Platinumstorm
Member
I have always realized I lived near the wildland-urban interface. It's really my only reason to live in Colorado. In my neighborhood, this has always been more focused on mountain lions, the bobcats in my greenbelt, eagles, ospreys, etc. We even had a bear in town this year and a pair of elk. I am 7 miles from the mountains, and wildfires happen primarily in the mountains, but I'm still within that interface. Last year, I posted pictures as I watched fires consume mansions about 7 miles from where I live; on the foothills.
Throughout this year, my area has been in drought conditions, and with temperatures hovering around 20 degrees above normal throughout all of the fall [the most beautiful fall I have ever seen] and the winter [until today]. I have had 2 days of measurable precipitation in the last 5 months, including today [I am in a winter storm warning], and this will be the latest measurable snowfall on record in my area; which I expect to be broken today.
Yesterday, a wildfire started at my local mountain bike trail, very suspected, and with very clear visual proof, that the power lines snapped in 115 MPH winds.
I ran some errands around town, and when I got around the corner to my home, I suddenly saw smoke a few miles away directly south of me. The fire was actually southwest of me, but I couldn't figure that out because of how aggressive the smoke was blowing the wind. I knew this was going to be a horrible situation. I took a shower because I knew I was not in immediate danger, but likely would be. By the time I hopped out of the shower, the fire had changed from a gray-white, to gray-black, and I knew my area was burning.
At this point I started to collect all of the information I could; listening to county fire, tuning to my county's emergency networks on twitter and facebook, but information was pretty scarce. My brother lives on the south side of the fire, so we were also coordinating with each other from what we could see, or tell. As the fire grew, for the first time in my life, I prepared an evacuation bag. I listened as the fire crossed highway 36 and surrounded Avista hospital; very close to me. Eventually, evacuation orders were given, and I was just across the street from mandatory evacuation. Surely this fire couldn't burn across 2 major towns to hit my house, could it? I went into each room and catalogued all of my possessions with my phone.
Well, it turns out it probably could. As the fire grew, I packed everything I really cared to take with me. I am single, so it was essentially documents pertaining to the house/insurance, a death certificate, clothes, toothbrush, sleeping stuff, a towel, pillows, my ski gear [brand new], and my PS5 [only because they're hard to find]. Everything else, as far as I was concerned, could melt. I could get a new TV, a new mountain bike, new speakers, a new monitor; none of that stuff really mattered. I also planned to grab my computer, but kept it hooked up because it was a source of information for me, and it was to be the last item I grabbed before evacuating. As I was finishing up, I hooked up my bike rack [it's a nice back rack], and offered to help my neighbors who evacuated, and I advised another elderly neighbor that she should pack a bag.
As the sun was setting, the fire was now close enough that I could hear explosions and pops that would be followed by an illumination of the billowing clouds as the ember shrapnel set other nearby fires and new distinct layers of smoke as they marched closer. The explosions increased as propane tanks burst, and I had to evaluate if it was still safe for me to stay. At this time, I had seen the traffic flow as Louisville evacuated, and they still weren't moving the emergency shelter that was set up close by.
Had the fire started about 2 hours earlier, I don't think my home, nor old town Louisville would be standing today because of the winds. I am greatly appreciative of the efforts of the firefighters, and I feel burdened by the loss of others' homes and places they, and I, love.
This is the most destructive fire in Colorado history, which, by the graces of us failing to make changes in this world, has happened in December; taking over 600 homes; the closest within walking distance of my home. This was was preceded last year by the 3 largest fires in Colorado history
Pictures:
Post shower:
30 minutes later
Video:
Right now:
Throughout this year, my area has been in drought conditions, and with temperatures hovering around 20 degrees above normal throughout all of the fall [the most beautiful fall I have ever seen] and the winter [until today]. I have had 2 days of measurable precipitation in the last 5 months, including today [I am in a winter storm warning], and this will be the latest measurable snowfall on record in my area; which I expect to be broken today.
Yesterday, a wildfire started at my local mountain bike trail, very suspected, and with very clear visual proof, that the power lines snapped in 115 MPH winds.
I ran some errands around town, and when I got around the corner to my home, I suddenly saw smoke a few miles away directly south of me. The fire was actually southwest of me, but I couldn't figure that out because of how aggressive the smoke was blowing the wind. I knew this was going to be a horrible situation. I took a shower because I knew I was not in immediate danger, but likely would be. By the time I hopped out of the shower, the fire had changed from a gray-white, to gray-black, and I knew my area was burning.
At this point I started to collect all of the information I could; listening to county fire, tuning to my county's emergency networks on twitter and facebook, but information was pretty scarce. My brother lives on the south side of the fire, so we were also coordinating with each other from what we could see, or tell. As the fire grew, for the first time in my life, I prepared an evacuation bag. I listened as the fire crossed highway 36 and surrounded Avista hospital; very close to me. Eventually, evacuation orders were given, and I was just across the street from mandatory evacuation. Surely this fire couldn't burn across 2 major towns to hit my house, could it? I went into each room and catalogued all of my possessions with my phone.
Well, it turns out it probably could. As the fire grew, I packed everything I really cared to take with me. I am single, so it was essentially documents pertaining to the house/insurance, a death certificate, clothes, toothbrush, sleeping stuff, a towel, pillows, my ski gear [brand new], and my PS5 [only because they're hard to find]. Everything else, as far as I was concerned, could melt. I could get a new TV, a new mountain bike, new speakers, a new monitor; none of that stuff really mattered. I also planned to grab my computer, but kept it hooked up because it was a source of information for me, and it was to be the last item I grabbed before evacuating. As I was finishing up, I hooked up my bike rack [it's a nice back rack], and offered to help my neighbors who evacuated, and I advised another elderly neighbor that she should pack a bag.
As the sun was setting, the fire was now close enough that I could hear explosions and pops that would be followed by an illumination of the billowing clouds as the ember shrapnel set other nearby fires and new distinct layers of smoke as they marched closer. The explosions increased as propane tanks burst, and I had to evaluate if it was still safe for me to stay. At this time, I had seen the traffic flow as Louisville evacuated, and they still weren't moving the emergency shelter that was set up close by.
Had the fire started about 2 hours earlier, I don't think my home, nor old town Louisville would be standing today because of the winds. I am greatly appreciative of the efforts of the firefighters, and I feel burdened by the loss of others' homes and places they, and I, love.
This is the most destructive fire in Colorado history, which, by the graces of us failing to make changes in this world, has happened in December; taking over 600 homes; the closest within walking distance of my home. This was was preceded last year by the 3 largest fires in Colorado history
Pictures:
Post shower:
30 minutes later
Video:
Right now:
Last edited:
