ANGELES
                    NATIONAL FOREST -- The day after the Williams Fire broke
                    out, Rita Plair-Wears was driving into the forest on patrol
                    when she spotted the unthinkable in her rear-view mirror …
                    a truck full of people with a hibachi in back.
                    As fire scorched thousands of acres
                    of wilderness just east of Highway 39 in the Angeles
                    National Forest, the people driving behind her were heading
                    up to the forest for a barbecue.
                    
``Did they not see the fire in
                    front of them?'' said Plair-Wears, commander of law
                    enforcement and investigations for four Southern California
                    forests.
                    
``There was a huge column of smoke
                    coming up out of the canyon. I was driving on the same road
                    they were. It was totally oblivious behavior.''
                    
One day later, the entire forest
                    was closed. 
                    
                    
                    
Since then, the U.S. Forest Service
                    has posted signs about the closure at just about every trail
                    and road leading into the forest and stepped up its patrols
                    to catch people sneaking past the signs.
                    
But enforcing the closure is a
                    daunting task for the five law enforcement officers and some
                    20 forest protection officers who patrol all 655,000 acres
                    of the forest.
                    
Hundreds of trails crisscross the
                    foothills, their entrances tucked between houses or
                    branching off roads. Many start in city borders and link up
                    with trails on forest land, like Chaney Trail in Altadena,
                    the trail off Arroyo Boulevard in Pasadena, the Ben
                    Overturff Trail in Monrovia.
                    
The exceptions to the rule
                    complicate the closure. Pockets of private land dot the
                    forest, which the Forest Service has no say over. People can
                    drive up the highways and stop at a private business, such
                    as Newcomb's Ranch or Williams Camp, but not alongside the
                    road on forest land.
                    
Plenty of people who frequent the
                    forest are upset about the strict closure. The forest has
                    been partially closed several times in the past because of
                    fire danger, but rarely the entire forest and rarely for so
                    long. The forest is not expected to reopen until at least
                    two inches of rain falls.
                    
``Am I the only one who thinks this
                    falls under the definition of Draconian?'' asked Duarte
                    resident Brooks Pangburn in a letter to the editor. ``I can
                    understand the need to keep people away from the burned
                    areas as crews mop up, mudslide potential is assessed and
                    remaining structures are secured. But nothing can justify
                    keeping the public out of areas far away from the burns.''
                    
But after two major wildfires
                    destroyed more than 58,000 acres off Highway 39 in just over
                    a month, the Forest Service is not taking any chances, Plair-Wears
                    said.
                    
``This is to educate everyone as to
                    the extreme fire danger, not to strong-arm people off public
                    land,'' Plair-Wears said. ``Most use the forest wisely and
                    responsibly. Those are the ones the closure really hurts.''
                    
So they patrol.
                    
On this day, Plair-Wears is
                    patrolling Highway 39 and East Fork Road, surveying the
                    blackened and barren landscape, where the canyon floor was
                    once invisible for all the trees.
                    
As she drives along the lonely
                    roads, she confronts two sets of violators, a Long Beach
                    couple watching a helicopter from the side of the road and a
                    pair of Mormons gazing at the reservoir from a turnout.
                    
In both cases, Plair-Wears is
                    friendly but firm. Did you see the signs saying the forest
                    is closed?
                    
They plead ignorance, and she
                    proceeds to tell them about the extreme fire danger, which
                    already charred 58,000 acres of wilderness.
                    
``Can we take one last picture?''
                    asks Elder Gunning, a Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day
                    Saints pamphlet poking out of his front shirt pocket. He and
                    Elder Little chat with Plair-Wears a bit, before leaving.
                    
To date, Plair-Wears has not yet
                    issued a citation for sneaking into the forest. Most of the
                    time, the violators leave without a fuss. But sometimes they
                    get stubborn.
                    
One family was throwing rocks off a
                    turnout when Plair-Wears told them about the closure and
                    asked them to move along. They got in the car, flipped a
                    U-turn and parked on the other side of the road.
                    
``I was thinking, `You need to go
                    back down the road and not stop until you get to the
                    city,''' Plair-Wears said. ``Eventually they got tired of me
                    driving behind them.''
                    
Then there are those who simply go
                    too far. Several weekends ago, some campers broke into
                    Buckhorn campground, lit a big campfire and refused to leave
                    when confronted by an officer. They were one of an estimated
                    50 to earn a citation, which carries a maximum fine of
                    $5,000, said Greg Meece, patrol captain for the Angeles
                    National Forest.
                    
In some cases, signs warning about
                    the closure are posted at trail entrances still on city
                    land, when the forest border is actually farther up, a
                    source of frustration for some residents.
                    
Although attorney Paul Ayers backs
                    the forest closure, he objects to the Forest Service posting
                    closure signs at Rubio Trail, which is private land for
                    about a mile before it hits forest land. With the closure in
                    effect, he said people need every bit of wilderness they can
                    get.
                    
``Here, people have two birth
                    rights … to swim in the Pacific Ocean and to walk in the
                    Angeles National Forest,'' Ayers said. ``Imagine going out
                    to surf and there's a fence at the edge of the water. People
                    are having a hard time with it.''
                    
But more than saving wildlife, the
                    goal is saving people, Plair-Wears said.
                    
Wildfires can flare up without
                    warning, leaving little time for people to escape, Plair-Wears
                    said. The danger is heightened by the millions of visitors
                    who flock to the forest each year and the thousands of
                    residents living right up against its borders.
                    
So during Labor Day weekend, when
                    the Curve Fire ignited, the challenge was to evacuate an
                    estimated 10,000 people as walls of fire burned through the
                    canyon.
                    
``There is no way of finding you,
                    no way of telling you where to go. I would not want to be up
                    there in back country and see smoke. Smoke tells you nothing
                    about where the fire is,'' Plair-Wears said. ``It's about
                    being able to protect people.''
                    
-- Lisa Faught can be reached at
                    (626) 578-6300, Ext. 4496, or by e-mail at lisa.faught@sgvn.com.