The past few days have seen me at a shelter in Republic. Staying in a shelter was never on my bucket list, but here I am.
How did I get here? It began with last Thursday's evacuation of Aeneas Valley in Okanogan County, where my cabin is located. Taking advantage of blue skies and clean air, I camped at Curlew Lake State Park north of Republic. That’s where we left off in the last installment of my saga.
Last Saturday, August 22, my friend Chuck and I departed the campground and headed for the cabin. We really wanted to improve the perimeter around the cabin. Despite my previous efforts, a great deal of fuel remained on the ground on the downhill side of the porch. That’s a bad place for fuel. Fires tend to travel uphill much faster than downhill. Two chutes next to the cabin, if ignited, could send a jet of fire towards the cabin, and into the two largest trees nearby. In turn, the trees could become giant torches, throwing embers everywhere.
We drove west from Republic under clear skies. As we approached Aeneas Valley, the smoke from the Tunk Block fire rose menacingly ahead of us.
All images are Lightbox; click to enlarge.
This is the last deep blue sky I would see for days
At the cabin, the air was smoky, but blue sky was visible overhead. Soon smoke filled the entire sky.
Smoke encroaching on Aeneas Valley
Chuck clipped grass while I raked the clippings and carried them away. It’s not enough to move the flammable material away from the immediate vicinity of a building; it must be hauled away to a place where it will burn harmlessly. An old wash tub made a handy container. In a week’s time, it was probably filled and emptied a hundred times.
View from cabin after fuel reduction
Then we turned our attention to the large ponderosa pine downhill from the cabin. In the pre-suppression days, frequent fire would have limited the buildup of pine needles to a thin layer. By my estimation, the last fire swept across the property more than 30 years ago. Since then, pine needles and cones have accumulated to a depth as great as two feet beneath some trees. The climate is dry enough that the oldest needles are only partially decomposed. The stuff would not all burn at once, but would smolder for a very long time.
Chuck trimmed the lowest branches with a handsaw. He had a chainsaw, but did not want to risk throwing out a spark and setting the woods on fire. That would sort of defeat our purpose.
Every time we finished one wave of work, we’d see more that should be done. But at some point you have to call it good and leave the rest to fate.
The firewood had to be removed from the porch, too
As daylight faded, the smoke became seriously thick. Visibility was one-quarter mile at best. We elected to spend the night, but were ready to leave in a moment’s notice if need be. Most of our gear stayed in our trucks, which were facing towards the way out.
All that work made me tired enough that I fell asleep right away. But later in the night the smoke made me uncomfortable, especially in a prone position. I tried sitting in the cab of my truck and was able to catch a few winks.
Sunday, August 23
When the sun came up, we decided that it was time to leave. There was little more that we could do; we could not see even halfway to the valley; and the air was unhealthy. We didn’t even have breakfast. My “emergency” rations include some bottles of Starbucks coffee, in case there’s no time to make a fresh batch. This qualified as an emergency morning.
This might look like a foggy morning, but it's bone dry
Over the course of the night, the smoke had expanded for many miles. Gaining elevation around the small settlement of Wauconda, I kept hoping to see blue sky. There was none.
Chuck fixed breakfast in his camper when we arrived in Republic, and then headed for home. I only had a vague idea of where I was going next, but I always figure things out. One thing was certain: I was not going back to the cabin any time soon. It might not have been the pits of hell, but it was a short distance downwind.
I knew that a fire status meeting was scheduled later in the day for the local elementary school. I also know that the building had been designated a fire shelter. When I went inside to check on the schedule, I was told that showers and laundry were available. The shower was very appealing after a day and night in the smoke.
Search and Rescue operates the shelter
One benefit of attending the fire briefings is that huge, full-color maps are brought from the mapping center. They show fire boundaries, fire break locations, and evacuation zones. Some maps show every house and cabin in the affected area. A wealth of information is gained, even before the meeting begins.
How close is the fire to my house?
At the previous meeting, last Wednesday, the focus had been on the North Star fire, because the Tunk Block fire was barely getting started. And while the citizens of Republic were most concerned with North Star, those who had evacuated from Aeneas Valley were equally worried about Tunk Block. Both fires were expanding at an alarming rate, but fire managers were working hard to keep the blazes away from populated reaches.
With the meeting over, it was time for me to make a choice. My original intent was to return to the campground at Curlew Lake. But the air quality was awful, with no prospect for improvement. The filtered air inside the school was much cleaner. Besides, there was a roof over my head, electricity, phone and internet, and food. Many of the routes out of town were closed or were barely passable due to the numerous fires. I elected to stay.
Only a handful of people were staying at the school. The original idea, apparently, was for most guests to sleep in the gym; but those who had arrived thus far had selected other niches. I placed a cot in a corner of the gym and had the place to myself.
The map serves to remind me why I am here
So there I was, a voluntary refugee. I could have gone elsewhere, but this was the safest place. And I was close enough to the cabin that I could easily get there if the conditions were right.
This would be yet another learning opportunity, one more adventure on the road of life.
Street scene in Republic
Previous diaries in this series:
Fire on the Mountain describes the beginnings of the North Star Fire.
The Accidental Journalist, Part 1 covers the events of last Monday and Tuesday.
The Accidental Journalist, Part 2 covers Wednesday's action.
The Accidental Journalist, Part 3 continues the story through Friday.