Smoke drifted above the dry yellow star thistle at Willow Creek Conservancy on Dec. 16, curling upward in soft, deliberate plumes.
Salinan Tribe of Monterey and San Luis Obispo Counties members and firefighters stood on the land, drip torches in hand, watching as the flames followed a carefully planned path. The fire stayed small, controlled, and intentional—exactly as it was meant to be.
For Brandi Plaskett, a Salinan and yak tityu tityu yak tiłhini (ytt Northern Chumash) Tribe member and retired Cal Fire firefighter, this burn was spiritual. The fire marked the first time since pre-contact that Salinans have been able to conduct a cultural burn on land within their ancestral territory.
“It warms my heart to be able to bring burning back to the land after so many years of being dormant,” Plaskett said. “Waking up that kinship that we have with fire. We’ve had it all along and returning our land to a more natural state, it just warms my heart. It makes me proud to be native.”
Robert Piatti, a Salinan Tribal Council member, helped organize the burn and watched as the flames crept across the land.
“For our people, fire was never something to fear,” he said. “It was a tool. It made certain species stronger, kept invasive plants out, and helped the land stay healthy. Losing the ability to practice that was tied to losing access to land itself.”
The Salinan people’s ancestral territory stretches across a wide swath of Central California, from the Salinas River in Monterey County south to the Santa Maria River. Because they were historically migratory, Piatti explained, their villages and gathering sites were spread across the region, connected by seasonal movement and shared resources rather than rigid boundaries.
Today, Piatti explained, the Salinan are among roughly 40 California tribes that lack federal recognition. Without formal recognition, the tribe has few opportunities to practice traditional land stewardship or gather cultural resources.
“No public lands belong to us at this point,” Piatti said. “So, to be able to belong to a place of land like [Willow Creek], we are another resource of this place. We don’t own the land. We are the land; we belong to the land. That’s how it should be. Having this opportunity to share and build something that we can continue to gather on and improve is special.”
The cultural burn, held in partnership with the Upper Salinas-Las Tablas Resource Conservation District and Cal Fire, took place on 5 acres of the 358-acre Willow Creek Conservancy west of Paso Robles. The burn blended traditional ecological knowledge with modern fire science in a collaborative effort focused on restoration, education, and healing.
For thousands of years, Piatti explained, Indigenous peoples across California used frequent, low-intensity fires to shape the land, clearing underbrush, encouraging food and basketry plants to grow, and preventing the buildup of hazardous fuels.
Spencer Gordon, the resource conservation district’s forestry project manager, explained that plant species in California have adapted to thrive off of fire for centuries.
“If you think about the past 150 years, since [fire] was outlawed, there’s been a huge disruption of that natural fire,” he said. “So you take, you know, 15,000 years of adaptation and you put a distinct halt to it. You’re going to start to see some implications and some impacts.”
The burn at Willow Creek was designed both to restore the land and to teach tribal members how to work with fire safely.
That morning, Cal Fire firefighters spent three hours inside a barn at the conservancy, leading a workshop on the science of fire and the strategies behind controlled burns. After the classroom session, firefighters, tribal members, and conservation district staff traveled together to the 5-acre plot.
Before the first flames were lit, everyone stood in a circle to offer herbs to the Earth, each person taking a pinch from an abalone shell. Then, under the guidance of Cal Fire, the group moved along the fire line as the burn began, practicing ignition techniques, learning how to hold the fire, and observing the safety measures that keep controlled burns contained and purposeful.
“Our biggest objective was education,” Gordon said. “We wanted to show how prescribed fire is conducted safely so that information can support future cultural burns held by the tribe.”
About 95 percent of the vegetation growing on the 5-acre plot was yellow star thistle, he explained. That monoculture does not support native plant and animal diversity. By ridding the land of the invasive species, culturally significant native plants can regenerate.
“Some of the native plants that we did see while we were out there were black sage and elderberry,” Plaskett said.
Black sage is culturally significant for ceremony, elderberries for food and medicine, dogbane for cordage, and willow for construction, medicine, and basketry, she explained.
“One willow tree at Willow Creek,” Piatti said. “That tells you how much restoration is needed.”
The partnership with the conservation district has been building for more than a year, beginning with seed collection, greenhouse work, and ongoing conversations about stewardship.
“It was heartening,” Piatti said. “Not just for our tribal members, but for everyone there … . There was a lot of gratitude and hope.”
Over the past two years, the resource conservation district has been working to restore the land at Willow Creek. This year, they planted roughly 650 native oak trees including coast live oaks and valley oaks, established pollinator hedgerows, and brought in goats to graze invasive species on the land. Prescribed fire, Executive Director Drew Loganbill said, is a critical piece of that restoration—a way to weaken the star thistle seed bank and give native plants the chance to return.
“There are native seeds in the soil that can persist for years,” Gordon said. “They’re just waiting for the right conditions.”
As the fire cleared the thistle, it also cleared a path for restoring cultural practices, reconnecting the tribe to the land, and reviving biodiversity.
“These plants are part of our identity,” Plaskett said. “Fire helps bring them back.”
For Plaskett, blending her firefighting experience with her Salinan heritage has been deeply personal.
“I’ve had a special kinship with fire since I was really young,” she said. “There must be something there spiritually. I feel a very strong relationship with fire, and I’m glad I am able to blend those two worlds together: The professionalism of Cal Fire and the cultural aspect as a native person.”
Willow Creek Conservancy is envisioned as a living laboratory, a place where land managers, tribes, and community partners can demonstrate sustainable practices and learn from one another.
“This is a resource for the community,” Loganbill said. “We want it to benefit wildlife, support education, and show what’s possible when people work together.”
Gordon said that collaborative approach is essential.
“We can’t do this alone,” he said. “It’s about sharing knowledge.” ∆
Reach Staff Writer Chloë Hodge at chodge@newtimesslo.com.
This article appears in Dec 25, 2025 – Jan 1, 2026.