

cultural resources protection.
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 175

suppression) actions, a formal review of the prescriptions, plans, and execution should be conducted. Lessons learned should be formally documented to provide 

a basis for a formalized adaptive management process 

that leads to improved management of future projects 

(fig. 9-1).

Risk Management _______________

Cultural resource and fire managers should assess 

potential risks when evaluating the effects of wildland 

fire, prescribed fire, fire use and fire suppression on 

cultural properties. These risks include the direct, first 

order impacts from the fire itself as well as suppression activities, and the indirect effects such as erosion 

potential (chapters 1 and 2).

Direct effects that occur as a result of the fire itself 

include the combustion of burnable cultural materials 

(wood, shells, paints, glazes) and physical and chemical 

changes in materials (spalling, charring, calcification, 

crazing, melting, heat and chemical alteration). Direct 

effects are the result of the physical and chemical 

processes associated with combustion. In contrast, 

indirect effects occur as a consequence of the direct 

effects, and are of two types: human responses and 

biophysical responses (chapter 1). For example, from 

April to June, 2007, a series of fires collectively named 

the Bugaboo Fire burned over 600,000 acres (2,400 km2) 

in the Okefenokee National Wildlife Refuge, Osceola 

National Forest, and adjacent lands. Hundreds of miles 

(kilometers) of fireline were dug by tractor-plow and 

hand crews, exposing and damaging numerous CR sites 

and features. Over 100 new sites were discovered on 

407 kilometers (253 miles) of fireline on the Osceola 

National Forest alone (Lydick and Donop 2009). Cultural resources may be affected directly by suppression 

activities (hand and mechanical fire line construction 

(figs. 9-2, 9-3), retardant use (Reed and others 2007) 

Figure 9-2—Dozer cat line on the 2001 Highway 

88 Fire near Ione, California; (A) exposed unknown 

bedrock mortar; and (B) damaged bedrock mortar 

(photos by Sharan A. Waechter, Far Western Anthropological Research Group, for CalFire). 

A

B
176 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

A and rehabilitation activities. It is generally concluded 

that fire suppression activities during wildland fires 

and post-fire site rehabilitation treatments present the 

most consistent adverse impacts and pose the greatest risk to cultural properties. The indirect effects of 

fire include exposure of surface cultural properties 

to erosion and to increased visibility. The removal of 

vegetation and surface litter can expose cultural properties formerly not readily visible to the eye, therefore 

making them more vulnerable to looting (Christensen 

and others 1992). Post-fire erosion on steep slopes of 

severely burned areas can occur after intense wildland 

fires have destroyed most of the pre-fire vegetative 

canopy, causing the horizontal displacement of surface 

cultural materials (Allen 2001; Johnson 2004; Lesko 

and others 2002; Timmons and others 1996). A fire can 

leave standing vegetation that becomes vulnerable to 

blow down and can impact both surface and subsurface 

cultural properties.

The elements of risk for adverse impacts to cultural 

properties can only be assessed in a rather detailed 

analysis that takes into account multiple factors. One 

set of factors relates to the type of cultural features and 

artifacts (elements) involved and the relative location 

of those cultural properties on the landscape. Often the 

locations of features or sites are known before hand. 

Often such CRs are discovered through pretreatment 

or post disturbance surveys, 

Usually the types of resources 

to be expected in an area can 

be anticipated, (sidebar 9-1), 

but sometimes new discoveries are made. Another set of 

factors relates to the interaction of the environment with 

fire. As the previous chapters 

describe, not all cultural 

properties will respond to 

fire in the same way. How a 

cultural property will react 

to fire depends on its material composition (organic/

inorganic), its provenience 

(surface/subsurface), existing fuel loads (grasses/heavy 

deadfall), fire intensity (high/

low), duration of heat, soil 

heat penetration, and fuel, 

soil, and duff moistures.

B

Figure 9-3—(A) Fireline on 2007 Bugaboo Fire, Osceola National Forest; (B) Pottery 

sherds impacted by tractor-plow fireline construction. 
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 177

Sidebar 9-1—Observing and Conserving Cultural Features

Archaeologists become familiar with the types of resources in their particular area: the known sites, common features, 

types of artifacts, and the raw materials used in their geographic area. When CR specialists are deployed on fire assignments to new areas they need to come up to speed quickly by interacting with local specialists. Wildland fire suppression 

forces commonly get deployed all around the country where they encounter historic and prehistoric cultural resources. 

Old buildings, rock art panels, railroad trestles and other highly visible features are easily recognized as such and alert 

firefighters to the need to take special caution and solicit input from CR specialists. However, many CR are subtle and 

not easily recognized by the untrained eye. There have been instances where fire crews have “collected” artifacts and a 

number of examples where CRs were inadvertently damaged. Education and training can minimize these damages. Line 

scouts and crew bosses need to learn to spot features and minimize potential damage. The following examples illustrate 

the types of CR one may encounter.

A

Figure 9S-1a—Prehistoric hunting blind (photo 

by Becky Timmons, USFS Kootenai National 

Forest). The linear structure and stacked-rock 

nature of this feature identify it as a cultural 

resource. 

Figure 9S-1b—Archaic stone hearth (note circular pattern of rocks) revealed by forest floor consumption during prescribed burning (photo by Becky Timmons, USFS 

Kootenai National Forest).

B
178 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

Figure 9S-1c—A slab-lined basin (prehistoric 

cooking pit), normally with just the tips of the 

walls above the surface. Erosion post-fire partially deflated the feature. The 2002 Mustang 

Fire burned up to the edge of the feature, which 

is now undergoing further deflating (lower right 

area in photo) (photo by Clay Johnson, USFS 

Ashley National Forest).

Figure 9S-1d—Trash dumps are commonly 

found in rural locations and may indicate a 

historic site such as this garbage dump site 

from a World War II prisoner of war camp near 

Monticello, Arkansas (photo by Don Bragg, 

USFS Southern Research Station).

Figure 9S-1e—Features such as this hand-dug 

well on an old homesite near Monticello, Arkansas, are easily recognized as man-made. In old 

mining districts such shafts are also common 

features that should be avoided for both safety 

and CR reasons but should alert fire fighters to 

be aware that other CR may be near-by (photo by 

Don Bragg, USFS Southern Research Station).

Figure 9S-1f—This rock circle on the south flank 

of Grand Mesa in western Colorado was one 

of three such rock circles on a very low ridge in 

the pinyon-juniper. Rocks were cleared on this 

lava rock ridge to make a circular space. An 

excavation nearby showed occupation going 

back about 5,000 years. One flake was found in 

the interior (photo by Sally Crum, USFS Grand 

Mesa-Uncompahgre National Forest).

C

D

E

F
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 179

The previous examples are but a few of the near infinite things fire managers may encounter in the field. The first and 

foremost rule of fire is safety first. Next comes protecting the resource, including cultural resources. A few simple rules 

can guide actions: 

•	 If it looks like a good place to camp then someone has likely camped there in the past, perhaps for hundreds of years. 

•	 If there is a majestic view, you are not the first to marvel at it. 

•	 If something looks “out of place” or “unnatural,” it may deserve greater scrutiny. 

However, non-specialists should not pick up, overturn, dig at, or otherwise disturb suspected CR. Important archaeological information can be lost just by picking up an artifact, even if it is put back down afterward. There is a good chance 

that he or she is on a previously recorded cultural site, where the artifacts have been recorded and are being monitored; 

these sites also should not be disturbed. There is also a good chance that the site is previously unrecorded. It is common 

to find previously unknown CR following a fire. If you find something that looks interesting:

•	 Leave it right where it is;

•	 Get a GPS location if possible; 

•	 Take a photograph if possible; and 

•	 Contact the local resource advisor or cultural resource specialist assigned to the fire.

Figure 9S-1h—Wickiups are common features throughout the western United States. What may at first glance 

appear to be a random jack-straw of natural fuels may 

be an archaic hunting camp site (photos by Sally Crum, 

USFS Grand Mesa-Uncompahgre National Forest).

Figure 9S-1g—Overhanging rock shelves such as this overhanging sandstone on the Uncompahgre Plateau rock often formed 

rock shelters for native people. Care should be taken to minimize 

soil disturbance without guidance from a CR specialist (photo by 

Sally Crum, USFS Grand Mesa-Uncompahgre National Forest).

G H
180 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

Wildland Fire Management 

Recommendations ______________

The protection of cultural resources during wildland 

fire is more challenging than for a prescribed burn. 

Treatment options available to mitigate the direct 

impacts from wildland fire include use of water, 

retardant, and fire shelter material. Retardant and 

water drops on sensitive cultural sites are possible; 

however, the use of retardant has some effects on 

cultural properties that should be considered (Reed 

and others 2007) (sidebar 9-2). Some areas can be 

protected by judicious backfiring operations that are 

designed to protect designated cultural properties 

from the direct onslaught of the fire. MIST (Minimum 

Impact Suppression Techniques) suppression methods 

can help to minimize suppression activity impacts:

•	 Cold trail and wet line versus mechanical and 

hand line construction

•	 Alternative mechanized equipment (rubber tired 

skidders versus tracked skidders)

•	 Minimal scraping and tool scarring during mopup activities

•	 No piling of burned and partially burned fuels

•	 Avoidance of camping in meadows and along 

streams or lakes, as there is a high probability 

for buried cultural properties

Sidebar 9-2—Effects of Fire Retardants on 

Cultural Resources

Fire retardants, particularly those dropped by aircraft, are an integral 

tool in fire management. While retardants can be critical to fire suppression 

success (fig. 9S-2a), they pose a threat to cultural resources (Reed and others 2007) (fig. 9S-2b,c; table 9S-2.1). Retardants are fertilizer-based salts 

(commonly diammonium phosphate or ammonium sulfate) that contain 

corrosion inhibitors and, typically, iron oxide, which can be absorbed on 

porous surfaces leaving long-term staining. The salts can alter moisture 

relations causing shrinking and swelling that can damage the surface. 

Phosphates in some retardants can affect archaeological analysis of 

prehistoric occupation of a site. The fertilizer salts are corrosive to many 

metals. 

Figure 9S-2a—Aerial view of Mesa Verde National Park Headquarters and retardant drops (reddish area) used to protect cultural 

resources and park infrastructure.

A
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 181

Table 9S-2.1—Summary of findings on rehabilitation of sites impacted by fire retardant.a

Retardant cleaning procedures

Begin with least invasive method

Recommended NOT Recommended

•	 Dry brushing

•	 Hand brushing w/ water

•	 Hand brushing w/blkaline surfactants

•	 Poulticing

•	 Power washing

•	 Sandblasting

•	 Acid based washes

Sandstone Painted wood Metals, glass

•	 Pre-soak w/ water

•	 10% borax solution (surfactant)

•	 Gentle circular brushing w/ natural fiber

•	 Rinse w/ water

•	 Repeat where necessary

•	 Pre-soak w/water

•	 Brushing w/ mild detergent

•	 Rinse

•	 Wipe or sponge w/ mild detergent

•	 Wipe dry

Summary of retardant investigations Strategies for retardant impacts mitigation

•	 Retardants pose potential risks to health, safety & cultural

properties.

•	 Retardants will not wash off naturally; they require intervention to

remove, particularly on vertical surfaces

•	 Mitigative measures were tested that effectively removed

retardants without further damage to cultural resources

•	 Assess impact - resource type, retardant type

•	 Research retardant type and MSDS

•	 Evaluate risk to resources

•	 Mitigate impacts where necessary

•	 Map affected areas

•	 Establish monitoring system

•	 Consider integrating potential suppression impacts

into Fire Management Plan a

 Corbiel, Don. 2002. After the fire: Investigating fire suppression impacts on historic resources. Lessons learned from the Long Mesa Fire 

of 2002. Washington, DC: U.S. Department of the Interior, Bureau of Land Management. PowerPoint presentation. 59 slides. Online: http://

www.blm.gov/heritage/powerpoint/Fire_Corbeil/Impacts%20to%20Historic%20Resources_2_files/frame.htm.

Figure 9S-2b—Spruce Tree House, Mesa 

Verde National Park, illustrating effect of retardant on sandstone cliff-face, note Burned 

Area Emergency Rehabilitation (erosion mats) 

to protect cliff dwelling from water and debris 

coming over the overhanging edge of the alcove.

Figure 9S-2c—Close up of sandstone wall, 

showing the coverage of slurry coating. Dried 

slurry is hard, difficult to remove, long lasting, 

and accelerates weathering.

B

C
182 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

In particular, some suppression tactics should be carefully considered in areas of known cultural properties 

as they have a greater potential for adverse impacts, 

such as:

•	 Use of fire line explosives

•	 Allowing the burning of trees, snags and stumps

•	 Repair of soil compaction by scarification

Disturbance by fire suppression activities can be 

mitigated to some extent by conducting pre-fire cultural 

resource surveys and careful planning of fire suppression strategies in areas of cultural properties. Fire 

Management Plans are designed to analyze specific 

management areas/response zones in order to identify:

•	 Appropriate management response strategies 

for each fire management unit or fire management area;

•	 Acceptable fire suppression tactics;

•	 Strategic priorities;

•	 Resource values and suppression cost factors;

•	 “Must meet” criteria;

•	 Fire intensity, size, duration, and seasonal 

constraints;

•	 Areas/conditions where firefighter safety is 

compromised;

•	 Objectives/desired conditions/standards and 

guides; and

•	 Risk analysis process and parameters.

It is vital to integrate cultural resource values into 

these plans by providing management level information 

about cultural properties. Some general information 

to include in Fire Management Plans might be:

•	 Identification of significant cultural resource 

values at risk on large-scale maps, along with 

their National Register eligibility status;

•	 Assessment of risks to cultural properties;

•	 Options to reduce risks to vulnerable cultural 

properties, such as reduction of fuel loads, careful 

construction of fire lines, etc.;

•	 Benefits and impacts on local cultural properties 

as outlined in any fire guidelines, such as MIST, 

that may exist;

•	 Tribal communications protocol to be used during 

wildland fire suppression;

•	 Documentation of known issues as compiled with 

interested stakeholders;

•	 Identification of training courses recommended 

for cultural resource specialists that would prepare them for fire positions such as fire line locators, heavy equipment supervisors, rehabilitation 

team members, and resource advisors;

•	 Outlining cultural resource training for site 

protection issues for fire suppression personnel;

During fire suppression activities, several steps 

can be taken to further protect significant cultural 

properties. For example, in the United States when a 

fire has been declared on Federal land a wildland fire, 

a Wildland Fire Decision Support System analysis is 

prepared. This document addresses how specific fire 

suppression tactics will meet the guidance provided in 

the Fire Management Plans, including the following 

recommendations:

•	 Using any cultural property information available (GIS) to determine the cultural properties 

within and adjacent to the fire. Identify and map 

the location of significant cultural properties at 

risk for field reference. The status of eligibility 

for each site should be tracked. Traditional cultural properties should also appear on the map, 

if possible.

•	 Immediately assigning trained cultural resource 

specialist to fires where there are known cultural 

properties so that they can get out ahead of any 

large equipment.

•	 Organizing cultural resource specialist teams 

that are made up of qualified archaeologists and 

tribal representatives.

•	 Using the local cultural specialists to advise the 

archaeologist assigned to the fire if they are not 

local.

•	 Considering the location of fire camps to assure 

that cultural properties are not impacted.

•	 Including cultural resource information as part 

of the Wildland Fire Decision Support System.

•	 Encouraging cultural resource specialists to work 

with large equipment operators and line scouts.

•	 Encouraging cultural resource specialists to brief 

suppression crews and other field personnel.

•	 Ensuring that cultural resource specialists keep 

detailed notes on areas covered and cultural 

properties located and damaged.

•	 Consulting with State historic preservation offices 

following the protocol agreed upon.

Prescribed Fire _________________

Prescribed fire is used to manage both vegetation and 

fuels for the purpose of restoring ecosystem processes, 

with several goals in mind: (1) biomass reduction, (2) 

site preparation for regeneration of conifers and shrubs, 

(3) rejuvenation of shrubs and grasses, (4) enhancing 

germination and growth of forbs, and (5) suppression 

of in-growth species. Prescribed fire may also be used 

to reduce fuels that could endanger buried cultural 

resources in the event of a wildland fire.

Prescribed fire severity varies depending on the 

prescription (such as, whether the fire is intended 
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 183

to be non-lethal, mixed-severity, or stand-replacing; 

light, moderate, or deep depth of burn). An earlier 

section of this publication (chapter 2) describes the 

physical process of combustion, the effect of different 

severities of burning on damage to vegetation, heat 

transfer to the soil surface, the subsequent transfer 

of heat downward into the soil, and potential impacts 

to cultural resources. It is the combustion process; 

along with the subsequent generation of heat, that 

directly damages cultural properties above, on, and 

below the soil surface. Above-ground materials may 

be directly consumed or irreversibly altered by the 

heat produced by the fire. Cultural materials found on 

the soil surface are exposed and vulnerable. Cultural 

resources within the soil are less likely to be changed 

unless heavy accumulations of surface fuels or organic 

soil are burned. Assessment of risks involved when 

using prescribed fires includes not only the potential 

damage of the fire to the cultural material, but also 

the trade-offs with other resources and the potential 

for escaped fires.

Cultural properties with heavy fuel loads in the 

form of coarse woody debris (deadfall, stumps, logging/

thinning slash), thick dry duff, and dense standing 

vegetation may be at risk from prescribed fire. All 

fuel elements in the fuel bed should be considered for 

their potential to cause damage. For example, rotten 

and partially rotten logs easily sustain combustion 

at moisture contents well above those of solid fuels. 

In a study of fire in lodgepole pine forests in eastern 

Oregon, Agee (1981, as cited in Agee 1993) noted that 

even under moderate fire weather, partially decayed 

logs (decay class 3-4) can be the primary corridors for 

fire spread. Even logs with relatively high moistures 

(40%) will serve as corridors to carry a ground fire. The 

depth of heat penetration varies with the volume of 

coarse woody debris, whether combustion is primarily by flaming versus smoldering combustion and soil 

moisture (chapter 2). Temperatures associated with 

flaming are often two- to three-hundred degrees higher 

than those of smoldering, and high soil moisture presents a barrier to high heat penetration (Campbell and 

others 1994, 1995). In one study research, Agee (1993) 

found that a log smoldering for 3 hours registered a 

temperature of 100 °C (212 °F) at the mineral surface 

while the temperature of the soil under the log at 5 cm 

(2 in.) was only 50 °C (122 °F).

The most dramatic effects from fire will occur around 

stumps (sidebar 9-3). Thermocouple measurements 

confirm high temperatures from burning stumps at 

1500 °C (2732 °F) (Traylor and others 1979). In one 

study Timmons and others (1996) observed burning 

stumps in the Green Basin Prescribed Burn in northwestern Montana. Stumps that were 30 years old did not 

burn, but the 45-year-old stumps burned completely. 

The older/drier the stump was, the more likely it was 

to burn out in a single event, whereas the green stumps 

only partially burned (Timmons and others 1996). In 

another study, observations at a prescribed burn in 

northwestern Montana revealed many of the Douglasfir stumps left from 80 years of logging were rotted 

and massive in size. In a 1-acre sample plot placed in 

a relatively open forested landscape, 43 stumps were 

counted. Around 688 stumps were estimated within 

the boundary of a 16-acre (0.06 km2) buried prehistoric 

site. Even in the light intensity spring burn conducted 

on the site, approximately 20 stumps within the 1-acre 

plot burned out. The results were stump cavities as 

large as 1-1⁄2 meters in diameter and depth, with root 

cavities extending out 5 meters (16.4 ft). If there were 

hearth or stone-boiling features that intermingled 

with the roots, the feature would collapse and artifacts 

dropped in the profile (fig. S-3b,c). Holes created by 

the burned out stumps comprised approximately 0.4% 

of the burn area.

In a field experiment, simulated “fire-cracked rock 

features” were placed next to stumps in a prescribed 

burn area. The lithic features located adjacent to 

burned out stumps were disarticulated and redeposited 

(Timmons and others 1996). It is also quite possible 

that an artifact could be thermally altered if located 

directly against the stump. However, as little as 0.8 

centimeters (2 in.) of soil between the artifact and the 

stump would likely insulate it from the heat given off 

from the burning stump. While we cannot rule out 

the possibility of artifacts or even features being adversely affected by a burning stump, we have greater 

control of the percentage of stumps that are burned in 

a prescribed fire than we would if wildland fire burned 

through the accumulation of heavy fuel loads. Not only 

would wildland fire impact a greater percentage of the 

site, but would also increase the severity of impacts 

to the artifacts (fig. S-3b,c).

A slow, creeping fire, smoldering in thick duff also 

has potential to adversely affect cultural properties, 

as does heavy accumulations of standing vegetation. Total removal of duff may also expose surface 

features and artifacts to erosion and vandalism, due 

to increased visibility. Careful planning and monitoring of prescribed burns will reduce the potential for 

adverse effects and identify the need for subsequent 

rehabilitation measure, like those used following 

wildfires. Mitigation measures, such as mulching or 

concealment may be required to reduce the potential 

for erosion and vandalism, respectively.
184 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

Sidebar 9-3—Stump Burn-Out: Feature Damage

Stratigraphy, the laying down of layers over time, is an important factor in archaeological interpretation; undisturbed 

artifact or feature depth is related to time since the cultural resource was last used or deposited. Trees often grow in close 

association with cultural resources. Midden soils and wind-blown loess soils create favorable habitats for establishment 

and growth of woody plants, which eventually die. Wind-throw trees can result in ripping the root ball out of the ground 

creating a mound and depression microsite and redistributing cultural materials. The stump, whether occurring naturally 

or because of historical logging, eventually decays (fig. 9S-3a) leading to a fuel capable of sustained flaming and smoldering. 

The subterranean character of stump holes and root channels (fig. 9S-3b) creates the opportunity for sustained extreme 

heating potentially damaging surface and subsurface artifacts and features. This can be a confounding site formation 

effect for archaeologists (chapter 7; Conner and Cannon 1991; Conner and others 1989; Timmons and others 1996). The 

residual hole left after burning can collapse, redistributing cultural materials (fig. 9S-3c). Mop-up during fire suppression 

poses additional hazard to artifacts through rapid quenching or mechanical disturbance.

Figure 9S-3a—Rotten stump 40 years after partial cutting 

of the forest.

Figure 9S-3b—Burned-out stump hole revealing collapsed 

rocks.

Figure 9S-3c—Stump burn-out and cultural resource damage. Trees commonly grow in or adjacent to features as in 

this illustration of an archaic hearth. Root expansion during 

the tree’s life can displace artifacts. Subsequent burn-out of 

the stump and roots can cause collapse and redistribution 

of artifacts as well as affect dating techniques. 

A

B

C
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 185

Prescribed Fire Management 

Recommendations

The risk of negative impacts from prescribed fire 

to eligible or potentially eligible cultural sites can be 

minimized through proper planning. The planning, 

implementation, and monitoring of prescribed burns 

are best accomplished through applying a team approach 

of cultural resource specialists and fire managers.

Cultural Resource Specialists:

•	 Conduct project inventory to identify cultural 

properties and obtain the necessary clearances 

(legal compliance) for the proposed burn area in 

order to assess project effects to cultural properties. The inventory should include ethnographic 

(tribal) information about cultural properties (as 

associated with cultural sites) and treaty rightsrelated resources (as associated with plants, etc.). 

Consider all cultural sites with surface artifacts 

or features as sites at risk and design specific 

protection measures accordingly.

•	 Provide cultural information (location, provenience, site description, areas of high potential 

for resources).

•	 Consult with American Indian Tribes and First 

Nations regarding the project intent and dates.

Fire Managers:

•	 Determine the type and loading of fuels in order 

to obtain estimates of potential fuel consumption and surface and subsurface temperatures 

and work with cultural specialists to determine 

how these combinations could affect cultural 

materials.

•	 Identify the fuel models and vegetation types to 

help determine the potential heat that may be 

generated under different fuel moisture, weather 

variables, and ignition patterns.

•	 Formulate a burning prescription and work with 

cultural specialists to ensure that all significant 

cultural properties are protected. Carefully 

consider burning strategies that might reduce 

potential effects. For example, a head fire might 

cause fewer effects to artifacts on the ground 

surface than a cooler, slower moving backfire 

with a longer residence time (chapter 2).

•	 List all burn preparation needs in the burning 

plan and ensure that they are implemented 

before burning.

•	 Brief all fire support personnel on the objectives 

of the burn and engage the cultural specialists to 

discuss the proper protection of cultural properties and materials.

Removal of heavy fuels is the most useful preventive 

measure for lessening the impacts of fire on surface 

cultural materials. This includes deadfall, snags, and 

heavy brush, all of which have the potential to burn 

hot. Light fuels such as grasses and thin duff will 

usually produce low heat and residence time resulting in minimal impact on the surface. Under common 

prescribed burning conditions grass fires typically 

result in smoke-blackened artifacts and features, 

which retain their interpretive potential after they are 

affected. While heavy fuels are the greatest threat to 

surface cultural materials, stumps and roots present 

the greatest potential source of heat penetration into 

undisturbed sub-surface cultural deposits. A trained 

cultural resource specialist should determine the best 

treatment measures, which might include:

•	 Avoid burning heavy fuel accumulations; if 

present, remove the concentrated fuels from the 

sensitive sites. Trees, snags, and large shrubs 

should be removed from cultural resource sites 

when they are identified as having the potential 

to adversely impact the resource. Particular care 

should be directed to the location and burning of 

any slash piles.

•	 Hand removal of any fuel source may be necessary. Some resource types such as pictographs, 

petroglyphs, bedrock mortars, and milling features may be damaged by the presence of even 

light fuels.

•	 Treat stumps by wrapping them with fire 

resistant-reflective fabric; application of water, 

retardant, or foam; or bury stumps with soil, rocks, 

or similar material to prevent ignition during 

a fire. Accelerating stump decomposition with 

substances designed to accelerate decomposition, 

or mechanical treatment of stumps by drilling 

or scoring may be helpful. However, physical 

removal of a stump by mechanical means could 

have as much or more impact than the fire itself.

•	 Remove standing, dead trees from sensitive cultural resource sites to prevent tree tip-up.

•	 Isolate vulnerable cultural properties from the 

fire by creating foam barriers, building carefully 

prepared hand lines, and establishing hose-lays.

•	 Remove deadfall from sites, particularly from 

surface features. When planning for prescribed 

fire, it is in the best interest of the resource to 

minimize the ignition of trees, deadfall, and 

stumps.

•	 All trees, shrubs and brush growing in and near 

cultural features should be assessed and removed 

as appropriate. Planning for removal of live vegetation should include consideration of whether 

erosion would be accelerated when trees and 

large shrubs are removed or whether exposure 

of the feature to looting outweighs any potential 

benefits. It would not be appropriate to worsen 

erosion or looting hazards while attempting to 

control potential fire impacts.
186 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

Fire Rehabilitation _______________

Fire rehabilitation activities following the fire should 

receive the same level of attention as that used in 

designing the implementation of a prescribed burn 

(sidebar 4). A cultural resource specialist should be 

involved in the development of rehabilitation plans to 

identify site-specific mitigation measures for cultural 

properties. Mapping the location of post-fire treatment 

areas and specific rehabilitation activities for cultural 

sites will help assure avoidance of any further damage 

to resources. Individual cultural resource site records 

should be updated to reflect any changes that occurred 

as a result of the rehabilitation activities.

Fire Rehabilitation Recommendations

Caution should be exercised when implementing 

post-fire treatments (Robichaud 2009; Robichaud and 

others 2000) to avoid damage to cultural resource sites. 

Physical treatments common as rehabilitation measures include aerial or ground application of mulches, 

straw wattles, reseeding (preferably with native species), mechanical revegetation, construction of contour 

trenches, and water barring. Recommendations for 

mitigating potential adverse effects during rehabilitation should be specific to cultural sites, outlined in 

formal Determinations of Effects, and reviewed by the 

State historic preservation office or the tribal historic 

preservation office. Recommendations should be implemented as soon as possible to prevent resource loss 

due to erosion and looting. Some recommendations to 

consider are:

•	 Backfilling stump cavities to prevent collapsing of 

sediments around features. The locations should 

be carefully documented for reference by future 

cultural resource specialists.

•	 Reseeding of devegetated areas with vegetation 

that does not contribute to vertical displacement 

of buried cultural materials.

•	 Installing log diverters to redirect the flow of 

water away from vulnerable areas of a site.

•	 Removing standing, dead trees inside of features 

to prevent tree tip-ups caused by falling and possible later ignition by fire.

•	 Consulting with a rock art conservation specialist 

to assist in identifying appropriate treatment.

In the United States, recommendation options may 

be compiled and agreed to by the agency, the State 

Historic Preservation Office, the Advisory Council on 

Historic Preservation, and interested tribes in a Programmatic Memorandum of Understanding (PMOA). 

A PMOA can be negotiated on a local forest or regional 

level as tiered to any national PMOA. At present there 

is a multi-agency effort to produce a national PMOA on 

Wildland Fire Management and Cultural Resources.

Fire Use _______________________

In the United States, some naturally ignited fires are 

allowed to burn under specified, prescriptive conditions 

in order to meet resource objectives. As such these 

fires pose some challenges that are somewhat unique. 

Such fires are typically in more remote areas and often within legally designated wilderness areas where 

mechanized fire suppression is limited. In contrast to 

wildfires that are suppressed as quickly as practical, 

such resource benefit fires may be allowed to burn 

for weeks or months. In such situations planning for 

cultural resource protection is more similar to that of 

a prescribed fire in that there is a greater opportunity 

for planning and coordination. The remoteness of the 

resource changes the risk factors, such as those posed 

by heavy equipment, but also changes the monitoring 

and rehabilitation opportunities requiring both fire 

managers and the cultural resource specialists to 

adapt their practices (sidebar 9-5).

Fire Use Recommendations

The use of cultural resource data to support wildfire 

planning has traditionally been a management issue. 

The disclosure of cultural resource data has typically 

been such that the release or exchange of information 

with wildfire staff is cumbersome and at times nonexistent. Protection of cultural site location information 

is mandated by the Archaeological Resource Protection 

Act. It is exempt from public disclosure, but can be made 

available to other agency personnel on a need-to-know 

basis, which includes information needed to protect a 

cultural site. The lack of information including site 

location, site probability, and fire susceptibility can 

impact planning for wildfire decisions and prescribed 

fire projects.

CR data, along with other datasets, are needed on 

an interagency basis to support national applications, 

planning, and wildfire suppression efforts. To facilitate 

the collection and standardization of these datasets, the 

Federal agencies are developing a wildfire geodatabase 

(Wildland Fire Distributed Information System) that 

would pull cultural resource data from various sources 

and make it available for wildfire response teams. This 

is not intended to store or create a national dataset 

of site specific locations but provide generalized locations that include material types (for information on 

susceptibility to fire) and site depths.

In the United States, an application that will use 

these data is the Wildland Fire Decision Support 

System (WFDSS) (Noonan-Wright and others, in 

press). WFDSS runs Finney’s fire spread probability 

model (FSPro) (Finney and others 2011) that calculates 

the probability that a given area will burn based on 

thousands of simulations of historic fire weather. This 

probability layer is then intersected with multiple data 
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 187

Sidebar 9-4—Protecting Cultural Sites From Erosion

Burned Area Emergency Rehabilitation (BAER) is frequently used to protect cultural sites from further damage from 

erosion. Fire management agencies have guidelines for BAER practices, which often need modification in cultural resource 

areas. BAER teams working in CR areas should have CR specialist on the team to direct rehabilitation efforts and site 

documentation for future monitoring.

Figure 9-S4.a—Burned Area Emergency Rehabilitation work to protect a rock shelter following the 2002 

Mustang Fire, Ashley National Forest, Utah. Straw 

wattle (foreground) was used as a runoff barrier to 

protect the rock shelter from water coming in from the 

side, which could result in erosion damage. An erosion blanket (brown patch in mid-ground) was used to 

protect the floor of the rock shelter from water flowing 

off of the overhanging ledge (Johnson 2004a,b) (photo 

August 2002, by Clayton Johnson, USFS Ashley National Forest).

A C

B D

Figure 9-S4.d—The mulching was successful, as observed 

in 2004 at the pueblo site, shown in figure S4.c, 2 years after 

the Rodeo-Chediski Fire (photo courtesy of Barbara Mills, 

University of Arizona).

Figure 9-S4.b—A prehistoric rock shelter shown in 

figure S4.a with treatments to reduce further erosion. 

Protection for archaeological sites must be designed to 

keep erosive and debris flows away from the site, and to 

reduce erosion on the site without further disturbing the 

features. Log erosion barriers are not recommended on 

a cultural site as they raise the risks additional damage 

due to mechanical disturbance and future fire damage. 

Note deposited sediments against straw wattle erosion 

barrier (lower right corner of photo) 10 months after BAER 

placement (Johnson 2004a,b) (photo May 2003, by Clayton 

Johnson, USFS Ashley National Forest).

Figure 9-S4.c—Hand mulching with straw was effectively 

used to protect an archaic pueblo site burned over in the 

2002 Rodeo-Chediski Fire, Apache-Sitgreaves National 

Forest, Arizona (photo courtesy of Barbara Mills, University 

of Arizona). 
188 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

Sidebar 9-5—Structure Protection

Many cultural sites consist of stone, adobe, or wooden structures (log cabins, old barns, mining buildings, historic lookouts, etc.). There are three main mechanisms whereby such structures may be damaged in wildland fires: ignition from a 

wind-blown ember (fig. 9S-5a,b), flame contact from the burning of surface fuels too close to the structure (fig. 9S-5c), and 

radiant heat from an intense surface or crown fire (fig. 9S-5d,e). Spotting distance increases with the intensity of the fire 

and wind (chapter 2). Spotting up to a kilometer is common and spotting up 2 kilometers occurs under ideal conditions. 

Sprinkler systems, fire retardants, and wrapping (fig. 9S-5f) are routinely used, often in combination, to protect historic 

structures (fig. 9S-5g).

Figure 9S-5a—Historic cabin burned from ember-caused 

ignition.

Figure 9S-5b—On the evening of July 29th, 2002, historic 

residences burn during the Long Mesa Fire, Mesa Verde 

National Park, Colorado. On the evening of July 29th, embers from the blaze landed on rooftops and entered into 

attic spaces. Three residences were lost along with other 

infrastructure.

Figure 9S-5c—Damage to a sandstone wall caused by direct flame contact 

during the 2002 Long Mesa Fire, Mesa Verde National Park, Colorado.

A B

C
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 189

Figure 9S-5g—Little Snowy Lookout following foilwrapping and pretreatment with aerial retardants.

Figure 9S-5d—The radiant flux from 

an intense crown fire decreases exponentially with distance. Correspondingly, the exposure time to ignition 

increases exponentially with distance 

from the flame-wall. Because fine canopy fuels burn out quickly (<2 minutes), 

peak intensities can not be sustained 

long enough to ignite wooden structures at a distance greater than about 

30 meters (~ 100 ft.) (Cohen 2000).

Figure 9S-5e—Modeling can be 

used to predict the distance from 

a structure that fuels need to be 

treated to protect structures from 

direct flame ignition.

Figure 9S-5f—Crews commonly wrap back country 

structures with fire shelter cloth to minimize structure 

ignition.

D

E

F
190 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

layers such as structures, roads, ownership, and other 

significant values at risk in the Rapid Assessment of 

Values at Risk model (RAVAR) (Calkin and others 

2008, 2011; Thompson and Calkin 2011). A report is 

generated detailing the probability that these resources 

will be impacted by the spreading fire. The fire’s risk 

to a cultural resource feature class can be a component of this report. To support the WFDSS analysis, 

the cultural resource layer will consist of several attributes that provide basic information about sites so 

that fire staff will have a basic understanding about 

the condition of the site, the fire sensitivity of the site, 

and possible management mitigations or avoidances 

to better protect the site.

Another tool for fire planning is a decision-making 

matrix, developed for the National Park Service that 

is being used as a planning tool to convey essential 

information regarding cultural resources, their contexts, values, and the activities needed to identify and 

manage them within fire situations. Inventory strategies, management objectives, and treatment options 

can be designed to plan for fire events by defining 

cultural resources and their components. This allows 

specialists to see, at a glance, a summary of what resources are present and how they may be effectively 

managed and protected. By looking at the historical 

context of a landscape, surveyors are able to examine 

historic techniques that may influence management 

tactics for the future. By using generalized language 

to describe resource types, security can be maintained 

to protect actual site content while still giving enough 

information to allow for effective management decisions within and around the resource sites.

In addition to categorizing resources, the matrix 

places resources in multiple contexts; defining what 

elements are at risk, what needs protection, and the 

integral characteristics to be preserved. Creating a 

risk matrix also compels administrators to identify 

possible risks directly or indirectly caused during and 

after management, ranging from artifact displacement 

to complete obliteration in some cases. The matrix also 

calls for inventories of sites and suggestions of future 

inventory methodology, associating temporal data 

with each resource. After compiling what resources are 

within the specified area, land management decision 

makers and cultural resource specialists collaborate to 

create appropriate management objectives to achieve a 

desired condition. When the objectives are established, 

several treatment options are proposed to obtain the 

desired conditions, and managers use the best research 

available to choose the best treatment alternative to 

implement. Table 9-2 is a specific example of the matrix 

provided by Great Smokey National Park where cultural resources from both the prehistoric and historic 

periods and major resources which must be preserved 

in fire and vegetation management activities.

Summary ______________________

A large amount of data is becoming available 

concerning various dimensions of cultural resource 

management. These data include detailed information on the different cultural resource materials and 

how they are changed by fire. The behavior of fire and 

associated combustion processes are well understood, 

as are impacts of fire on vegetation, soil, and water. 

The direct and indirect effects of activities associated 

with wildland fire have been well defined. There is 

immediate need to bring together the wide array of 

information into a format that managers can use 

while fighting wildland fire or for planning burns. The 

information should be synthesized into a workable 

set of guidelines for protection of cultural resources. 

Integration of cultural guidelines with Fire Management Plans, MIST Standards, emergency discovery 

plans, and fire management handbooks is critical.
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 191 Table 9-2—Matrix for evaluating potential impacts of fire management activities on cultural resources. Example from the Great Smokey National Park. Matrix developed by Robert J. Jackson, Pacific Legacy. Historic Resource Inventory 

method Management objective Treatments

contexta typeb Properties at riskc Elementsd Risk conditionse proposedf desired condition alternatives/options

Archaic Prehistoric 

Res. procurement camp

Lithic scatters/flaked stone Chert

Displacement from ground disturbance

Documents search, predictive modeling, shovel tests in low slope areas and gaps

Map, maintain site stability and data potential of site components Remove heavy fuels 

Base camp Ground stone Quartz

Breakage from heavy equip./ heating

Documents search, predictive modeling, shovel tests in low slope areas and gaps Maintain cool surface temp Reduce duff consumption

Fire cracked rock Granite

Confounding of thermal dating Avoid crushing artifacts

Line w/o mineral soil disturbance

Charcoal Sandstone

Mistaken raw material type/discoloration Maintain context No heavy equipment

Steatite vessels Steatite

Contamination from new charcoal Map locations Reduce subsurface burning

Charcoal

Displacement from erosion Avoid charcoal contamination Post burn stabilization

Euro American farming Homesteads

Houses, furniture and household goods, outbuildings, apple houses/storage, yards, springhouses, ornamental/food plants, trash

Wood, stone, metal, rubber, plastic, glass, brick, cloth, cement, ceramic, leather, living exotic plants

Breakage from heavy equipment/ heating

20 of the 30 known homesteads have been recorded. The last 10 should be revisited and recorded.

Case by case assessment due to high number of sites and different mgt. objectives by park district

Remove adjacent fuels, maintain greenways, burn during high soil moisture season, engine nearby and monitor during burn, sprinklers, wrap in fs cloth

Fields/Pastures

Fences, rock walls, cultivated species, trash

Wood, stone, metal, rubber, living exoticplants

Artifact displacement from erosion

Case by case assessment due to high number of sites and different mgt. objectives by park district

Mow and wet line fences, monitor during burn and extinguish.

Roads

Earthwork features, rock walls, vehicles, bridges, trash

Wood, stone, metal, rubber, plastic, glass, cement, ceramic, leather, living exotic plants

Loss of features/ Ground disturbance and erosion

Historic maps checked to determine roads that have not been recorded. 

Case by case assessment due to high number of sites and different mgt. objectives by park district

Fuel removal or monitor on case by case basis

Orchards

Fruit and nut trees, wooden fences, rock walls 

Wood, stone, metal, glass, living exotic plants

Loss by burning of cultivated plant spp.

Case by case assessment due to high number of sites and different mgt. objectives by park district

Rake around trees, monitor during burn

aHistoric contexts are the themes, activities, events or time periods that are represented by cultural properties.bResource types are categories of physical objects or properties that share common attributes, elements, and usually functions.cProperties at risk are those that have cultural value and are likely to be damaged by fire activities.dElements are the basic building blocks or constituents that make up a resource.eRisk conditions or activities are the project actions that could damage elements of resource types.fInventory method is the manner in which these properties should be located and recorded or revisited.
192 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

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USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 209

Glossary

adaptive management. The process of implementing policy decisions as scientifically 

driven management experiments that test predictions and assumptions in management 

plans. Adaptive management provides for scientifically based decisions when the results 

of management actions are uncertain.

Advisory Council on Historic Preservation. (United States) An independent Federal 

agency with statutory authority to review and comment on Federal actions affecting properties listed in or eligible for the national Register of Historic Places, to advise the President 

and the Congress on historic preservations matters, and to recommend measures to coordinate activities of Federal, State, and local agencies. Its members include Cabinet-level 

representatives from Federal agencies and presidential appointees from outside the Federal 

government.

anthropology. The scientific study of the human condition, past and present, including 

cultural, biological and physical adaptations over time and in various natural and social 

environments. Anthropology includes the specializations of archaeology, cultural anthropology (including ethnography, ethnology, and applied anthropology), linguistics, and physical 

anthropology. An anthropologist is a scientist with advanced training in any of these sub 

disciplines.

archaeological resource. Any material remains or physical evidence of past human life 

or activities that are of archaeological interest, including the record of the effects of human activities on the environment. They are capable of revealing scientific or humanistic 

information through archaeological research.

archaeological site. Any place where there is physical evidence of past human occupation or activity. Physical evidence may consist of artifacts, features such as agricultural 

terraces and hearths, structures, trash deposits, or alterations of the natural environment 

by human activity.

archaeological survey or inventory. Type of fieldwork used to discover and record surface remains of cultural resources.

archaeology. The scientific study, interpretation, and reconstruction of past human cultures 

from an anthropological perspective based on the investigation of the surviving physical 

evidence of human activity and the reconstruction of related past environments. Historic 

archaeology uses historic documents as additional sources of information. An archaeologist 

is a scientist professionally trained to conduct such studies. Archaeology is a sub-discipline 

of anthropology. 

Archaeological Resources Protection Act of 1979 (ARPA). Established antiquities 

permit system for excavation of archaeological resources, and civil and criminal penalties 

for illegal excavation.

artifact. Any object used or manufactured by humans. Archaeologists study artifacts created or used by people who lived in the past.

aspect. The cardinal direction that the slope of a land surface faces.

association. The relationship between a historic event, activity, or person and a cultural 

resource.

back fire. A fire set in front of an advancing wildfire intended to remove fuels meeting 

management objectives to stop, turn or control the advancing front of the wildfire.
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biomass. The total quantity at a given time of the living or dead organisms on a unit land 

area; often used synonymously to refer to the harvestable woody vegetation, especially when 

considering the harvest of small diameter trees to be used as chips for fuel.

blackening. the presence of carbon deposits on the surface of a specimen formed as a byproduct of the pyrolysis and combustion of organic materials. Generally appears as fine 

carbon particles adhering to the surface of a specimen giving it blackened appearance.

building. An enclosed structure with walls and a roof, consciously created to serve some 

residential, industrial, commercial, agricultural, or other human use.

calcination. Loss of water of crystallization caused by heating resulting in reduction, 

oxidation or desiccation by strong heat.

canopy. (1) The more-or-less continuous cover of branches and foliage formed collectively 

by the crowns of adjacent trees in a stand or forest. (2) The stratum containing the crowns 

of the tallest vegetation present (living and dead).

charring. Carbonization of fuel or organic artifacts during heating or burning; to make or 

become black by burning, scorching.

color change. An observable color change of a specimen from original, pre-fire, color. Generally due to an alteration in the mineral composition of a specimen during exposure to heat.

combustion. The rapid oxidation of fuel in which heat and usually flame are produced. 

Combustion in wildland fuels can be divided into four phases. pre ignition, flaming, smoldering, and glowing.

community values. Beliefs held in common by a group of people.

compactness. Spacing between fuel particles, fuel bed density.

compliance. The process of fulfilling one’s legal responsibilities.

component. Culturally homogeneous stratigraphic unit within an archaeological site.

conduction. A heat-transfer mechanism through movement of gasses and liquids. Substances become heated and cooled through mixing or fluid motion.

context. The environment within which things (artifacts, archaeological sites and even 

cultures) are found or within which they operate. Includes variables of time, space, and 

human activities.

convection. A heating-mechanism through movement of gases and liquids. Substances 

become heated and cooled through mixing or fluid motion.

cover type. The designation of a vegetation complex described by dominant species, ages 

and form.

crazing. The presence of fine, non-linear or latticed cracks on the surface of a specimen.

creeping fire. Slow spreading surface fire with low flames; limited by fuel availability 

either because of limited biomass on the site or limiting high moisture conditions.

crown. The upper part of a tree carrying the main branch system and foliage.
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crown fire. A fire that advances through the canopy of trees or shrubs independently of a 

surface fire, usually ignited by a surface fire, common in coniferous forests and chaparral 

shrublands.

CR. see Cultural Resource.

cultural landscape. Associated with a historic event, activity, or person or exhibiting 

other cultural or aesthetic values. A geographic area, including both cultural and natural 

resources and the wildlife or domestic animals therein. There are four general kinds of 

cultural landscape, not mutually exclusive. historic site, historic designed landscape, 

historic vernacular landscape, and ethnographic landscape. 

cultural resource (often abbreviated CR). An aspect of a cultural system that is valued 

by or significantly representative of a culture or that contains significant information about 

a culture. A cultural resource may be a tangible entity or a cultural practice (see tangible 

cultural resource). Traditionally, this term refers to the physical evidence of past human 

occupations archaeologists use to reconstruct the past. This term has also come to signify 

objects, locations and landscapes that play a significant role in the cultural traditions of a 

group of people. Artifacts, for example, pottery sherds, are one type of cultural resource. 

Certain grasses used for traditional American Indian basketry are another. The remains 

that compose our nonrenewable heritage from the past, including both the archaeological 

and the historical records.

cultural resource management (CRM). Management and conservation of sites and 

artifacts preserving their value for further generations.

cultural resource management. The range of activities aimed at understanding, preserving, and providing for the enjoyment of cultural resources. It includes research related 

to cultural resources, planning for actions affecting them, and stewardship of them in the 

context of land and resource management. It also includes support for the appreciation and 

perpetuation of related cultural practices, as appropriate as well as the conservation and 

selective investigation of prehistoric and historic remains; specifically, the development of 

ways and means, including legislation, to safeguard the past.

Cultural Resource Specialist. A person professionally trained in one of the cultural resource fields. Included are anthropologists (applied cultural anthropologists, archaeologists, 

ethnographers, and ethnohistorians), architectural historians, architectural conservators, 

archivists, curators, historians, historical architects, historical landscape architects, landscape historians, and object conservators.

culture history. See cultural chronology.

culture. A system of behaviors (including economic, religious, and social), beliefs (values, 

ideologies), and social arrangements; the socially transmitted patterns of learned behavior; 

a human means of adaptation. 

data. Relevant observations made on objects, serving as the basis for study and discussion.

data potential. The ability of an artifact or resource class to provide data relevant to particular research objectives. Artifacts and other cultural resources might be affected by a 

process or activity with, or without, loss of potential data. For instance, fires may discolor or 

break artifacts without altering their data potential while other classes of materials may lose 

their data potential with these types of alterations (e.g., technology involved in manufacture 

of stone tools may still be present, even if the tools are broken or discolored; discoloration 

of pottery sherds, however, may lead to their misidentification and loss of data potential).
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direct effects: Those effects caused by fire and its byproducts, such as smoke and ash. Direct 

effects result from the physical state of the fire environment (fuels, weather, and terrain) 

and the ignition pattern (heading-fire, flanking-fire, or backing-fire). Direct effects are the 

result of combustion and subject to all the laws of physics and chemistry, specifically heat 

transfer mechanisms and physical chemistry. 

documentation. Drawings, photographs, writings, and other media that depict cultural 

and natural resources.

duff. The layer of partially and fully decomposed organic materials (leaves, pine needles, 

etc.) lying below the new forest litter and immediately above mineral soil. It includes the 

fermentation and humus layers of the forest floor (02 soil horizon or alternatively in some 

classifications Oe + Oa horizons).

ecofact. Geological, biological, or botanical evidence used in deciphering the natural environment of an archaeological site. It may involve inorganic material (minerals, soils, etc.) 

or organic material (animal parts, such as bone, teeth, and antlers; plant parts, such as 

pollen, seeds, and leaves; and human remains, such as bone, teeth, coprolites, and quids).

ecosystem. The living organisms of an area, the physical environment in which they live, 

and the interactions between them; interrelated living entities, including humans, and 

their physical environment.

ecosystem management. The use of an ecological management approach that blends 

the needs of people and environmental values in such a way that the National Forests and 

Grasslands represent diverse, healthy, productive and sustainable ecosystems. Healthy 

ecosystems are those that maintain biological diversity, biotic integrity and ecological 

processes over time.

edge. (1) The area where plant communities meet or where seral stages or vegetative 

conditions within plant communities come together. (2) The boundary between two fairly 

distinct fuel types.

effects. Changes incurred to resources as a result of exposure to heat or from activities 

undertaken to prescribe burn, or to suppress fires and rehabilitate burned areas. Effects 

may be adverse, beneficial, significant, insignificant, actual, potential, short or long term, 

unavoidable or irreversible. In NEPA (United States) documents, effects are usually analyzed 

in three categories – direct effects (First-Order), or those occurring at the same time and 

place as the triggering action; indirect effects, or those removed in time or distance from the 

triggering action; and cumulative effects, which includes an assessment of the past actions 

coupled with the proposed action and any reasonably foreseeable (i.e., planned) actions in 

the area in the future.

ethnic. A group or category of people who share or believe they share similar characteristics 

based on, for example, ancestry, language, and religion.

ethnographic group. Historically documented group or culture, usually meaning an 

American Indian group or other group sharing a common history.

ethnographic resource. A site, structure, object, landscape, or natural resource feature 

assigned traditional legendary, religious, subsistence, or other significance in the cultural 

system of a group traditionally associated with it.

excavation. The scientific examination of an archaeological site through layer-by-layer 

removal and study of the contents within prescribed surface units, e.g., square meters.
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 213

feature (archaeological). Nonportable object, located in an archaeological site, not recoverable from its matrix without destroying its integrity. Examples are rock paintings, 

hearths, post holes, floors, and walls. 

feature (historic). (1) A prominent or distinctive aspect, quality, or characteristic or a 

historic property; (2) a historic property.

feeling. A property’s expression of the aesthetic or historic sense of a particular period of 

time.

fire. Rapid oxidation of biomass accompanied by the evolution of energy in the form of 

sensible heat and light.

fire front. The moving region within which continuous flaming combustion occurs along 

the fire perimeter (see flame depth).

fire intensity. Used in this volume as equivalent to fireline intensity. 

fire regime. Description of the patterns of fire including the frequency, occurrences, 

intensity, predictability size and seasonality of burns for a given location or ecosystem. 

Information from the historic record is used to schedule fuel reduction treatments and 

predict probably effects.

fire return interval (fire cycle or fire turnover time). The number of years between 

fires in a given location.

fire severity. A relative term used to describe the effect of the fire on a site’s biophysical 

properties or cultural features; dependent on fireline intensity and residence time.

fireline. A constructed area around a fire that is dug to mineral soil to remove fuels and 

thereby, control the fire’s spread. In general, for a fireline to be effective, it should be 1.5 

times as wide as the height of the fuel that is burning. When fire lines are cut by crews 

using hand tools, they are often referred to as handlines; when cut by equipment such as a 

bulldozer, they are called dozerlines.

fireline intensity. The rate of heat energy released per unit length of the fire front, usually expressed as BTU/second/foot. Fire intensity or fireline intensity, is a meausre of the 

difficulty of suppressing a fire, and helps project a fire’s potential for torching, spotting 

and crowning.

First-Order Fire Effects. Biophysical changes that occur directly as a result of the fire 

such as fuel consumption, smoke production, vegetation mortality, or soil heating; processes modeled in the First-Order Fire Effects Model (FOFEM) (Reinhardt et al. 2007). See 

Second-Order and Third-Order Fire Effects.

flame length. The length of flames in the propagating fire front measured along the slant 

of the flame from the midpoint of its base to its tip. Mathematically related to fireline intensity and the height of scorch in the tree crown, whereas flame height is not.

flaming combustion phase. Luminous oxidation of gases evolved from the rapid decomposition of fuel. This phase follows the pre-ignition phase and precedes the smoldering 

combustion phase, which has a much lower combustion rate. Water vapor, soot, and tar 

comprise the visible smoke. Relatively efficient combustion produces minimal soot and tar, 

resulting in white smoke; high moisture content also produces white smoke.

flank fire. Fire artificially created to achieve management objectives moving at right angles 

or obliquely to the direction taken by the head fire, usually. Lines of fire set into the wind 

that burn outward at right angles to the wind.
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forb. Any non-grasslike plant having little or no woody material on it. A palatable, broadleaved, flowering herb whose above ground stem does not become woody and persistent.

forest cover type. A classification of forest land referring to a group of timber stands of 

similar development and species composition.

fracturing. The fracturing of a specimen into multiple pieces and/or the presence of fractures or fissures that penetrate deeply into a specimen.

fuel bed. The entire biomass, live and dead, that is available to burn.

fuel continuity. A qualitative description of the distribution of fuels both horizontally and 

vertically. Continuous fuels readily support fire spread. The larger the fuel discontinuity, 

the greater the fire intensity required for fire spread.

fuel loading. The oven-dry weight of all existing fuels (may be available fuel or total fuel) 

in a given area. Loading is further analyzed by fuel size. Loading or mass per unit is usually expressed in tons per acre.

fuel treatment. The rearrangement or disposal of natural or activity fuels to reduce fire 

hazard or to accomplish other resource management objectives (e.g. lopping, chipping, piling, burning and crushing).

Fuels. (Wildland fire) Any living or dead vegetation that can be ignited and is capable of 

sustaining or carrying a wildland fire. (Other) Chemical compounds capable of releasing 

usable energy.

goal. In land planning, a goal is a concise statement that describes a desired condition to 

be achieved sometime in the future. It is normally expressed in broad, general terms that 

are timeless in that there is no specific date by which the goal is to be achieved.

ground fire. Fire that burns in the organic material below the litter layer, mostly by smoldering combustion. Fires in duff, peat, dead moss, lichens, and partly decomposed wood are 

typically ground fires.

habitat. The sum total of environmental conditions of a specific place occupied by an organism, population, or community of plants and animals.

head fire. The fire’s most rapidly advancing edge; the forward movement of a flaming front.

heritage resources. A term adopted by the US Forest Service, more inclusive than the 

traditional term, “cultural resources.” Heritage resources include objects, locations and landscapes that play a significant role in the cultural traditions of a group of people. Heritage 

resources also include physical materials, such as artifacts, that may provide information 

about people who lived in the past.

historic. The time period after appearance of written records. In North America, this period 

begins with Spanish contact, after A.D. 1500. The wide-ranging influence of inter-cultural 

contact during the historic period represents significant changes to the archaeological record. 

historic landscape. A cultural landscape associated with events, persons, design styles, 

or ways of life that are significant in American history, landscape architecture, archaeology, engineering, and culture; a landscape listed in or eligible for the National Register of 

Historic Places.

historic property. A district, site, structure, or landscape significant in American history, 

architecture, engineering, archaeology, or culture; an umbrella term for all entries in the 

National Register of Historic Places.
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 215

historic site. A landscape significant for its association with a historic event, activity, or 

person. (Cultural Resource Management Guideline Glossary: 1997, p. 179 the site itself 

possesses historical, cultural, or archaeological value apart from the value of any existing 

structure or landscape); see cultural landscape.

historical archaeologist. Scientist with advanced training in historical archaeology and 

in the use of historical documents in the reconstruction of the past (see anthropology).

historical archaeology. Sub-discipline of archaeology concerned with the remains left 

by literate societies (in contrast to prehistoric archaeology, although the distinction is not 

always clear-cut). In the United States, historical archaeology generally deals with the evidences of Euro-American societies and of aboriginal societies after major cultural disruption 

or material change from Euro-American contact.

history. Study of the past through written records, oral history, and material culture. 

Evidence from these is compared, judged for veracity, placed in chronological or topical 

sequence, and interpreted in light of preceding, contemporary, and subsequent events.

identification. Process through which cultural resources are made known.

indirect effects: Those fire effects that are derived from or dependant on the fire’s 

occurrence, but that are not caused by the biophysical process of combustion. If the fire had 

not occurred indirect effects could not occur. Indirect effects are of two types: biophysical 

processes acting on the fire-altered environment and human responses. 

infiltration. The passage of water through the soil surface into the soil.

integrity. the authenticity of a property’s historic identity, evidenced by the survival of 

physical characteristics that existed during its historic or prehistoric period; the extent to 

which a property retains its historic appearance.

intangible effects. The effects of natural disturbance, e.g., fire and epidemics, or active 

management, e.g., fuels treatment and restoration on humans’ spiritual or emotional sense 

of well being (sense of place). 

inventory. A list of cultural resources, usually of a given type and/or in a given area.

Location. The place where the historic property was constructed or the place where the 

historic event(s) occurred.

landscape. A region that includes a variety of plant and animal communities and environments.

litter. The top layer of the forest floor (01 soil horizon, alternatively the Oi horizon in 

some classifications); includes freshly fallen leaves, needles, fine twigs, bark flakes, fruits, 

matted dead grass, and a variety of miscellaneous vegetative parts that are unaltered by 

decomposition. Litter also accumulates beneath rangeland shrubs. Some surface feather 

moss and lichens are considered to be litter because their moisture response is similar to 

that of fine dead fuel.

management area (MA). A contiguous area of land used in planning to which one or more 

management prescriptions are applied. These areas have similar characteristics, similar 

capability and common management direction. Management areas do not vary between 

alternatives; however, the prescriptions applied to them may vary.

management practice. A specific activity, measure, course of action, or treatment.
216 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

Management Prescription. Management practices and levels of intensity selected and 

scheduled for application on a specific area to further forest goals and objectives.

mass transport (spotting). The dominating fire-propagating mechanism for high intensity fires where burning embers are moved through the air far ahead of the flaming front 

via surface winds.

material. The physical elements that were combined or deposited to form a property. Historic material or historic fabric is that from a historically significant period, as opposed to 

material used to maintain or restore a property following its historic period(s).

midden. Layers of soil mixed with prehistoric or historic trash including broken pottery, 

animal bones, discarded shell, charcoal, etc. ; an accumulation of debris, resulting from human disposal behavior, removed from areas of manufacturing and use; it may be the result 

of one-time refuse disposal or long-term disposal resulting in stratification.

mitigation. Actions to avoid, minimize, compensate, reduce, eliminate, or rectify the adverse effects of a management practice. Mitigation measures can include efforts to educate 

governments, businesses and the general public on measures they can take to reduce loss 

and injury and are often informed by lessons learned from prior incidents.

mechanical fire suppression. The use of machinery such as bulldozers to control and 

extinguish fire following detection by removing available fuel and creating large lines of 

exposed mineral soil.

mineral soil. The soil layer directly below the litter and duff layers composed of sand, 

silt, clay and less than 20% organic matter. Its properties are predominantly determined 

by inorganic matter.

mitigation. Actions to avoid, minimize, compensate, reduce, eliminate, or rectify the adverse effects of a management practice.

moisture content. The amount of water contained by a fuel in relation to the weight of 

the particle. Fuel moisture is directly correlated with fire propagation and is essential for 

predicting expected fire behavior on a site.

monitoring. The formal evaluation, on a sample basis, of management practices to determine 

how well objectives have been met, as well as the effects of those management practices on 

the land and environment; a critical component of adaptive management.

mortality. Dead or dying vegetation resulting from forest fire, insects, diseases, climate 

or other factors.

museum object. A material thing possessing functional, aesthetic, cultural, symbolic, and/

or scientific value, usually movable by nature or design. Museum objects include prehistoric 

and historic objects, artifacts, works of art, archival material, and natural history specimens 

that are part of a museum collection. Structural components may be designated museum 

objects when removed from their associated structures. Large or immovable properties, such 

as monumental statuary, trains, nautical vessels, cairns, and rock paintings, are defined 

as structures or features of sites.

Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act of 1990 (NAGPRA) 

(United States). The Act provides for the inventory and return of human remains, associated and unassociated objects from burial contexts, sacred objects, and items of patrimony 

to the descendents. Cultural affiliation is to be determined by the Federal government.
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 217

National Register of Historic Places (United States). The comprehensive list of districts, 

sites, buildings, structures, and objects of national, regional, state, and local significance 

in American history, architecture, archaeology, engineering, and culture kept by the NPS 

under authority of the National Historic Preservation Act of 1966.

Native American. Pertaining to American Indian tribes or groups, Eskimos and Aleuts, 

and native Hawaiians, Samoans, Chamorros, and Carolinians of the Pacific Islands. Groups 

recognized by the Federal and State governments and named groups with long-term social 

and political identities who are defined by themselves and others as Indian are included.

natural fuels. Fuels resulting from natural processes and not directly generated or altered 

by management activity. This includes fuels that have accumulated because of deliberate 

fire exclusion.

objective. In land planning, an objective is a concise, time-specific statement of measurable desired condition that responds to pre-established goals. An objective forms the basis 

for further planning to define the precise steps to be taken and resources used in achieving 

identified goals.

oxidation. The process in which an atom or ion combines with oxygen. Oxidation of iron 

may cause pottery to turn red in color and metal to rust. The oxidation of pigment (organic 

or mineral) on decorated ceramic specimens. Alterations can include a change in color from 

the original pigment black to red), or the combustion of the pigment entirely. Oxidation of 

carbon creates carbon dioxide gas.

patination. An alteration of rock surfaces by molecular or chemical change; cherts and 

flints develop weathered surface.

pitting. Formation of depressed scars.

potlidding. The process of flakes popping off leaving irregular, pitted scar; result of differential expansion of heated rock. It is similar to spalling, but specific to lithic artifacts 

manufactured from cryptocrystalline silicate rocks such as chert. The fracture is characterized by a circular pit on the surface of the specimen. The pit represents the area in which the 

original portion of the surface has been exfoliated due to differential heating and pressure 

release. The exfoliated section is generally circular, flat on the dorsal side, and convex on 

the ventral side (resembling the lid of a cooking pot).

potsherds. Broken pieces of ceramic vessels. Archaeologists collect data from potsherds to 

learn about the lifeways of past peoples.

prehistoric. The time period before the appearance of written records. In North America, 

the prehistoric period ends with Spanish contact.

prehistory. The course of events in the period before recorded history.

prescribed burn. Intentional use of fire under predetermined weather and fuel conditions 

to achieve specific objectives, e.g., disposal of slash, control of unwanted vegetation.

preservation. The act or process of applying measures to sustain the existing form, integrity, and material of a historic structure, landscape or object. 

protection. Action to safeguard a historic property by defending or guarding it from further 

deterioration, loss, or attack or shielding it from danger or injury. In the case of structures 

and landscapes such action is generally of a temporary nature and anticipates future 

preservation treatment; in the case of archaeological sites, the protective measure may be 

temporary or permanent. Protection in its broadest sense also includes long-term efforts to 

deter or prevent vandalism, theft, arson, and other criminal acts against cultural resources.
218 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

provenience. The location of an artifact or structure described in terms of horizontal location, distance and direction from a known point on a topographic or plan map and vertical 

locations, e.g., surface or subsurface.

radiation. A heat transfer mechanism that relies on energy transmission through waves 

or a stream of particles where though the energy is traveling through space, only the object 

is heated and not the surrounding space.

Radiocarbon Dating (14C dating). An “absolute” or chronometric dating technique for 

organic material applied by comparing its amount of 14C, a radioactive carbon isotope, to 

that present in living material.

records. refers to all information fixed in a tangible form. Used by the National Archives 

and Records Administration to refer to official records (q.v.).

rehabilitation. The act or process of making possible an efficient compatible use for a 

historic structure or landscape through repair, alterations, and additions while preserving 

those portions or features that convey its historical, cultural, and architectural values.

relative humidity. The ratio of the actual water vapor pressure at a given time to the 

vapor pressure saturated air at the same ambient temperature is capable of carrying when 

saturated; expressed as a percentage. The air’s ability to hold moisture increases with air 

temperature increasing.

repair. Action to correct deteriorated, damaged, or faulty materials or features of a structure or landscape.

restoration. Interventive treatment action taken to return an object to its original or former 

appearance by removing accretions and later additions and/or by replacing missing elements: 

(1) The act or process of accurately depicting the form, features, and character of a historic 

structure, landscape, or object as it appeared at a particular period of time by means of the 

removal of features from other periods in its history and reconstruction of missing features 

from the restoration period; (2) the resulting structure, landscape, or object.

residence time (duration of fire). The length of time that combustion occurs at a given 

point. Relates closely to downward heating and fire effects below the fuel surface, as well 

as heating of tree boles above the surface. Also known as residence time.

return interval. The mean time between disturbances on any given piece of ground (sometimes known as a “cycle” or the “turnover time”). Fire return interval is the length of time 

between fires.

risk. potential danger as measured by the probability of damages or losses and the magnitude of the consequences. 

Second-Order fire effects. Fire effects that result from the combined effects of post-fire 

influences, e.g., drought, erosion, insect and disease attack acting upon the fire-altered 

biophysical system.

Section 106 (United States): The section of the National Historic Preservation Act, as 

amended in 1992, that requires consultation between an agency and the SHPO or THPO

when ground disturbance may occur on a Federal project or on any project that uses Federal 

funding. Also requires Native American consultation. Term is often applied to the documentation that must be submitted. Section 106 requires Federal agencies to take into account the 

effects of their proposed undertakings on properties included or eligible for inclusion in the 

National Register of Historic Places and give the Advisory Council on Historic Preservation 

a reasonable opportunity to comment on the proposed undertakings.
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 219

setting. The physical environment of a historic property; the character of the place in which 

the property played its historical role.

site preparation. Preparing an area of land for reforestation; may include removing unwanted vegetation and debris from a site.

size class. A standard size classification system used for fuel inventory or timber management planning inventories. 

State Historic Preservation Office or Officers for each state (SHPO). An official within 

each State appointed by the governor to administer the state historic preservation program 

and carry out certain responsibilities relating to Federal undertakings within the State.

sintering. In ceramics, the process by which clay particles adhere to one another when 

heated close to but below their melting points. Sintering causes fired pottery to become 

hard and dense.

slash. The residue left on the ground after timber cutting, or after storms, fire, etc. It includes 

unutilized logs, uprooted stumps, broken stems, branches, twigs, leaves, bark, and chips.

smoldering. A slow spreading fire burning without flame.

smoldering combustion. Combined process of dehydration, paralysis, solid oxidation, 

and scattered flaming combustion and glowing combustion, which occur after the flaming combustion phase of a fire; often characterized by large amounts of smoke consisting 

mainly of tars.

snag. A standing dead tree from which the leaves and some of the branches have fallen. 

For wildlife purposes, one that is at least 15 inches DBH and 20 feet tall.

sooting. The carbon-based solid residue created by incomplete combustion of carbon-based 

fuels, resulting in smudging and blackening of the surface.

spalling. the exfoliation of a portion of the original surface of a specimen resulting from 

internal pressures associated with differential expansion or contraction upon heating or 

cooling. Differential expansion or contraction results from internal variation in the mineralogy or moisture content. For example, an artifact may exhibit spalling when its surface 

heats or cools more rapidly than its interior.

stabilization. Interventive treatment action taken to increase the stability or durability of 

an object when preventive conservation measures fail to decrease its rate of deterioration 

to an acceptable level or when it has deteriorated so far that its existence is jeopardized; 

actions taken to render an unsafe, damaged, or deteriorated property stable while retaining its present form.

stand. A community of trees or other vegetation sufficiently uniform in composition, constitution, age, spatial arrangement, or condition to be distinguishable from adjacent communities and to thus form a management entity; the basic unit for silvicultural prescriptions.

stratigraphy. The layered geological and/or cultural sediments in a site, whose arrangement allows interpretations of the site’s cultural chronology.

structure. A constructed work, usually immovable by nature or design, consciously created to serve some human activity. Examples are buildings of various kinds, monuments, 

damns, roads, railroad tracks, canals, millraces, bridges, tunnels, locomotives, nautical 

vessels, stockades, forts and associated earthworks, Indian mounds, ruins, fences, and 

outdoor sculpture. In the National Register program “structure” is limited to functional 

constructions other than buildings.
220 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

subsistence. The traditional use of natural plants and wild animals for personal or family 

consumption, for the making and selling of handicraft articles out of the non-edible byproducts of fish and wildlife resources taken for personal or family use or consumption, and 

for customary trade. In Alaskan and Pacific parks, subsistence is the significant economic 

and cultural dependence on the harvest of wild natural resources by local rural residents 

through traditional hunting, fishing, and gathering activities. The legislation for some parks 

defines what constitutes subsistence there.

succession. the gradual supplanting of one plant community by a higher ecologically 

ordered one as a site changes over time, until a climax community is reached.

suppression. Actions taken to exclude, extinguish or confine a fire.

surface fire. A fire that burns in litter, dead branches, leaves and low vegetation at or near 

the surface of the ground, mostly by flaming combustion but not reaching the crowns of trees.

tangible cultural resources. Resources that are categorized as districts, sites, buildings, 

structures, and objects for the National Register of Historic Places and as archaeological 

resources, cultural landscapes, structures, museum objects, and ethnographic resources 

for management purposes.

tangible effects. The purposeful, intentional, observable, measurable human responses 

to the perceived risks or opportunities presented by fire or resource management. These 

include suppression, rehabilitation, mitigation, and exploitation. 

temper. An archaeological term referring to non-plastic materials such as sand or crushed 

potsherds that traditional potters may add to improve the properties of raw clay. Modern 

ceramists use the term differently, referring to liquid additive; added to clay prior to pottery 

manufacture to reduce shrinkage and breakage during drying and firing.

temperature. The degree of hotness or coldness of an object or environment. Temperature 

can be measured using Fahrenheit (°F), Celsius (°C)or Kelvin (°K) scales.

thermoluminescence (TL). An absolute dating method for objects that were heated during manufacture or use. Measures the light energy released from an object when heated 

to 500 °C under laboratory conditions; the amount of energy released depends on the time 

passed since the object was last heated.

Third-Order effects. The impacts of fire on the human environment .Third-Order effects 

may be tangible or intangible. 

THPO. Tribal Historic Preservation Office or Officer.

threshold. The point or level of activity beyond which an undesirable set of responses 

begins to take place within a given resource system.

torching. A surface fire that intermittently moves vertically, consuming individual tree 

crowns, shrubs or small groups of trees as it advances through a forest stand; also termed 

passive crown fire.

traditional. Pertains to recognizable but not necessarily identical cultural patterns transmitted by a group across at least two successive generations. Also applies to sites, structures, 

objects, landscapes, and natural resources associated with those patterns. Popular synonyms 

include ancestral and customary.
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 221

traditional knowledge. The total understanding by indigenous people of their relationship to the earth and the universe, and the knowledge inherent within that relationship. 

This knowledge includes the spiritual, physical, emotional, and mental aspects of a person 

and related components of the earth and universe to these aspects

traditional ecological knowledge (TEK). TEK refers to the ability of Aboriginal peoples to 

comprehend local-ecosystem interrelationships and to achieve sustainable levels of resource 

use with no or minimum disruptions to ecosystem functions. It is the evolving knowledge 

acquired by indigenous and local peoples over hundreds or thousands of years through 

direct contact with the environment. This knowledge is specific to a location and includes 

the relationships between plants, animals, natural phenomena, landscapes and timing of 

events that are used for lifeways. It is an accumulating body of knowledge, practice, and 

belief, evolving by adaptive processes and handed down through generations by cultural 

transmission, about the relationship of living beings (human and non-human) with one 

another and with the environment. It encompasses the world view of indigenous people, 

which includes ecology, spirituality, human and animal relationships, and more.

traditional cultural property (TCP). A property associated with cultural practices or 

beliefs of a living community that are rooted in that community’s history or are important 

in maintaining its cultural identity. Traditional cultural properties are ethnographic resources eligible for listing in the National Register. A location significant for its value to a 

community, based on traditional practices, beliefs, or customs, as long as the value extends 

into the past for at least 50 years. TCPs may be unaltered landscapes or historic properties.

tree tip-up. A tree that falls, exposing the root structure and leaving a void in the soil.

understory. Low-lying vegetation (herbaceous, brush or reproduction) growing under a 

stand of trees, i.e., the portion of trees in a forest stand below the overstory.

undertaking (United States). As referred to in Section 106 of the National Historic Preservation Act, any Federal, Federally assisted, Federally licensed, or Federally sanctioned 

project, activity, or program that can result in changes in the character or use of historic 

properties. Undertakings include new and continuing projects, programs, and activities that 

are (1) directly undertaken by Federal agencies; (2) supported in whole or in part, directly or 

indirectly, by Federal agencies; (3) carried out pursuant to a Federal lease, permit, license, 

approval, or other form of permission; or (4) proposed by a Federal agency for congressional 

authorization or appropriation. Undertakings may or may not be site-specific (see 36 CFS 

800.2 [o] and Section 301[7] of the National Historic Preservation Act).

vegetation management. The practice of manipulating the species mix, age, fuel load, and 

distribution of wildland plant communities within a management area. It includes prescribed 

burning, grazing, chemical applications, biomass harvesting, and any other economically 

feasible method of enhancing, retarding, or removing the above ground parts of plants.

vesiculation. The formation of abundant and interconnected bubbles throughout the 

interior and at the surface of the glass object as a result of heating that, in turn, causes 

deformation and increase in object volume size or size.

vitrification. Melting and fusion of glassy minerals within clay during high-temperature 

firing of pottery (above 1000 °C), resulting in loss of porosity; the process in which a substance melts and turns to glass.

water bar. A shallow channel or raised barrier used as an erosion control structure with 

a cross drain to divert water to prevent gullying.

watershed. The total area above a given point on a stream contributing water to the flow 

at that point.
222 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

wet line. A line of water, or water and chemical retardant, sprayed along the ground that 

serves as a temporary control line from which to ignite or stop a low-intensity fire.

wildfire. An unplanned ignition of a wildland fire (such as a fire caused by lightning, volcanoes, unauthorized and accidental or human-caused fires) and prescribed fires that have 

exceeded prescription parameters or otherwise meets the criteria for conversion to wildfires 

(Guidance for Implementation of Federal Wildland Fire Management Policy. February, 2009).

wind direction. Compass direction from which wind is blowing, measured in 45° angles, 

generally referencing the cardinal directions.

wind speed. Ratio of the distance covered by the air to the time taken to cover that distance. 

Wind, in MPH, is measured at 20 feet above open, level ground or as adjusted to meet this 

standard to compensate.
USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012 223

Index

A

Advisory Council on Historic 

Preservation 186

Antiquities Act 6

Archaeological Resource Protection Act 

186

artifacts 20

B

BAER. See Burned Area Emergency 

Rehabilitation (BAER)

Bandelier National Monument 7, 126, 

143, 145, 149, 151, 152, 154, 156

basalt 105, 109, 122, 124, 127

BehavePlus 52

bone 142, 148, 152

Bugaboo Fire 175, 176

Burned Area Emergency Rehabilitation 

(BAER) 126, 127, 187

C

calcium carbonate 90, 91, 95

Canadian Environmental Assessment 

Act (CEAA) 8

Canadian Forest Fire Behavior 

Prediction System (FBP) 27, 39

Canadian Register of Historic Places 8

CEAA. See Canadian Environmental 

Assessment Act

ceramics 88, 91, 92, 94

Chapin 5 Fire 125

charcoal 17, 18, 40, 113, 141, 149, 150

chert 98, 99, 99–101, 147

clay 87, 89

climatology 23

combustion 11, 17, 20, 21, 22, 23, 26, 

27, 29, 29–37, 30, 31, 32, 40, 52, 

56–57, 174, 175, 183, 190

efficiency 18

flaming 17, 33

glowing 40

preheating 17

smoldering 18, 37, 38, 40

Consultation and Coordination with 

Indian Tribal Governments (E.O. 

13175) 6

consumption 177

cultural resource 12, 177

categories 9, 10

protection 186

D

decision-making matrix 190–191

Dome Fire 92, 95, 103, 145, 151, 152, 

154, 155, 156

Dutton Point Fire 92

F

FARSITE 52

Federal Wildland Fire Management 

Policy 6, 157

fire behavior 15–84

concepts and models 23

fire behavior software

BehavePlus 52

FARSITE 52

FireFamily Plus 52

FlamMap 52

NEXUS 52

fire effects 11, 38, 15–84, 53, 144, 152, 

153, 155, 156, 164

below-ground 29

concepts and models 23

direct 11, 12, 18, 145

first order 11, 13, 18

indirect 12, 18, 145

operational 14

second order 11, 12, 18

third order 12, 14

fire suppression 14

mitigation 14

rehabilitation 14

restoration 14

fire effects on

bone 148, 149

ceramics 85–96

cultural resources 44, 164

historical artifacts 131–142

historical sites 131–142

intangible cultural resources 157–170

lithic artifacts 97–112, 147

obsidian 150–151

pollen 149

pottery 86–96

rock art 18

rock images 113–130

subsurface archaeological deposits 

143–156

fire exclusion 5, 143

fire frequency 45

fire intensity 56

fire management

implications 171–191

fire management plan (FMP) 172, 174

fire regime 16, 22, 45

fire spread probability model (FSPro) 

186

fire suppression 6, 16, 38, 57, 111, 130, 

143, 147, 170, 171, 172, 175, 176, 

177, 180, 182, 186

fire triangle 16, 22

fire weather 23

First-Order Fire Effects 12

First Order Fire Effects Model (FOFEM) 

45, 53

FlamMap 52

fluxing agent 90

FMP. See fire management plan (FMP)

FOFEM 41. See also First Order Fire 

Effects Model (FOFEM)

FSPro. See fire spread probability model

fuel

consumption 53, 67, 172, 185

loading 37, 106, 108, 111, 122, 125

models 27, 52

moistur 26

moisture 25, 29, 38, 52, 53

treatment 2, 52, 165, 171

fuel consumption 39

fuel loading 34

fuel moisture 68

G

glass 90, 137–138, 140, 142

H

Healthy Forests Restoration Act 6, 45, 

157, 158

heat transfer 11, 15, 18, 20, 21, 22, 27, 

41, 183

conduction 18, 19, 20, 37

convection 18, 20, 27, 37, 118, 125

radiation 18, 19, 20, 27, 37, 118, 189

mass transport 20

Henry Fire 92, 94, 95

historical artifacts 140

Historic Sites Act 6

hydration 94, 98, 99, 103, 104, 105

K

Knife River Indian Villages National 

Historic Site 139

L

La Mesa Fire 7, 95, 149, 150, 151

lithic artifacts 46, 94, 97–112, 110, 111

flaked stone 97

ground stone 97

Long Mesa Fire 144, 149, 153, 188
224 USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. RMRS-GTR-42-vol. 3. 2012

M

Mesa Verde National Park 93, 108, 125, 

144, 153, 180, 181, 188

Minimum Impact Suppression 

Techniques (MIST) 180, 182, 

190

MIST. See Minimum Impact 

Suppression Techniques (MIST)

mitigation 6, 14, 127–130, 164, 165, 

172, 183, 186, 190

Moccasin Fire 93

Mustang Fire 178, 187

N

National Fire Danger Rating System 

(NFDRS) 41, 42

National Historic Preservation Act 

(NHPA) 2, 6, 8, 131, 161, 167, 

170, 172

National Register of Historic Places 

(NRHP) 6, 8, 10

NHPA. See National Historic 

Preservation Act

NRHP. See National Register of Historic 

Places (NRHP)

O

obsidian 98, 99, 101–102, 103–105, 117, 

148, 150–151, 154, 155

oxidation 17, 88, 90, 92, 110, 136, 141, 

146, 148

P

palynology 149

pollen 7, 93, 95, 108, 145, 149, 152

post-fire treatment 186

pottery 85, 86–96, 87, 88, 93, 95

prescribed fire 10, 11, 92, 98, 100, 104, 

108, 111, 130, 139, 142, 146, 147, 

151, 152, 154, 155, 156, 177, 182, 

183, 185, 186

R

Rapid Assessment of Values at Risk 

(RAVAR) 190

RAVAR. See Rapid Assessment of 

Values at Risk

reference fire regime. See  baseline fire 

regime

rehabilitation 186

Reservoir Salvage Act 6

retardant 12, 108, 118, 132, 136, 137, 

147, 171, 175, 180, 181, 185

effects on cultural resources 180

Rodeo-Chediski Fire 187

S

sedimentary rock 87

sherd 85, 88, 90, 91, 92, 93, 95, 144, 147, 

164, 176

Standards and Guidelines for the 

Conservation of Historic Places in 

Canada 8

State Historic Preservation Office 186

T

temper 87

thermal effects 23, 47, 98, 99, 106, 

108–109, 109, 110, 117

thermal fracturing 100

thermal shock 148

thermoluminescence (TL) 85, 92, 93, 

95, 101, 105

traditional cultural properties (TCPs) 

10, 11

traditional ecological knowledge (TEK) 

11, 12, 160, 164

W

WFDSS. See Wildland Fire Decision 

Support System

Wildland Fire Decision Support System 

(WFDSS) 186

Y

Yellowstone Fire 102

Yellowstone National Park 102

Federal Recycling Program Printed on Recycled Paper

The Rocky Mountain Research Station develops scientific information 

and technology to improve management, protection, and use of the 

forests and rangelands. Research is designed to meet the needs of 

the National Forest managers, Federal and State agencies, public and 

private organizations, academic institutions, industry, and individuals. 

Studies accelerate solutions to problems involving ecosystems, range, 

forests, water, recreation, fire, resource inventory, land reclamation, 

community sustainability, forest engineering technology, multiple use 

economics, wildlife and fish habitat, and forest insects and diseases. 

Studies are conducted cooperatively, and applications may be found 

worldwide.

Station Headquarters

Rocky Mountain Research Station

240 W Prospect Road

Fort Collins, CO 80526

(970) 498-1100

Research Locations

Reno, Nevada

Albuquerque, New Mexico

Rapid City, South Dakota

Logan, Utah

Ogden, Utah

Provo, Utah

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