Chasing Smoke Through the Flint Hills

A common theme in community Facebook groups across Central Kansas along the I-135 corridor this time of year is the post: “What’s on fire?” Often, the answer is the Flint Hills—but why, and who’s responsible?

Landowners and ranchers spend early spring planning, gathering necessary burn permits, and waiting for the right conditions—when humidity and wind align—to burn their land. The use of fire as a management tool dates back to the first people of Kansas. In those days, the fresh green grass that followed a burn attracted bison, making hunting easier for Native peoples.

Today, it remains an essential tool for maintaining the tallgrass ecosystem. Fire helps eliminate invasive species like eastern red cedar, which, if left unchecked, can quickly overtake a pasture. It also improves soil health and increases nutrients for grazing cattle as new shoots of grass emerge.

So, on a particularly smoky afternoon in Salina, I loaded up the gear and headed East. My travels took me down I-70 to Highway 177, where I turned South. The air was thick with smoke, and the gray sky made spotting fires harder than I had imagined.

As I approached Alta Vista, I noticed smoke rising East of town. When I arrived, I found a five-person crew working in unison—it was clearly not their first time. They had already established a back burn line along the West edge of their property. This line of fire removed all vegetation, ensuring that as the rest of the field burned toward it, the fire would eventually die out.

Once the back burn was established, the real show began. One crew member—the “fireman”—carried a drip torch along the East edge of the field, lighting the leading edge of the fire. With steady East winds, the flames and wall of smoke pushed across the pasture toward the established firebreak, while the rest of the crew worked to keep everything under control on the edges.

The entire process moved quickly. As the controlled burn died down, the crew regrouped around a deuce-and-a-half truck converted into a water tanker. They refilled, discussed the next burn, and took note of a slight shift in wind direction before getting started on the next field.

As the sun began to set over the Flint Hills, the fires became much easier to spot. Another burn near Volland could be seen for miles, this one stretching across more rugged terrain than the last. The iconic zigzag lines of fire lighting up the rolling hills at night made for a perfect ending to another adventure in the Flint Hills. Photos and article by Tanner Colvin