My Crazy Firestorm Weekend

This weekend has been totally weird, especially since just this last Sunday my pal Tony and I went out to Ranchita off the S22 (near Warner Springs) and bagged The Thimble (magnificent little desert peak, BTW) and it was from there that we noticed the early smoke coming from the Santa Ysabel/Ramona area (where we had just driven through that morning, and all we’d seen was one of those water-dropping helis, no fires, no smoke). So we scrambled around for a while, through the old charred stands of trees and bushes from the last big firestorm, now re-greening beautifully, and despite the raging wind (it was so strong on that ridge it could choke you). It made us think about how hard it must have been for the firefighters to beat that blaze, through the rough terrain, soft, sinking soil, and steep slopes. Once we had finished the Thimble, we decided to get back down to the car … determined to get Tony his apple pie before they closed the roads. San Ysidro peak and several other yummy looking rockpiles were beckoning but pie was a priority. Well whaddya know?, the road back into San Ysabel was closed (no pie!) and we had to drive out an alternate route to get home, through all kinds of dead-stop traffic in Mt. Palomar and Valley Center areas (places now scorched to a cinder). It took us like 2 hours to get back and the only saving grace was we had an audio book (Bill Bryson’s Thunderbolt Kid, excellent, BTW).

Then that night Jack and I ended up driving out to “rescue” Tony since his motorcycle died (he’d left the accessories on during our hike), which involved a shopping trip to Target for jumper cables and a nice dinner stop at Rubios. Eventually, we had his bike up and running and then we went home… we slept restlessly as the wind shrieked around San Elijo Hills… woke up around 1am and decided to pack evac stuff. There were firetrucks and police cars zipping up and down the major road by our complex and we could see that lots of our neighbors were up too. Our timing was perfect because as soon as we’d finished packing and had started wondering what to do next, the sheriff drove through our neighborhood telling us through his PA system, with the lights going and the siren blaring, about the mandatory evacuation. It was kind of freaky having to make that decision to leave… we hadn’t packed up our toys in the garage because there is just too much … scuba, ski, snowboard, camping, backpacking, rockclimbing, mountain biking gear, housekeeping appliances and laundry, etc… it would have taken a truckload to evac that stuff … so it was just us and our passports, a few clothes, computers/electronics, and our cats. I kept thinking about my skis and my snowboard and wondering if we’d make it to ski season and then I’s see some minivan drive by with little kids bikes and stuff strapped to the roof and it was all I could do not to drive back through the blockades and load up all 6 tons of our toys in the Xterra.  Everyone was really calm and orderly driving out and we went to Tony’s place, a little keyed up and worried about our place. Eventually, exhaustion won over and we fell asleep, a few hours here and there, waking to check the news, etc. It wasn’t until 7pm that an obscure local blog announced that the evac had been lifted for our area and we could go back. The fire was contained and there were rumors that it had come close, but these weren’t true. 80 firefighters and 25-35 fire trucks had doused the fire very quickly, before it topped 300 acres. For the next 48 hours, we watched the news almost constantly (except for a few movies), a little nervous about fires in the next major canyon system south of us (Lake Hodges/Del Dios); the wind died down last night though and we are fine now. I went to see the ocean this morning and was surprised at how calm and clear it was… could even smell it (instead of fire). How odd to be peakbagging in a major hotpocket from the last firestorm, then to be surrounded by fire for a few days, evacuated, then everything is already back to normal, and this whole city is gradually getting back on its feet. Here I am downtown, looking out the window at the smoky air and thinking about surfing.

No sandwich

I walked all the way down to Vietnamese Sandwich today

Been wanting to go for weeks

8 blocks

it was hotter than usual

I was really hungry

I finally found it, 3 blocks after I gave up looking
the sandwich place only takes cash

no cash

feet hurt

hungry

went to Ciro’s pizza instead

they were grumpy

they take plastic

they put my pizza in a paper sack

loose like it was groceries

I walked all the way back

8 blocks

elevator smells like garlic now

pizza was ok

my feet hurt and I’m sweating now

all because Vietnamese sandwich doesn’t take plastic

Flightpath

From where I sit on the eighteenth floor
staring out at the world from my desk
masked behind the vacant eye of a tinted glass window
anonymous and unseen, a small cog in a vast machine
I watch the planes fly into our city airport
their shadows hovering through the treetops of the city park
glancing off the sides of buildings, rumbling and making the shy shake
sometimes lumbering through the marine layer
like whales beaching in whitewater, lolling in a gravity trance
Big planes, hulking and somehow weightless
mechanical wonders of metal and combustible fuel
wires and blinky lights and turbines and plastic
loaded with people and their precious suitcases, packed to bursting
with toiletries and dirty socks and crisply starched white shirts
planes carefully delivering their soft cargo to terra firma
Occasionally a small private plane follows this same flightpath
comparatively petite, puny even, 15 passengers tops
small porthole windows and tiny landing gear
thin wings like leaves in the wind, buzzing by softly, like crickets
loaded with high-ranking executives, celebrities, dignitaries
peering imperiously out of windows at our cityscape, probably feeling
slightly superior, coddled in cushy, oversize captain’s chairs
waited on by sleek women in short skirts
all 15 of them oblivious to how small and vulnerable they look
from here.