Contentment by design - Living - Places photo #1034

Colorado fires update, one week later

On the afternoon of Saturday, Oct 17, 2020, the day after I took the previous photo, a fire broke out near the Cal-Wood Education Center, which is just northeast of Jamestown, Colorado, about 6 or 7 miles southwest of our place. Because of the intense winds, high temperatures, and super dry conditions—like much of the West, we've had a severe drought this year—the fire exploded, burning towards the northeast; in other words, in our direction. I was on the phone telling a neighbor about the smoke I had seen in the sky to the north the previous evening when she asked, "Are you also seeing the smoke from the new fire to the southwest of us?" I hadn't yet heard about the new fire, so I was stunned when I looked that way and saw the smoke filling the sky in that direction, too.

Within about five hours, the new fire, now named the Calwood Fire, had consumed well over 7,000 acres, and our neighborhood was ordered to evacuate. We had planned for something like this, so had checklists organized by location, but it was much more challenging than we thought it would be, and took much longer. Then there was that stomach-clenching moment when we stood in front of our packed cars and looked at our home, knowing it was possible we might not see it again.

Some dear friends of ours in the nearby town of Lyons graciously invited us to stay with them (thank you, Dorothy & Jim!), and we arrived just before sunset. This was the view from their deck, looking south towards our neighborhood, which is located on the north side of the fire. At that time, the fire was burning north towards our neighborhood, as well as towards the east and south.

By the end of that evening, the fire had become the largest in Boulder County history and had destroyed more than two dozen homes⩘ that were located on the eastern edge of the fire, just where the foothills meet the plains. My heart goes out to the people who lost their homes.

Obviously, I couldn't sleep that night, but something good happened while I lay there awake with my stomach in knots: we had a very unusual turn of weather that had not been forecast, an inversion that brought a cold misty fog that hung over the fire for most of Sunday, stalling it.

The forecast for the next few days—Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday—was ominous. Each day, we were expecting the resumption of the high, gusty winds that are typical here this time of year. Surprisingly, each day passed calmly. In the meantime, our amazing Lyons Fire Protection District firefighters, joined by firefighting teams from around the state and country, were courageously tackling the fire, so it grew only very slowly. I feel such a deep sense of gratitude to those incredibly brave, hardworking women and men, many of whom are volunteers!

We returned home during the daylight hours each day to do additional fire mitigation work: watering around our home, cutting dead branches out of the Ponderosa pine trees (something we do every autumn), and removing dead pine needles from around our home and the gutters (they fall in abundance this time of year, especially after such a dry summer, so even though we had removed the needles from the gutters just a few days before, they were already full again).

Because of the continued calmness and the slow growth of the fire, the evacuation order for our neighborhood was downgraded to an evacuation warning (which basically means: be ready to leave within five minutes), so on Wednesday night, we returned home and began to feel a cautious sense of optimism. However, on Thursday, the forecast changed again to another Red Flag Warning for high winds, and we were once again ordered to evacuate. The nearby town of Lyons was put on an evacuation warning, so this time some wonderful friends in Longmont, a town further east, graciously invited us into their home (thank you, Deirdre & Michael!).

I again couldn't sleep that night due to the anxiety I was feeling, but once again, incredibly, the winds didn't materialize. In the early afternoon of Thursday, we took a walk around MacIntosh Lake with our friend and received a reminder that even in the middle of a crisis, there are moments of serenity and beauty to be found. This is one of the Great Blue Herons we saw during our walk.

That photo is looking towards the west. What you don't see is that the skies just to the right (to the north) were roiling with angry smoke because on Thursday, a new fire that had erupted about a week previously on the western side of the Continental Divide, the East Troublesome Fire, absolutely blew up. In just one day, that fire grew by more than 100,000 acres to become the second largest fire in Colorado History, growing to a size that it took the current largest fire, the Cameron Peak Fire, more than two months to grow to. At one point, it apparently was burning the equivalent of 70 football fields of forest per minute! We have never before seen anything like that here in Colorado. By the end of the day, it had jumped over the Continental Divide, burning east in one of our favorite hiking areas in Rocky Mountain National Park, just north of Bear Lake and moving east towards Bierstadt Lake (see the first six photos here⩘ ).

When we returned from our walk, we learned that the evacuation order for our neighborhood had been rescinded and we could once again return home … and that we still had a home to return to! We stumbled in exhausted, feeling a strange combination of both numbness and exhilaration. What an incredible gift, to be in our own home again.

Because there was a deep freeze forecast for overnight (which actually did happen), we drove up to the home of some friends who hadn't yet returned to disconnect and drain their external hoses. They're at the southern edge of our neighborhood, about ½ mile south of us. From their deck, we could see the hillsides that are about another ½ mile to the south of their home, which were about half burned with the fire line coming down the hill and running from the east to the west, but thankfully that area is no longer burning.

One of the last things we did before we evacuated Wednesday afternoon was to sweep and then soak our deck with water. One thing we noticed upon returning Thursday afternoon was the incredible amount of black and white ash that had accumulated everywhere over the previous 24 hours, including on our previously swept deck. The black ash looked like it was from pine needles, while I guess the white ash was from other vegetation. The fire sure got close!

Here are a couple fire maps. The first one shows the extent of the Calwood Fire, which grew to just over 10,000 acres (the light red shaded area is the current mandatory evacuation area).

It looks like we're now out of danger from the nearby Calwood Fire. However, there are crazy winds forecast for further up in the mountains today (Friday) and tonight, as well as tomorrow. It's unlikely but possible that the winds could drive the East Troublesome Fire out of Rocky Mountain National Park, through the town of Estes Park (where there already have been mandatory evacuations), and down the canyon towards us. So for now, we're leaving everything packed, piled up in our living room, and ready to go in case we have to evacuate a third time.

Colorado fires update, Sat, Oct 24, 2020

The East Troublesome Fire mandatory evacuation zone has been expanded and is massive (red shaded hexagon). It heads in a northeasterly direction through Estes Park and towards the Cameron Peak Fire to the north and Fort Collins to the east, rather than in a southeasterly direction towards us (you can see the Calwood Fire—which seems massive to us, but compared to the huge Cameron Peak and East Troublesome fires is relatively small—in the lower right). Unfortunately, with the high winds that are happening, the fire is pushing through Rocky Mountain National Park and is now on the outskirts of Estes Park. Our thoughts go out to all the folks who live in the danger zone. Rocky Mountain National Park has certainly been grievously wounded by these two fires.

There is a winter storm blowing in Saturday night that should last several days, bringing very cold temperatures and snow, so if we make it through to Saturday evening, we'll be in much better shape. We're going from a Red Flag Warning for high winds to a Winter Storm Watch within a couple of hours on Saturday afternoon, and we're expected to get up to a foot of snow on Sunday. Keeping our fingers crossed for now. I wonder if I'll be able to uncross mine when this is all over!

This is definitely an experience that is teaching us much about letting go, and also about how precious ordinary everyday life is.

We feel a deep sense of gratitude to our friends who have supported and nourished us throughout this ordeal with your generosity and expressions of love, as well as the amazing abundance of good thoughts you have showered us with from wherever you are around the world. You certainly have helped us to get through this, and it's possible you are the reason we still have a home. So many unexpected and difficult to explain things have happened, for example, the inversion that stalled the Calwood Fire after that first horrendous day, and the way in which, day after day, we didn't get the forecast Red Flag Warning winds that easily could have caused the fire to engulf our neighborhood.

Thank you, dear friends, from the deepest pools of love in our hearts!

A farmer and her pal
(Hopefully, this is what our place will look like soon!)