Left to burn: how federal cuts are abandoning rural America's wildfire defenses

My memory of leaving Sonoma County for San Francisco includes a period of about four years where California wildfires progressively escalated in severity, oftentimes blanketing the city in smoke. In 2017, that included ducking inside to avoid breathing in the ashes of the town where I went to high school. It culminated in 2020 with the North Complex Fire causing the orange, alien sky that enveloped San Francisco. That fire was caused by a freak "lightning siege" attributable to climate change.  

My friend took this photo outside her apartment in September, 2020.
(c) Rose Barry, 2020

The Palisades Fire early last year should have emphasized the apocalyptic urgency of addressing wildfire dangers in California and beyond. But in the name of limiting "waste and abuse" the Trump administration ignored this urgency and instead proceeded to cut federal funding to fight fires in rural America. 

The Cuts 

Like the rest of the Trump administration's 2025 efforts, these cuts are as chaotic as they are dramatic, attacking wildfire prevention and response from multiple angles. 

First, the administration cut 10% of workers at the Forest Service. The Forest Service manages Federal land, and many of their responsibilities include fire prevention and firefighting. Fewer workers means fewer people clearing the brush and fewer people trained to fight fires. This puts California in a precarious position, with the Federal government managing 57% of forests in the state. Nevada is arguably in even worse shape, with 86% of their land being federally managed. 

Critics of the policy include members of the previous Trump administration. Former Forest Service chief Vickie Christiansen posits that the policies amount to "$40 million saved now for $4 billion in wildfire expense" later. Ryan Zinke, Trump's former Secretary of the Interior, says that the cuts shift the question of hiring from "'are we paying them enough” (to) “are we even going to have the bodies?'"

Firefighters from Stockton, CA putting out a fire off Hidden Valley Road. 
Source: Creative Commons, 2013.

The administration has also merged disparate firefighting groups from the Department of Agriculture and the Department of the Interior into a single U.S. Wildlife Fire Service. While there have been proposals to this effect in the past, they were previously rejected due to a 2008 Congressional report finding this consolidation had significant drawbacks. The consolidation shifts the focus away from fire prevention and towards suppression. The Forest Service ideally fights fire through its land management duties, and separating the two functions increases the risk of catastrophic fires that cannot be adequately suppressed. 

Despite some of the most high stakes firefighting occurring in rural spaces (especially in California), rural firefighters are often volunteers. As a previous post on this blog puts it, "volunteer firefighting is a rural issue." California has 200 volunteer fire departments, with many rural spaces completely lacking professional firefighters. Communities often fund these departments partially through local fundraisers. As people leave these communities, staffing these departments becomes even more difficult. Willow Creek in Humboldt County finds their department shrinking as calls increase.  Cuts to the Forest Service means these towns already lacking in resources have even less ability to serve their community even as the fire season grows ever larger. 

Volunteer Fire Station in Occidental, CA. 
(c) Lisa R. Pruitt 2025.

 States and localities have also suffered from the suspension of FEMA Building Resilient Infrastructure and Communities (BRIC) grants in 2025, with a lawsuit forcing the resumption of grants only last year. A massive backlog has resulted, with two years worth of applicants applying for one year of grant funding. This affects infrastructure for fire prevention as well as other disasters. 

This backlog disproportionately affects rural towns. Larger municipalities frequently have full-time grant-writers, where small towns often rely on a thin secretarial support staff, if that. These towns have no ability to fund their own improvements, with necessary infrastructure often costing several times the town's budget. 

The Response 

California moved relatively swiftly to counter the Forest Service cuts, deploying $72 million in Cal FIRE grants to "rake the forest" and fast track critical fire prevention projects. While certainly helpful, the State can only work with the 3% of forest land it manages directly and must work with private landowners who own the other 40% of the land. With a majority of the land in California under Federal management, this effort is limited. 

Utah also increased their wildfire funding by $150 million and joined the Great Plains Interstate Fire Compact. The compact enables coordination and resource sharing with other western states to fight wildfires and prevent wildfires. While this likely won't make up for the gap left by the federal government, this more coordinated local effort is cause for optimism. 

The Department of the Interior also announced a $20 million grant to equip "small, remote emergency response agencies with practical, deployable tools," i.e. modern water tanker trucks. While not unwelcome, this targeted funding does not make up for the larger structural damage done by the Trump administration. 

Notably, none of these responses make efforts to alleviate the specific burdens on rural communities. They simply attempt to fill in the gaps left by the federal government's retreat, failing to address the prior inequities. 

Conclusion  

On our current trajectory I find it difficult to be optimistic about anything involving climate change. As a Californian, there are few things that seem more immediately pressing than addressing the increasing severity of wildfires. The current administration's efforts harm everyone by failing to address these systemic issues, and rural communities will bear the brunt of the impact. 

Burning down the house: California’s fire insurance crisis

California residents have become accustomed to historically large wildfires occurring at an astonishing pace, with eight of the ten largest fires ever recorded in California occurring in the last 10 years. The increasing frequency and destructiveness of wildfires has strained fire insurance systems to a near breaking point, and rural communities are often the most impacted by both wildfires and rising insurance costs.

Fire danger sign on scorched ground outside Klamath. Image source: National Interagency Fire Center

A primer on California’s FAIR Plan

California’s FAIR Plan, commonly referred to as the “insurer of last resort,” was created by the California Legislature in 1968 to act as a temporary safety net for homeowners who were unable to find home insurance from regular providers. Unlike a typical home insurance plan, the FAIR Plan only covers fire damage to structures, not household goods or personal liability. Contrary to public perception, the FAIR Plan is not a state funded insurer. The FAIR Plan is instead a state managed insurance pool comprised of all private insurers licensed to conduct business in California.

When FAIR Plan premiums fail to cover their exposure, the California Insurance Commissioner may levy assessments of up to a total of $1 billion per year (gross, not per insurer) against private insurers based on the market share of these insurers. Ostensibly, private insurers are not permitted to pass the costs of these assessments along to their ratepayers without approval from the Insurance Commissioner.

Trends in FAIR Plan usage

FAIR Plan usage has grown significantly in recent years. In 2009, only 7% of California ZIP codes had FAIR Plan policies that accounted for more than 10% of policies in that ZIP code. By 2022, this was true of 22% of California ZIP codes. FAIR Plan usage tends to be much higher in rural areas, as demonstrated by the below map, published by Avery Bick and Nam Nguyen in this post.



To select a few extreme examples from this map, one ZIP code located in Placer County where the largest community, Foresthill, has a population of 1692, has a FAIR Plan rate of 69.625%. Another ZIP code in Orange county has a FAIR Plan rate of 79.67%, and their largest community, Silverado, has a population of only 932.

While the FAIR Plan was not intended to insure such a large proportion of California’s residents, the reason why that trend is unfolding is quite clear: private insurers are fleeing the state as fast as they can. State Farm (still the largest insurer in California) and Allstate stopped writing new homeowner fire policies in 2022. A series of other large insurers left the state in the following years, with Nationwide, Farmers, Travelers, Tokio, and American National all ceasing to write new policies from 2023-2025.

As FAIR Plan usage has expanded, premiums for FAIR Plan policies have also increased significantly, with some consumers seeing rate increases (rarely) as high as 300% in a single year. While the average FAIR Plan policy costs around $3,200 per year, it is common for policies to cost more than $10,000 per year in high fire risk areas.

Why has rural California been hit so hard by the insurance crisis?

The reason that this crisis has hit rural California particularly hard is relatively intuitive. As phrased by Prof. Minnich of UC Riverside, “People want to live with nature, but they don’t recognize that nature is explosively flammable.”

Housing in wildland urban interface (WUI) areas is much more prone to fire damage. Defined commonly as an area where urban development mingles with undeveloped wildland vegetation, WUI overlaps significantly with areas typically considered rural, but it may also include development on the outskirts of urban centers.

Residential development in WUI is the fastest growing land use type in the United States, with the number of houses in WUI increasing by 46% from 1990 to 2020. California has seen the greatest increase of houses in WUI, with one third of California households in WUI as of 2020. Note the striking resemblance that the below map of change in WUI in California, published by Prof. Miriam Greenberg in this article, bears to the above map of FAIR Plan coverage rates.



The increasing number of houses in high fire risk areas coupled with more frequent and destructive fires have proved a hurdle that insurers are often unable to clear without substantial premium increases.

The future of the FAIR Plan

Increased reliance on the FAIR Plan, along with massive exposure from the Palisades and Eaton fires has led Insurance Commissioner Ricardo Lara to levy the first assessment against FAIR Plan member companies since 1994. The assessment is for the full $1 billion allowed. 

Additionally, Commissioner Lara mandated the use of wildfire catastrophe models in FAIR Plan's most recent rate increase application. The rate increase currently proposed would average a 35.8% increase, with about half of policyholders seeing an increase between 40% and 50%.

In addition to these efforts by the Department of Insurance, a variety of legislative measures have been passed or proposed to address California's insurance crisis. One of the most notable among these is Assemblymember Lisa Calderon's (D, 56th District) AB 1680, which seeks to overhaul the FAIR Plan in a number of ways, perhaps most significantly by extending FAIR Plan coverage to water damage, personal injury liability, and other coverages typical of standard home insurance policies. 

Conclusions

These and other measures taken by California in response to the Palisades and Eaton fire make clear that policymakers know action is needed, but there is little doubt that they are inadequate. While efforts to mitigate the costs to FAIR Plan policyholders are important, California's insurance crisis is inherent in our homebuilding choices and lack of adequate wildfire hardening. As previous blog posts have noted, wildfire prevention efforts in rural areas of California are severely underfunded. Without serious efforts to mitigate wildfire risk, California is unlikely to halt the exodus of private insurers. 

That which sets rural search-and-rescue apart from the urban counterpart

The New York Times reports today from Kerrville, Texas, more than a week after last week's tragic flood.  This story pays attention to how the search and rescue along the Guadalupe River in the "hill country" is different from these processes when they occur in urban areas.  Christopher Maag and Edgar Sandoval write: 

The search for human remains is focused on an area of Texas that is unlike many of the places where recovery professionals are accustomed to looking, several experts said. Most major search operations in recent years have happened in large urban areas hit by hurricanes, said Mr. Koester and Scott Hammond, a professor in the Department of Management at Utah State University who studies search-and-rescue teams.

In the flood plain of Central Texas, by comparison, searchers are dealing with a relatively high number of people who are missing and presumed dead, spread across an expanse of mostly narrow, rural territory, spanning more than a hundred miles of shallow valleys along the river.

* * *

The destructive power arrived with little notice, in a relatively constrained river valley where there are few homes or other buildings to serve as likely search targets. The recovery efforts are therefore focused on the massive piles of debris.

That will continue to make the search especially slow, dangerous, painstaking and long.

Also reflecting this theme, NPR's report this morning observed that the "search area has an enormous footprint." 

Here is a quote in the NYT story from 38-year-old Kerrville resident, Amy Vanlandingham, who has been helping with the search.  Her comment suggests the nature of rural community and lack of anonymity, which fosters a certain solidarity:

It’s overwhelming to see so many people come and help in the search. This is our town. I do it so I can sleep.

Other posts about the Guadalupe River floods are here and here.   

Small-town government run amok (Part XIII): Is Kerr County partly to blame for the high death toll at Camp Mystic?

I've already written this week about the catastrophic flooding in Kerr County, Texas.  What I am going to highlight in this post is recent reporting from the New York Times on the 2019 decision by Kerr County to let Camp Mystic build additional structures--including cabins for campers--in places that were at risk of  flooding.  (This is on top of the county's decision not to invest in a warning system, which is discussed in my prior post).

Why would the county do that when, as one expert suggested, the proposal to construct more buildings was a good time to re-evaluate the risk level associated with the existing structures?  Perhaps what the journalists are suggesting here is Kerr County officials simply trusted the camp as a long-time landowner and patron of the county.  Perhaps what is being suggested is the turning of a blind eye.  I wonder what sort of property taxes and other types of revenues Mystic and the otter camps provided to the county? 

Here's an excerpt from the NYT story: 

In 2019, Camp Mystic...underwent a substantial expansion. Camp owners received approval from local authorities to build a new group of cabins over the hillside to the south, in an area known as Cypress Lake. But even there, flood maps show, some of the new cabins were in areas at risk of flooding.

* * *  

At the same time, Kerr County officials were considering how to manage floodway areas, including those at Camp Mystic.

The county said that floodways were to be considered “an extremely hazardous area due to the velocity of floodwaters which carry debris, potential projectiles and erosion potential.” It adopted rules in 2020 to limit new construction or substantial alterations in floodways to ensure that structures could better survive flood events, and that these buildings would not result in raising floodwater levels in other parts of the river.

This NYTimes piece gives a sense of the local lore around the Eastlands, who owned and ran Camp Mystic.  This New York Times podcast, The Daily, also gives a sense of the beloved status of the camp and its long-time owners; the title says it all, "A Love Letter to Camp Mystic."   

Postscript:  Here is a July 12, 2025 NYT story that suggests FEMA over-rode Kerr County on the designation of parts of Camp Mystic as a flood zone.  An excerpt from Mike Baker's reporting follows: 

In the years before floodwaters killed more than two dozen people at Camp Mystic in Texas, regulators approved a series of appeals that removed many of the camp’s buildings from official federal flood zones, records show.

Flood maps developed by the Federal Emergency Management Agency in 2011 had placed much of the camp within a 100-year flood zone, an area considered to be at high risk of flooding. Camp Mystic successfully challenged those designations, which would limit renovation projects and require flood insurance, citing elevation calculations of a series of buildings that allowed them to be exempted from the federal restrictions.

Sarah Pralle, an associate professor at Syracuse University who has researched federal flood mapping, said she found the exemptions granted to Camp Mystic, a girls’ camp on the Guadalupe River near Hunt, to be “perplexing.” Some of the buildings were still very close to expected flood elevations, she said.

“I think it’s extremely troubling that it’s a camp for children,” Ms. Pralle said. “You’d think you want to be extra cautious — that you’d go beyond the minimum of what’s required for flood protection.”

Here is the Washington Post reporting similar conclusions on the role of FEMA.  

Here is the WSJ reporting on what happened at Camp Mystic, cabin by cabin.   You'll see here featured some aspects of the impulse to secrecy regarding arguable failures of a revered Texas institution.  

This excellent episode of New York Times "The Daily" on July 15, 2025, asks if the floods had to be as deadly as they were.  It includes some attention to the rural context. 

Deficits in warning systems exacerbate losses as historic floods strike Texas rural hill country

Dozens, including a number of children, were killed on July 4 by a flash flood in central Texas' hill country, primarily due to flooding of the Guadalupe River, whose headwaters are there.  One hard hit area was Camp Mystic, a camp for young and adolescent girls on the river's banks, near Kerrville (population 24,000) in rural Kerr County.  Christopher Flavelle of the New York Times is now reporting on the consequences of the area not having a better early-warning system--and on the fact that local taxpayers are unwilling to pay for that system. Here are salient excerpts: 

Texas officials appeared to blame the Weather Service for issuing forecasts on Wednesday that underestimated how much rain was coming. But former Weather Service officials said the forecasts were as good as could be expected, given the enormous levels of rainfall and the storm’s unusually abrupt escalation.

The staffing shortages suggested a separate problem, those former officials said — the loss of experienced people who would typically have helped communicate with local authorities in the hours after flash flood warnings were issued overnight.

The shortages are among the factors likely to be scrutinized as the death toll climbs from the floods. Separate questions have emerged about the preparedness of local communities, including Kerr County’s apparent lack of a local flood warning system. 

* * * 

In an interview, Rob Kelly, the Kerr County judge and its most senior elected official, said the county did not have a warning system because such systems are expensive, and local residents are resistant to new spending.

“Taxpayers won’t pay for it,” Mr. Kelly said. Asked if people might reconsider in light of the catastrophe, he said, “I don’t know.”  (emphasis added)

The National Weather Service’s San Angelo office, which is responsible for some of the areas hit hardest by Friday’s flooding, was missing a senior hydrologist, staff forecaster and meteorologist in charge.

* * * 

The Weather Service’s nearby San Antonio office, which covers other areas hit by the floods, also had significant vacancies, including a warning coordination meteorologist and science officer, Mr. Fahy said. Staff members in those positions are meant to work with local emergency managers to plan for floods, including when and how to warn local residents and help them evacuate.

That office’s warning coordination meteorologist left on April 30, after taking the early retirement package the Trump administration used to reduce the number of federal employees, according to a person with knowledge of his departure.

The vacancy rate in these federal offices is roughly twice what it was when Trump returned to office earlier this year.

Other posts about rural local governments unwilling to pay for services some might find critical--or at least important--are here and here.   This post discusses how reliant nonmetro counties and rural local governments are on higher scales of government for assistance in financing emergency management.   

Postcript:  This follow up story in the New York Times was published later on July 6, 2025.  

Eight years ago, in the aftermath of yet another river flood in the Texas Hill Country, officials in Kerr County debated whether more needed to be done to build a warning system along the banks of the Guadalupe River.

A series of summer camps along the river were often packed with children. For years, local officials kept them safe with a word-of-mouth system: When floodwaters started raging, upriver camp leaders warned those downriver of the water surge coming their way.

But was that enough? Officials considered supplementing the system with sirens and river gauges, along with other modern communications tools. “We can do all the water-level monitoring we want, but if we don’t get that information to the public in a timely way, then this whole thing is not worth it,” said Tom Moser, a Kerr County commissioner at the time.

In the end, little was done.

And here is coverage of the issue from the Wall Street Journal. 

A former sheriff pushed Kerr County commissioners nearly a decade ago to adopt a more robust flood-warning system, telling government officials how he “spent hours in those helicopters pulling kids out of trees here (in) our summer camps,” according to meeting records.

Then-Sheriff Rusty Hierholzer was a proponent of outdoor sirens, having responded as a deputy to the 1987 floods that killed 10 teenagers at a camp in nearby Kendall County. He made the comments in 2016, after deadly floods ravaged a different part of Texas the year before.

“We were trying to think of, what can we do to make sure that never happens here?” Hierholzer, who served as Kerr County sheriff from 2000 to 2020, recalled in an interview Sunday with The Wall Street Journal. “And that’s why we were looking at everything that we could come up with, whether it be sirens, whether it be any other systems that we could.”

"Minutes of their public meetings showed an inability to get state and federal funds has been a delaying factor," even as other counties on the Guadalupe River have adopted the systems.

P.P.S.  On July 7, Texas Lt. Governor Dan Patrick announced that a warning system would be in place on the Guadalupe River by next summer and that, if the local government cannot afford the system, the state will pay for it.  

P.P.S. on July 11, the Washington Post reports under the headline, "Kerr County did not use its most far-reaching alert system in deadly Texas floods."   The lede follows: 

The Texas county where nearly 100 people were killed and more than 160 remain missing had the technology to turn every cellphone in the river valley into a blaring alarm, but local officials did not do so before or during the early-morning hours of July 4 as river levels rose to record heights, inundating campsites and homes, a Washington Post examination found.

 On July 10, I was listening to a podcast (probably from New York Times or NPR) that mentioned a local Kerr County politician who, a decade ago, railed against an alarm system along the river because of its deleterious impact on the place's tranquility.   The politician got his way, and the system was nixed.  He died a few years ago.  

From Congresswoman Gluesenkamp Perez on public media

I've written often on this blog of Congresswoman Gluesenkamp Perez's campaigns and stances; she represents WA-03 in the southwest corner of Washington, a district with a great deal of rural area.  I was struck by fundraising email I got from her today (I get a lot of them!) because it stands up for public broadcasting while invoking the rurality of her district.  Here's what the email says:  

Last week, I voted against a hyperpartisan package that guts federal funding for nonpartisan, independent public broadcasting, a critical resource that rural communities like ours rely on every day.

The House Majority’s plan will force public radio and television stations across the country to close, including 14 here in Washington. We depend on public broadcasting for so much: quality local journalism, educational children’s programming, and even lifesaving emergency alerts.

Lisa, I’m all for tackling waste and making sure our tax dollars are used efficiently, but that doesn’t mean compromising our safety, health, or general well-being.

I’ll continue calling out D.C.’s misplaced priorities and getting things done for Southwest Washington – but to keep this work going, I need your help defending this seat.

I'm glad that the Congresswoman sees public broadcasting as a critical resource for rural communities.  I do, too.  I am guessing many of her constituents see public media as hyper-partisan, and not in ways favorable to their interests. 

In fact, NPR does a great deal of fine reporting--nuanced reporting--on a wide range of rural issues.  I trust NPR to deliver the facts, and I listen to it everyday.  That said, there are times when I think NPR has been  unhelpfully woke in ways I suspect alienate rural voters and those with less formal education.  

Ndala and Cyclone Freddy: the harsh reality of climate change

On March 13, 2023, Ndala, a village in northeastern Mozambique, was almost entirely submerged in water. Heavy rains caused the river running through the village to overflow. The torrent of water and rocks cleared everything in its path: houses and people inside them, roads, bridges, livestock, and vehicles. The cause of these tragic events was Cyclone Freddy, the longest tropical cyclone on record. Two years later, Ndala still faces the effects of the storm. The population endures isolation, illness, and deepening poverty. The cyclone injured many, tore families apart, and destroyed livelihoods. 

 

The people most affected by extreme weather, particularly in places like Mozambique and across Africa, are often the least responsible for the climate crisis. Those affected live in communities with the least resources to adapt to climate disasters such as Cyclone Freddy. As a result, these countries and population pay the heaviest price for climate change with their lives. 

 

This vulnerability is not unique to Mozambique. In his blog post “Rural vulnerabilities in a changing climate”, Ryan Chen highlighted how rural areas with weak infrastructure are the most vulnerable to the effects of climate change. He cites Texas’ Rio Grande Valley, where drought is worsening due to it. Similarly, Ndala also lacks infrastructure and has trouble dealing with flooding. 

 

The increased frequency of floods and droughts directly impacts agriculture, threatening crop yields and livestock, primary sources of income sustenance for many rural communities in Mozambique. The cost of adapting to these drastic changes strains already limited financial resources of rural communities.

Malawi, a neighboring country of Mozambique, was also impacted by Cyclone Freddy. Recognizing the previous challenges, the International Fund for Agricultural Development (IFAD) and the government of Malawi launched a US$53 million agricultural development program in 2023. The initiative aims to commercialize agriculture, enhance small-scale farming resilience, and improve food security and nutrition across the country. As part of this effort, the seven-year Sustainable Agriculture Production program will equip farmers with the skills and resources needed to combat food insecurity, increase income, and improve rural livelihoods. In addition, the program allows funds to be reallocated to address immediate needs such as repairs to infrastructure that was damaged or destroyed by climate disasters. 

Nevertheless, while the IFAD has been actively involved in improving food security and resilient livelihoods for rural transformation in Mozambique, it didn't provide direct assistance to the country following Cyclone Freddy.

 

Climate disasters often lead to migration. Cyclone Freddy left thousands in Mozambique without homes, forcing them to migrate in search of safety and stability. However, under international law, these people do not qualify as refugees because their displacement is climate-related rather than a result of persecution based on race, religion, nationality, political opinion, or social group, as defined by article 1 of the Geneva Convention. 

Climate-displaced individuals are classified as internally displaced persons (IDPs) if they remain in their country or migrants if they cross borders. Under the Geneva Convention, refugees are entitled to the right to seek asylum, non-refoulement (not being sent back to danger), access to healthcare, education, and work in host countries, unlike IDPs and migrants.

 

This legal gap has sparked an ongoing debate about the legal recognition of “climate refugees”. The UNHCR (United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees) advocates for the expanded definition of refugees to include those displaced by climate change. However, many countries that ratified the Geneva Convention oppose this change, fearing it would increase migration and legal obligations. Amnesty International argues that concerns over mass migration are overblown. Instead, the organization emphasizes the need for humanitarian assistance, as climate change continues to displace communities worldwide. 

 

The case of Cyclone Freddy and Ndala underscores the growing urgency of this debate. Moving forward, the international community can no longer afford to ignore the impact of climate change on rural communities. Without action, climate migrants will remain trapped in legal limbo, denied the protections they desperately need.

Rural areas need wildfire prevention funding, but who provides the funding?

The risk of wildfire is growing across the United States. Political battles continue over wildfire resources, such as whether Cal Fire resources were adequately allocated to fight the catastrophic Los Angeles wildfires. As the risk of wildfire grows, the cost of prevention efforts also grows. The question of who pays for these expensive wildfire prevention efforts has not yet been answered.

Rural communities almost always need additional state or federal funding to facilitate wildfire prevention projects. For example, the state of Colorado and its rural populations are prone to catastrophic wildfire events. At the same time, the Colorado legislature is looking “to cut nearly $1 billion in state spending this session.”

This drastic cut in budgeting is concerning to Colorado representatives who represent rural areas with high wildfire risk. Many legislators, like Rep. Elizabeth Velasco, D-Glenwood Springs, are concerned that “budget shortfall could impact wildfire mitigation efforts that they say are becoming more needed — and expensive.”

Velasco is sponsoring House Bill 1078 to address the concerns of the rural communities she represents. House Bill 1078 would create a “workforce of foresters and firefighters with grants for certifications, training initiatives, and an outreach campaign to promote job opportunities.” These foresters and firefighters are crucial to getting wildfire prevention projects off the ground and the funding would come directly from the state. Currently, there are not enough foresters and firefighters to help manage the millions of forested lands in the United States.

However, the Colorado Legislature may not want to spend an additional $3 million on House Bill 1078. Supporters of House Bill 1078 are concerned as party leaders are only supporting bills that have a $0 price tag. Wildfire prevention projects are expensive, but rural communities, like those that Velasco represents, desperately need state funding, and the people to advance such projects.

Rural communities in Colorado are already facing extreme wildfire risk. With recent trends in the number of wildfires across the United States, it's not a question of if Colorado will experience a catastrophic wildfire, but it's a question of when.

In another state facing the same wildfire issues, federal money is going to citizen-led nonprofit groups to help mitigate wildfire risk. Citizens in the state of Oregon have formed nonprofit groups, like the Lomakatsi Restoration Project. Based in Ashland, Oregon, the Lomakatsi Restoration Project sends crews out into the mountains with chainsaws and other equipment to clear underbrush and ladder fuels. The crews have one goal, to “protect the valley from wildfire.”

The Lomakastsi Restoration Project traces its roots back to Hoedads Inc., which is commonly referred to as simply “the Hoedads.” The Hoedads was a large worker cooperative that began in the 1970s and planted trees following logging operations across the Pacific Northwest. The Hoedad's numbers grew and they were “eventually performing a good portion of tree planting in the country, getting millions in federal contracts with hundreds of workers organized into crews.”

Slowly, the Hoedads began to die out as private companies took over. Private logging companies hired cheap migrant labor and the Hoedads couldn’t compete. By the mid-1990’s the Hoedad project was over.

Although there are no more official Hoedad groups, the Lomakastsi Restoration Project is “carrying the torch.” The Lomakastsi Restoration Project receives federal funding but instead of planting trees, they focus on wildfire prevention by removing brush and other high-hazard fuels.

Federal and state funding allows rural communities to implement wildfire prevention projects. Clearing brush and creating fuel breaks is expensive and needs to be done on millions of acres. Over the next decade, the National Forest Service plans to manage 20 million acres in an effort to reduce the severity of wildfires.

Without funding, rural communities across the nation will continue to live in fear of the next catastrophic wildfire event. The destructive power of wildfires continues to grow with climate change. Hopefully, in the coming months, federal and state governments allocate more funding to wildfire prevention projects before fire season returns.

Pitting of rural against urban in relation to Los Angeles fires

The Los Angeles Times is reporting this morning that Cal Fire sent resources to rural California, prioritizing the state's remote reaches over the area destroyed in the Palisades fire.  Here's the lede for Connor Sheets' story: 

Since 2021, state authorities have repeatedly declined to fund wildfire prevention efforts in communities devastated by the Palisades fire, according to Cal Fire records, which show the agency instead poured money into projects in far-flung rural areas.

Records reviewed by The Times show Cal Fire elected not to fund more than $3.8 million in Wildfire Prevention Grants for Santa Monica Mountains communities including Pacific Palisades and Malibu over the last four years.

Meanwhile, many other projects in areas sometimes deemed by the state to be at lower wildfire risk received most or all of the amounts they requested — and in some instances even more. The sums, often in the millions of dollars, were allocated for a range of projects and tasks, including clearing brush with goats and distributing informational mailers.

* * * 

A Cal Fire spokesperson said a total of $17.8 million has been granted for 33 Wildfire Prevention Projects in L.A. County since the 2020-21 fiscal year, with nearly 125 acres of land within five miles of the Palisades fire “treated” with brush removal and other fuel reduction efforts over the last four years.

* * * 

Cal Fire declined to grant some of the funding the council requested because the initial proposal “included ‘home hardening’ — which is funded by an alternate grant program.”

For comparison sake, Sheets includes this information:

Meanwhile, also in August, Cal Fire awarded the Shasta Valley Resource Conservation District $86,000 more than the $1.7 million it had requested to “mechanically remove trees” on 682 acres outside the city of Yreka. Home to fewer than 8,000 people near Mt. Shasta, the surrounding area has seen large fires in recent years.

As part of the same grant program, the state agency in August awarded nearly $300,000 more than the $1.78 million Mariposa County — which has a population of around 20,000 — requested to manage vegetation along county-maintained roadways.

I'm sure we'll be hearing more about this in the coming days, but for now I'll just express regret over this pitting of rural versus urban.  I also wonder about the extent to which places like Los Angeles are seen as a lower priority because of their more robust metro fire departments.  I also note that the fires now raging in Los Angeles County have been characterized by FEMA not as wildfires, but as conflagrations fueled by structures.   That said, I believe these fires are thought to have been ignited in brush or woodlands that are part of the Santa Monica Mountains. 

Australian state proposes student debt relief for lawyers willing to practice in rural places

"Bold new plan to get more lawyers to go to the bush," is the headline for this radio story by the Australian Broadcasting Corporation last week.  That "bold" plan involves helping lawyers pay their student loans if they're practicing in a rural, remote or regional area of Australia.  

Here's the promotional blurb: 

There's a dire shortage of lawyers in regional Australia and it's having devastating impacts on people’s everyday lives. One group is proposing a bold plan to try and entice lawyers to ditch the city and go bush. Brett McGrath is President of the Law Society of New South Wales and he tells ABC Newsradio’s Tom Oriti about how waiving student debt could make a big difference.

Here's a compelling excerpt from the interview, after the interviewee, Brett McGrath, notes the disparity between what solicitors can earn in the city and in the country: 

We have some solicitors in rural and regional New South Wales who are paying admin assistants more than they're paying themselves because they're trying to meet overheads week to week, and we are the most heavily regulated profession in the country.  We have ethical obligations.  We have reporting requirements.  And most [solicitors] are employing people.  They're employers so they have to go through workplace employment legislation.  They have all these obligations so they're really struggling to make  ends meet. ... 

I'm the President of the Law Society.  It took me seven years working full time in southwest Sydney and working as a lecturer at a university--so working a second job--it took me seven years to pay off A$40,000 in Hecs.  So you can imagine... A$70,000 is the average now... so with cost of living pressures and rental and all those sort of things... it's a big problem and that's why we think this is a solution that can address that need, particularly for rural and regional areas and make it really attractive for solicitors to come and set their practices up.  

Interviewer:  

If you're a lawyer who will go to the regions to help ease that shortage you'll get your HECS-help fees waived, and if you've already made contributions, they're refunded.  Is that right? 

McGrath:

So, it has its anchor point from the Commonwealth's own review into legal assistance which called for having solicitors who moved to rural, regional and remote areas as a baseline having 45% of their work legal aid work or they work for a Community Legal Centre ... We say that should be a baseline.  We think at the Law Society of New South Wales that should be taken to the next level because of what we're seeing on the ground in rural and regional areas of New South Wales but also across the country that it should be extended to anyone who wants to move to set their practice up and start their careers in regional areas should have their hex waived.  

There are similar schemes to attract teachers, to attract doctors and nurses to regional areas.... We see law and access to justice as a critical part of our infrastructure and services we provide.  

Lismore (New South Wales) is a great example where in disaster zones people are in trouble ... they reach out.  Who do they turn to?  They turn to their solicitor when they're in need. 

Interviewer: 

Have you put that [expensive proposal for debt relief] to the government?  Have you had any response? 

McGrath:  

We've suggested that it'll cost about A$6 million in the first year, and that's ... for the base program.  The first port of call is to have those with 45% of their work in legal aid and in Community Legal Centres so that's about A$6 million and we've put that to the federal government and the Law Council of Australia has ... put that forward as a proposal to the commonwealth.  

Interviewer:  

Any Response?  

McGrath:  

We're waiting on a response.  

On rural gentrification, and the ensuing housing shortage, in coastal California

Hailey Branson-Potts reported for the Los Angeles Times a few days ago from Marin County, the famously wealthy county that lies just north of San Francisco, on the north end of the Golden Gate Bridge.  The headline is "Looking to vacation on the California coast?  Marin County just made it harder."  Here are some excerpts particularly relevant to the issue of rural gentrification. 

In Marin County, the explosive growth in short-term rentals has been particularly divisive in smaller towns. There, the number of full-time residents is dwindling while millionaires’ second — and third — homes, many of which are used as seasonal rentals, sit empty much of the year.

That’s a cruel paradox when there are not enough affordable homes for people who work in those communities, proponents of the cap say.

In unincorporated Marin County, the median sales price of a single-family home rose 98% from 2013 to 2021, to $1.91 million, according to a countywide housing plan adopted last year.

The story quotes Sarah Jones, who directs the Marin County Community Development Agency: 

Housing affordability and housing supply were really the driving factor in why we’re addressing short-term rentals right now.  There’s not housing being built. And the housing that’s available, people are just seeing that it’s more profitable and easier to use it as a short-term rental than to rent it out long term.

Branson-Potts' story continues: 

Although Marin County has much open space, it has little room to expand housing. Roughly 85% of its land, including the Point Reyes National Seashore and the Golden Gate National Recreation Area, is public space or agricultural land protected from development.

Marin County Supervisor Dennis Rodoni, who represents the scenic West Marin towns where vacation rentals are most heavily concentrated, said they have transformed “tiny communities where even losing a few homes is a big deal.”  

Rodoni continues: 

Our volunteer fire departments are losing volunteers.  Our schoolteachers, we’re having a hard time locating them in the community; they have to commute long distances.

Read more about this region of California in several posts here.  Posts about Sonoma County, just to the north of Marin, are here, here, and here.  

Politico reports on California's new legislative leaders, both with rural roots, representing rural districts

The headline is "Rural California can finally claim both legislative leaders as its own," and Camille Von Kaenel reports on the topic I took up here.  She does so, however, with the resources of a journalist who has more time to gather details of the symbolic meaning and possible real-world consequences of Robert Rivas' ascension to chair of the California Assembly and Mike McGuire's recent taking the reins of the California Senate.  For the first time since 1969, both of California's legislative leaders are from rural-ish areas.  Indeed, both also rose from modest means.  Rivas is the son of farmworkers in San Benito County, population 64,000, and McGuire was raised by his mother and grandmother, also engaged in agricultural pursuits, in Sonoma County, population 488,000.  His district, however, is quite sparsely populated as it stretches north along the coast to the Oregon state line.   

Some excerpts from the Politico story follow, elaborating on the possible significance of : 

Sen. Mike McGuire’s sprawling North Coast district encompasses some of the state’s most famous redwood forests, salmon fisheries and Sonoma County wineries. Speaker Robert Rivas represents a Central Coast region known as the salad bowl of America and grew up in farmworker housing. They’re both a far cry from their immediate predecessors, Sen. Toni Atkins of San Diego and Assemblymember Anthony Rendon of south-central Los Angeles.

For Chris Lopez, the current chair of the Rural County Representatives of California [RCRC], which includes 40 of California’s 58 counties, the representation alone is powerful.

“When Robert was sworn in as speaker, having a mariachi on that floor playing music spoke to my heart,” said Lopez, who has close ties with the speaker because both came up through San Benito County politics. “It wasn’t just about having a Latino, but having a Latino who grew up rural in farmworker housing.”

The story provides this example of urbanormativity (my word, not the journalist's) in California lawmaking:

RCRC has long sought an exemption from CA SB1383 (15R), former Sen. Ricardo Lara’s 2016 law requiring counties to reduce the amount of organic waste that goes into landfills and decomposes into methane, a potent global warming gas. Lopez argues that remote areas don’t have enough access to composting facilities and is sponsoring Assemblymember Jim Wood’s CA AB2902 (23R), which would indefinitely extend the exemption for rural jurisdictions.

The law is one instance of how cities’ grip on political power has made some of California’s most iconic climate policies not work as well for rural areas, Lopez said.

Here's a direct quote from Lopez:  

Our communities need longer runways, they need a little bit more assistance on the technical advisory side.  I know we have got folks there now who understand that.

Then there's this bit of California history: 

The last time both leaders hailed from rural districts was in 1969, when Democrat Hugh Burns of Fresno County led the Senate and Republican Bob Monagan of San Joaquin County led the Assembly, according to Alex Vassar, California State Library communications manager. The most recent rural Assembly speaker was Cruz Bustamante, a moderate Fresno Democrat who led the Assembly from 1996 to 1998 before becoming lieutenant governor.

In California, rural areas tend to elect Republicans.  That has limited these regions' political influence in a state where Democrats enjoy a super majority.  

McGuire has made wildfire preparedness a priority, and has outlined the most detailed plan of any lawmaker to right the state’s troubled property insurance industry after catastrophic losses, some to fires in his district.

* * *

Rivas, for his part, is one of the Legislature’s biggest champions of the potential climate benefits of landscapes like farms and forests to absorb carbon. He co-authored a bill in 2022 requiring the state to set first-in-the-nation emissions targets for natural and working lands.

For more on many of these same themes, read my post about last week's Public Policy Institute of California's "Spotlight on Rural California." 

The return of California's phantom lake: hubris and hostility as Tulare Lake floods the San Joaquin Valley

More than six months after the historic flooding that threatened the city of Corcoran and inundated farming communities in the lower San Joaquin Valley, Tulare Lake remains. Spurred on by massive precipitation during California’s atmospheric river last winter and unusually deep snowpacks high in the Sierras, Tulare Lake returned for the first time in decades.

Tulare Lake used to be the largest freshwater lake in the West. Fed by the Kaweah, Kern, Kings, and Tule rivers, it covered an area of 690 miles at its peak. As California’s Anglo-American settlers laid down roots in the Central Valley, agricultural use, drainage projects, and new dams emptied the lake. A complex series of levees, dams, and earthworks made the empty lakebed one of the most engineered landscapes of the early 20^th century.

The area is now a thriving agricultural hotspot. Tulare County produced $7.5 billion worth of commodities in 2019. Now, many of those farms are underwater. Flooding has caused over $4 billion in damage across the Central Valley. Homes, crops, and shops have all been destroyed. Fertilizer, industrial chemicals, diesel fuel, and rusting machinery have polluted the water.

Tulare Lake has not gone down without a fight. During extremely wet years, it has returned. The lake returned in 1938, 1955, 1969, 1983 and 1997. Because of this pattern of reappearance, some have called Tulare Lake a “zombie lake,” “ghost lake,” or “phantom lake.”

This year is one such year. At the peak of the flooding in March, Tulare Lake covered approximately 120,000 acres – about the size of Lake Tahoe. As a result of dedicated efforts by state and local officials to drain the lake and redirect its water, it covered only 50,000 acres in September.

Tulare Lake will continue to linger. Some scientists and researchers predict that it won’t recede entirely until 2024. And as climate change continues to result in more extreme weather, this won’t be the last time that Lake Tulare returns with a vengeance.

Tensions ran high as livelihoods were swept away. Farmers fought over whose fields should flood first. Some accused agribusiness barons of intentionally redirecting the water to flood their neighbor’s fields. A special meeting of the county’s board of supervisors was filled with outrage and hostility.

These losses are the result of human hubris and greed. Try as we might, we cannot change the landscape entirely. The land is still low, the earth filled with impermeable clay, and the rivers still feed into the valley. The natural conditions that created Lake Tulare still exist, lying in wait with the immortal patience of a world that existed long before men and will continue to exist long after.

For thousands of years, the Yokuts people lived along the shallow shores of Tulare Lake, which they called Pa’ashi. The lake sustained a vibrant ecosystem, with a rhythmic pattern of expansion and regression during the wet and dry seasons that remain the subject of native songs passed down through the generations. While the farmers and county supervisors mourn losses and struggle to combat the flooding, the Yokuts have celebrated the return of their beloved Pa’ashi. The Tachi Yokut Tribe has asked California to let Pa’ashi stay.

California has a tough choice to make. They can continue to build levees and dams and farm the lakebed, betting against nature that their fields won’t be destroyed again. Or California could encourage communities to relocate, mitigate the damage of future floods, and stop interfering in the natural process.

California could rewild Tulare Lake. The term “rewilding” has a long history, going back to the 1990s when conservationists and scholars Michael Soulé and Reed Noss called for an ambitious, continent-wide program of restoring connected wilderness landscapes large enough to support wide-ranging mammals. Rewilding has since grown into a global conservation movement focused on the restoration of self-regulating natural landscapes. Conservationists Carlos Carroll and Reed F. Noss now argue that rewilding can be used as a potential way to reduce the harm of the climate crisis.

It could be worth a shot. California would avoid future flood losses, the Yokuts would have access to their beloved Pa’ashi once more, and the state would be more climate resilient as a whole. Maybe that would be a more desirable outcome than waiting to restart the cycle of disappearance, development, and destruction again.

You can find more information on Tulare Lake’s resurgence on the blog here and here. You can read more about Tulare County here and here.

Fired from fire insurance? Large insurers pull out of the California market

Wildfires have become an increasingly common disaster in California. From 1996 to 2001, the number of wildfires in northern and central California increased fivefold due to climate change. The communities most at risk are those located in rural areas—over 85% of California's rural land is now in "high" or "very high" severity zones for wildfire danger. 

The growing number of wildfires has become a devastating risk not only to rural homeowners, but to home insurance companies as well. Fire insurance is usually covered under general homeowners' insurance and is not a separate coverage, as flood insurance is. The increase of wildfires has resulted in growing premiums and deductibles for home insurance, and more shockingly the withdrawal of two leading home insurers from the California market. In the past year, State Farm, the largest insurer in California, and Allstate both announced they would no longer be accepting applications for homeowners' and renters' insurance in the state. 

This may not be so surprising after the disastrous impact of wildfires in recent years. In 2018, the Camp Fire in Paradise destroyed nearly 19,000 properties costing insurers $16.5 billion. (Read more about the Camp Fire in Paradise here and here.) The year before, the wine country wildfires totaled over $3.3 billion in insured losses. 

State Farm explained the reasons behind their decision were "historic increases in construction costs outpacing inflation, rapidly growing catastrophe exposure, and a challenging reinsurance market." 

Considering the increased risk of wildfires in rural areas, this will undoubtedly have a disproportionate impact on homeowners in rural communities. 

Allstate went further and made the decision to drop some policyholders living in high-risk fire zones. Beth Pratt, who lives near Yosemite National Park in Mariposa County, was dropped by Allstate after they had insured her for 31 years. She told NPR, "I get companies need to make money. I have no problem with that...But to just drop people—you know, it's scary. It leaves us feeling extremely vulnerable."

While state law does not require homeowners' insurance, most mortgages do require it as a condition of the loan.  Smaller insurers are available for lower fire risk zones. For those living in high-risk areas that private insurers refuse to cover, the state offers the Fair Access to Insurance Requirements (FAIR) plan. The FAIR plan consists of insurers in the state willing to cover these areas but it comes at a high cost and for far less coverage than standard policies. 

The hesitancy of insurers to provide policies for homes in high-risk areas is certain to affect new homeowners. According to the Insurance Information Institute, there are 1.2 million homes in California that are at risk of extreme wildfire, and there has been an influx of people moving into these fire-prone areas. While owning property may seem cheaper in rural areas, it is increasingly coming with a hefty added cost. A home insurance policy from an insurer such as State Farm for a million-dollar house in the Santa Cruz mountains would usually be around $150 a month, but with the FAIR plan, the rate is closer to $600 a month. This will be a barrier to many people looking to move to rural areas and buy property. 

Pratt also told NPR, "The notion that, somehow, you know, we all built in this high-risk fire area—well, no, we didn't have major fires here every year." It is unclear what the solution for affordable home insurance is when wildfires and other natural disasters are becoming far too frequent. It seems truly unfair, however, for large insurance companies to be able to pull out when they are needed most. 

You can read more about the disproportionate impact the lack of insurance has on rural communities here and here. 

Rural places as sacrifice zones, from California to China

I've been following this story out of California for a few months or so--the story of how a company called Flannery Associates has been buying up thousands of acres of farm and other rural land in Solano County, between Sacramento and San Francisco.   The Wall Street Journal first reported in July under a headline more focused on national security concerns than anything else, "Investors Bought Nearly $1 Billion in Land Near a California Air Force Base. Officials Want to Know Who Exactly They Are."  The speculation then was that foreign investors might be buying up the land as they are elsewhere in the United States, creating a threat to our food security.  Alternatively or additionally, any foreign threat stem from the proximity to Travis Air Force Base.  

Then, about ten days ago, the San Francisco Chronicle and New York Times revealed, nearly simultaneously, that the folks behind Flannery Associates are Silicon Valley elites hoping to aquire enough land to build a new city--obviously in the orbit of the Bay Area--from scratch.  

The San Francisco Chronicle describes what the area is now:  "rural back roads that snake the dry farmland around Jepson Prairie and Montezuma Hills."  There's also this: 

For more than a century, the rangeland in southeast Solano County didn’t change much. Cattle and sheep grazed. Wheat and barley grew. Ranches were passed down from generation to generation in this swath of wide open territory between Vallejo and Sacramento.

This excerpt from the New York Times story about Flannery's aspiration similarly characterizes the place's starting point as rural:

Take an arid patch of brown hills cut by a two-lane highway between suburbs and rural land, and convert it into a community with tens of thousands of residents, clean energy, public transportation and dense urban life.

Elsewhere, the utopia the investors aspire to build is compared to Paris or the West Village in New York City in terms of walkability, a "bustling metropolis that ... could generate thousands of jobs."  

The Chronicle story provides this on Flannery's business practices--and an interesting legal strategy that reminds me of the old adage, "the best defense is a good offense": 

From the beginning, Flannery has been relentless in its drive to buy up parcels of land in southeast Solano County, often paying three or four or five times appraised value. But while it has willingly offered to pay well above market value, the company has also accused the ranchers of colluding to force prices even higher. In May, Flannery filed a lawsuit in the U.S. District Court in Sacramento, accusing a group of ranchers of an “illegal price-fixing conspiracy” that caused them to spend $170 million in “overpayment for properties.” The lawsuit seeks $510 million in damages.

Lisa Shipley, manager of the Solano County Farm Bureau, said the accusations of collusion have had a chilling effect on the tight-knit community, with ranchers wary of talking to each other lest they be accused of conspiring against Flannery.

Shipley is quoted:

Flannery has done some slimy, underhanded stuff to these long-term, multigenerational farmers.  Everyone is afraid to talk. They are afraid of getting sued. My members are afraid to talk to me. It’s a messy situation.

Flannery is only now starting to talk to local government officials regarding their plans.  Given that the land is zoned agricultural and there is little water available, big hurdles remain.  The story quotes Solano County Administrator Bill Emlen, who said he's been looking into Flannery for five years.  

We approached them a while back and said, ‘We’ve noticed you have been making a lot of large acquisitions and we’d like to set up a meeting to talk about zoning and the general plan and what your intentions are.'  They said they were investors in family farms and their intention was to continue with grazing and farming and that was their plan.

Emlen noted that the county's policies have long been to approve only "large scale residential development takes place in the cities," including Vacaville, Dixon, and Fairfield, and thus to preserve the rural parts of the county. 

With these California events fresh in my mind, I couldn't help think of a partial California-China parallel when the Washington Post reported here a few days ago from a rural part of Hebei province, home of Beijing.  The headline is, "Rural areas sacrificed for Xi Jinping’s new city, satellite imagery shows."  The story tells of government efforts to build a whole new metro area, Xiong'an New Area, in the orbit of Beijing.  Xiong'an New Area, which will be twice the size of New York City, has been under construction for six years.  When the new metro was recently threatened by flooding from Typhoon Doksuri, Chinese officials used rural parts of the province as a sacrifice zone to save their investment in the new city. 

Here's an excerpt from the Post's story.

[W]hile the effort diverted water away from Xiong’an and other urban areas, it directly contributed to the devastation of rural villages in Hebei, destroying homes and livelihoods. Satellite images reveal that authorities’ actions led to a dramatic increase of water across those areas, covering at least 95 square miles — almost 46,000 football fields. In one of the clearest examples, more than 20 square miles of farmland near Xiong’an’s high-speed railway station were still underwater on Aug. 5.

* * * 

The idea that rural areas are better suited to take the brunt of flooding dates to as early as the 1950s and 1960s, when most of the country’s flood zones — areas that are deliberately flooded to absorb excess water — were built. But such areas are no longer as sparsely populated as they once were. Local governments have allowed towns in designated flood zones to grow, despite regulations meant to control the number of residents living there.

We can also see instances--even recent ones--of rural places being sacrifice zones to urban ones when flooding strikes in the United States.  I wrote about it this spring from California, but it's also been a practice when flooding has threatened the Mississippi River Valley.  

Flooding impacts on rural Vermont

Though Vermont is known as a very rural state, I haven't seen much coverage of this week's flooding there that used the word "rural."  So I was happy (is that the right adjective?) to see this story from Vermont Digger, posted on July 13, that does just that.  The headline is "When you can’t get there from here: In rural areas, road closure updates hard to find."  The subhead is "From cardboard signs to Google Maps, information has been crowd-sourced and ad hoc."  Kristen Fountain reports, and the lede follows.

It was the talk of the porch at the Craftsbury General Store on Tuesday morning and inside the town office across the street: What was the best way, if there was one, of getting out of town?

Both locations were up and running on generators, though power was out. The noise drew neighbors like moths to light, seeking coffee and news.

Like many other small towns across the state, residents of Craftsbury and nearby towns — Glover, Greensboro, Hardwick, Woodbury and Wolcott among them —- woke to find that active flooding or major water damage had closed the usual travel routes along state roads. The conversation quickly turned to finding workarounds on the area’s network of local roads.

Those who arrived in cars offered up intel about which ones had deep standing water or were only partially washed out.

“It was definitely chaotic. A lot of people with a lot of information” were stopping by and calling, recalled Craftsbury Town Clerk Michelle Warren on Wednesday morning. Later, once power was restored for the senders, there were emails, too. “There were some roads we didn’t realize how bad it was until we saw pictures,” she said.

Officials in other towns posted lists of open and closed roads on their websites or Facebook pages and on Front Porch Forum groups, which worked to some degree.

Warren was grateful to have the help of a volunteer with geographic mapping experience on Tuesday to create a digital map where all that information could be recorded and shared via the town website. The tool has allowed her to update residents and travelers daily since then on where the town road crew and locals with excavators and dump trucks have made progress shoring up washouts.

One town that has been very much in the news in the wake of the flooding is Ludlow, population 773.  Here's some New York Times coverage with lots of photos of Ludlow, as well as other hard-hit towns in Central Vermont.  The lede for that story highlights familiar stereotypes of the region:

Vermont, a state known for peaceful green mountains, grazing cows and tidy covered bridges, is not often seen as a place where mudslides threaten highways, rivers churn with debris and murky, propane-fouled floodwaters fill downtown streets.

Another town getting a lot of attention in national coverage is Barre, population 8,000. 

Prior posts about Vermont are here, and this post in particular discusses the 2011 Vermont floods resulting from Tropical Storm Irene, as well as the historic 1927 flood.