Always an Adventure

WHERE THERE’S , smoke THERE’S fire BY AVALANCHE

THE CAR’S TRIP COMPUTER TOLD

me I had spent 38 hours and 25 minutes driving during the previous five-day period across the Rocky Mountain States to the Pacific Northwest, and back home. Of those hours, roughly three were spent un der cloud cover. The other 35-plus hours were spent travelling under a relentless sun that has baked the western United States brown. Virtually all the vegetation was brown unless well-irrigated. The leaves on trees were shriveling and turning brown. Grasses and bushes were of a similar parched, dusty earth-tone. Even the sky was brown from blowing dust and smoke from wildfires, sparked by lightning, electrical problems and human carelessness. Overheated vehicles were regular fixtures parked on the roadside with the hoods up, and frustrated owners on phones summoning help. Seeing a tow truck broken down on the shoulder in a similar state made me feel grateful that my car ran without a hiccup. Arriving home after my long journey, the heat and lack of moisture here in the mountains is “outside of 1979-2019 climatology,” in the appropriately dry words of a recent NOAA forecast discussion. For merly lush landscapes are shriveled and parched, despite regular watering. 95 degrees with 13 percent humidity is not conducive to better lawn and gardens. It is however, horribly efficient for driving wildfires. There were three wildfires generating lots

of smoke along my way home. Two are continuing to burn and grow two weeks later. Another has erupted along the inter state highway just 20 miles away. It raced up canyon walls and jumped to both sides of the river within hours of starting along the highway shoulder. It has grown to over 27,000 acres, with no containment. The temps are forecast to get even hotter over the next few days, with some dry thunderstorms in the mix for added excitement. Some days the smoke blows our way and our valley gets blanketed by clouds of the dense, acrid smelling fog, with visibility not much more than one mile. “Unsafe for sensitive groups” is the official jargon describing the air condition right now, which fluctuates from completely socked-in, to just very hazy. The current fire is not likely to spread here; our main concern is that the slightest spark could start another blaze closer to home. Listening to police and fire scanner traffic highlights spectacular examples of stupidity. Despite the obvious smoke in the air, the closed interstate highway and the region-wide well-publicized fire ban, illegal campfires and negligent cigarette disposal remain ubiquitous. The same folks that came here to escape the urban jungle seem determined to make this area just as uninhabitable as the places from where they came. On the plus side of the ledger, most people are reasonably intelligent and behave accordingly. And so far no one has been hurt, and no structures have been damaged. Here in the neighborhood, we’re doing what we can to get through it. A big treeremoval campaign earlier in the year was very effective at creating fire breaks along our formerly-overgrown roads. Our irriga tion water is still flowing despite the exceptional drought, and everyone keeps fire extinguishers on hand. A new fire siren was installed on a utility pole which, with luck, will never need to be activated. None of these measures had been taken two years ago when a large wildfire erupted in a different area nearby. Now that we’ve seen first-hand what that possibility looks like, tree-cutting and the efficient use of water are high on everyone’s list of priorities. Lots of residents are loading up trailers and campers should the need to evacuate come to pass. This brings up the inevitable debate about what is important to keep and what we could live without. Unpleasant discussions are held, and difficult judgments are made, with the hope that our efforts will not be necessary. We’re fortunate to have that luxury; some of our friends lost a home two years ago to a rapidly moving wildfire, escaping with only the clothes on their backs. Much of this is old-hat to those who’ve lived with high fire danger for years. It’s only recently that our area has acquired the moniker ‘California East.’ At some point, cooler and wetter weather will arrive, and give us more time to prepare for and prevent the next round of smoke and flames.