The phone rang last night, just before midnight. Family members apologizing for the lateness of the call, but letting me know that police had just come by and told them to be ready to evacuate at any time. Black Mountain, which is what we see out our kitchen window, is on fire. The fire had reached the ridge and was threatening to come over and in our direction.
If you live in the California foothills, you know the drill. The valuables, legal papers, and most precious keepsakes get packed away so you can put them into the cars at a moment’s notice. Or, if things get really hairy, you put that stuff into the trunk of the car. 300 homes up the hill have already been evacuated.
Our place is just a few miles from the geographical center of California, east of Fresno, in the foothills, near where the four-lane highway heads up into the high Sierra to Shaver Lake. It is also near the epicenter of the drought.
We had an average winter, as far as precipitation was concerned. Actually, slightly better than average. But not enough to make any real dent in the water deficit. Thank God it was enough to refill the pond down the road from us. That may yet save us.
But last winter’s weather also may have doomed this region. You see, even though we had a normal year of precipitation, we did NOT have the normal number of days of hard freeze in the mountains.
Our pine forests, weakened by three years of drought, have suffered an infestation of bark beetles. And the winter’s freeze, which can stop them, didn’t happen. Last summer, Black Mountain was green — from the evergreen forest. This year, it is brown. The bark beetles are killing everything.
I was out there three weeks ago, and was stunned at how a mountain had literally changed color in one year, because thousands of trees have died. We drove a back road down the mountain to see the extent of the damage, and all felt an impending sense of dread.
CDF and NPS types are saying that the change in weather patterns may mean an end to the pine forests that grace our mountains. Without the winter’s freeze, the bark beetles can’t be stopped. Other scrub trees will take the place of the pines.
Millions of trees have died in our area, and there is no market for firewood. Everyone has more than they need. The only people getting rich are those who cut trees, especially from the property of homeowners who desperately want to have dead trees removed to protect their homes from fire. We haven’t had a serious fire on Black Mountain in about thirty years, and the situation is grim for the coming months.
I got a call about half an hour ago from my family. They had made it through the night. As we talked, I could hear the whirring of the CDF helicopter, heading to and from the pond down the road, scooping up water to drop on the hot spots. Last summer, there was only mud in that pond. Now, thank goodness, there is water to fight the fires.
Overhead, two “Borate Bombers,” a DC-9 and a 727, were dropping fire retardant chemicals on the mountain. The bombers drop their loads, head back to Fresno, fill up with more chemicals, and return. The chopper is a constant buzz, scooping water from the pond, and heading up the hill. The bombers come and go. The chopper is loud as it flies over our house, then the sound lessens, but never really seems to go away.
The winds have been favorable for us. Smoke is not blowing in our direction. Last fall, the Rough Fire was 40 miles away, in Sequoia National Park, but the winds blew the smoke right up the spine of the mountain toward us. It was like a tunnel effect. Our family’s young defensive back had one high school football game cancelled because the smoke from a fire 40 miles away was too intense. At least now, we are being spared heavy smoke, though others are not.
They definitely could use more equipment to fight this fire, but there are so many other fires in the state right now, that this is all that’s available.
Fire is a fact of life in California. Always has been. But in the Sierra foothills and high Sierra, changes in climate have added a new element to the equation. A cyclical drought, combined with warmer winters, may be leading to the death of the pine forest ecosystem over large portions of the state.
Environmentalists and politicians may argue about how much of what’s going on in outside our farmhouse is cyclical and how much of it is real, long-lasting manmade change. I’ve seen for myself how a couple years of drought and warm winters can threaten an entire eco-system with complete destruction.
But for now, I’m more concerned with the well-being of my family and our neighbors, and the men and women who bravely battle fire for the good of us all.
UPDATE: SUNDAY 10PM EDT, 7PM PDT:
Our family has been forced to evacuate and the fire has drawn closer. One key reason for the evacuation is that we are on Lodge Road, and Lodge Road is a major containment line for the fire fighters. Once they closed it, there was no way out, so our folks had to leave to get out of their way. They are in the parking lot of the strip mall in Prather now, and will likely spend the night at the shelter at the Middle School.
CalFire has diverted some equipment from as far away as San Diego — and from the Big Sur fire to battle this one. There are now dozens of pieces of equipment in the air, and hundreds of pieces on the ground. After dark, when it’s no longer safe to fly, the battle will shift entirely to the army of fire engines on the containment lines. Tonight, in the darkness and intense heat, hundreds of people we don’t know will be risking life and limb, out on Lodge Road, in front of our property, to protect our home — and all the others — from total destruction. God bless and protect our fire fighters.
Some of the news reports are now referencing the numbers of dead trees — and also the brush in the steep canyons — brought to life by the winter rains and now dry kindling — as factors making this such a difficult blaze to contain.
Everything I have heard is that folks are being cared for, and so are their animals. The Red Cross has been extremely helpful, and — as you find in rural and farm communities — neighbors are helping neighbors, folks are taking in friends and family, and churches and other groups are providing shelter. When you live some distance from centers of population — and from the government — you rely more on yourself and your neighbors.
I have to tell you, it’s jarring to look at the video — with smoke and flames in the background — and see places I know so well. It’s really hitting home.
That’s the latest.