A little over a year ago, I caught a whiff of smoke in the air while I was retrieving the mail from my mailbox. 

At first, I ignored it, thinking someone was having a BBQ. However, the smell persisted, even when I was back in the house, and I noticed the sky was turning hazy. Immediately, I stepped outside to see where the smell and haze of smoke were coming from. It wasn’t windy (thankfully), but I could still see and smell smoke billowing up from the southwest, drifting through the skies above my house. 

Alarmed, I immediately checked the news while I stood outside, and saw that the Deer Creek hogback was on fire, not two miles from my house. The flames were slow, but were licking their way north along the hogback towards my neighborhood, and fire crews were just starting to descend upon them.

I called my mom to let her know what was up. She was in Seattle for the week, so I was home alone with the dogs. I wasn’t panicked yet, but I was still nervous, especially when Mom asked, “Can you pack up some valuables, please? I’ll send you a list.”

“Will do!” I answered, “Text me a list of what you think you’d want me to save, and I’ll do it.”

That afternoon, I went through our stuff and gathered several bags worth in valuables and supplies, stacking them up against the front door for easy access. All while I kept a live feed of the situation on the TV. I didn’t know what to expect, to be honest. Up until that point, it hadn’t hit me that I lived in a “fire zone”. Thankfully, there was barely even a breeze, and I heard the hum of a cropduster-style aircraft flying in and out above my house. Once I had all of our important things gathered, I stepped outside once again to watch the fire. 

I clambered up onto the roof of my Xterra with a shitty pair of binoculars and watched that little cropduster fly in and out from the north, dumping water onto the fire each time in came in from Bear Creek Lake. Meanwhile, I could see the flashing lights of emergency vehicles inching along the hogback ahead of the fire, spraying small hoses of water at it while other crews chopped away dead foliage away from the flames, so that the fire could be contained. 

It was a Monday afternoon, and I didn’t know if I wanted to go to writer’s or not. I mean… I didn’t want to leave my dogs home by themselves. But, my neighbors were aware of the situation, and promised to rescue my dogs if, for some ungodly reason, I couldn’t get to them myself. Thankfully, that never happened. 

By the time it was time for me to leave, the hogback fire was almost 100% contained, and there was hardly a breeze in the air. I figured if the winds got bad again and the fire somehow managed to breach containment, I could make it home in time to rescue Penny and Hunter, and get the hell out of dodge. 

I headed to writer’s, taking some time to watch the fire from the intersection of Continental Divide Road and Chatfield Avenue. The hogback was smoldering, with little points of flickering orange lights all across it. Thank God there was no wind, because that fire was sparky! Dried sage and yucca tend to do that, you know. Ahead of the fire was a line of emergency vehicles, watching the fire to ensure it didn’t spread any further. I was so mesmerized by the scene that I almost missed the first green light. But, I figured I could do some more fire spotting from a better spot after writer’s.