Fire chased us out but we made it back … ‘this time’

In a matter of minutes, these Santa Lucia Mountains went from quiet woodlands to deafening war zone. Engines. Water tenders and heavy fire equipment rumbled by. Loud aircraft circled above and below us. Hillsides and ravines were bombarded with tons of fire retardant. Despite all efforts, the fire’s appetite was insatiable.

From lookouts and windows that face Lake Nacimiento, mountain residents had front-row seats at a spectacular real-time drama called the Chimney Fire.

In the dark, monstrous flare-ups stroked the stars. The light that was created by hungry orange flames illuminated miles of heavy fuel and flickered on the walls like a horror movie. The trees in front of the fire were silhouettes; helpless shadowy figures that shrieked as they were devoured alive by the ravenous blaze.

By dawn, an ominous layer of smoke obscured the surroundings and kept us housebound and anxious. The reddish-brown haze prevented visual assessment in regard to distance from the danger that was nearing our doorsteps.

When the smoke lifted with the wind, we could see that the fire had continued to feast its way past retardant drops, distinguishable by the rows and patches of dark pink treetops.

Extraordinary to behold firsthand, the approaching firestorm both enlivened and disheartened.

The flames gobbled overabundant vegetation toward the bottom of Carroll Canyon directly below. From there it was all uphill — fire’s favorite direction of travel.

Time to evacuate!

Animal carriers, to-go bags and vehicles were filled to capacity. Shortly thereafter, there was a trail of swirling dust and red taillights headed toward safer ground. For some of us, the following days were spent away from the comforts of home where we tried not to agonize over the potential loss of everything we’d worked for our entire adult lives. During that difficult time, supportive and amazing friends and family extended gracious hospitality to evacuees of every shape, size and species. We can’t thank our hostesses/hosts enough.

Two weeks later, I returned home to find that I was one of the lucky ones.

“You made it,” a firewoman said and then added, “this time.”

This time, unlike the July 1960 Weberling Fire, it was only a few acres of woods that burned on our family’s property. No more than my bulldozed satellite internet cable was in need of repair.

Today, daily whiffs of fresh smoke on the breeze remind us to be aware and appreciative of all the resources that were sent to protect us. We continue to express our gratitude to the many agencies and personnel, who fought a gallant battle and who, to this day, remain on scene to perform various tasks.

Now that much of the landscape resembles the black-and-white photography of Ansel Adams, is the Chimney Fire over? No. Recovery takes time. Even after a declaration of 100 percent containment there is much to do. In the meantime, several weeks after ignition (Aug. 13), we strive to resume our tranquil lives and evolve toward a new normal.

This story was originally published September 14, 2016 at 9:02 AM with the headline "Fire chased us out but we made it back … ‘this time’."