"Stay down," the assistant Ferndale fire chief Ken Sharr yelled. I was doing my best to keep up with the four firemen ahead of me as we entered into a Ferndale home on our hands and knees pulling a fire hose with us.

There is no part of me that has ever thought that being a fireman would be an easy job, but yet I was still shocked by the intensity that surrounds their duties two Saturday's ago when I participated in the training fire with the Ferndale Fire Department and a few members of the Bigfork and Swan Lake departments.

It interesting to spend the day with people who were so passionate about something I knew so little about. The Ferndale department chief and volunteers have a wealth of years of experience fighting fires and it showed as they spoke to me about the heart that goes into their job and their willingness to sacrifice their time to help others.

I went into the burning house on two evolutions before staking out a spot to just take pictures. While with the crews, the number of things we had to do and think about all at once was a little overwhelming, even for someone who feels she thrives in those types of situations.

I was surprised that the most difficult part for me was having to crawl on the ground, which would seem like a no-brainer since I've been doing that since before I could walk. However, I was constantly fighting the urge to stand up and see what was ahead. I also didn't expect to have so many things to crawl over, which made the high-speed entrance even more challenging.

Although the gear was heavy and awkward at first, I got used to it fairly quickly. Breathing through the mask wasn't as strange as I thought it would be either.

The most memorable, and scariest, moment for me wasn't a fire-related incident. It was when I stayed back to take some pictures of the rest of the group I was with. I was crouched down in the entry room waiting for them to come back out of a bedroom they were extinguishing a fire in. All of sudden the room filled up with smoke. I couldn't see them and I couldn't see Sharr, who was my guide for the day. At first I wanted to panic. It seemed like the rational idea. Then I looked down and realized that I was protected from head-to-toe. Yes, if something fell on me or there was some sort of explosion, my fire-proof gear wasn't going to save me, but after a couple of deep breaths and I came to the conclusion that I was going to be OK.

I was later commended for my efforts by the captains and chiefs on the site — not for my ability to pull the hose or help with putting out the fires I'm sure, but for staying calm and keeping myself in the high-pressure situation. One of them told me that if I was able to be in there without freaking out that I owed it to my community to sign up and do it. I've thought about that several times since, but what I also think I owe to my community is to tell them that they could do it too. It was hard work and it was uncomfortable and strange, but it wasn't unbearable. At the end of the day, I had a feeling of achievement and success. I know that it looks and sounds terrifying, but overcoming those fears just adds to the thrill.