Wildfire

Near Del Dios Highway in the Rancho Santa Fe Area
(Image: Reuters/Mario Anzuoni)

For many, the California wildfires are as distant as, well, the Iraq war [not that the comparison of lives lost is even analogous]. Call it a case of human nature, "out of sight, out of mind," or "if its not in my backyard, then it doesn't affect me," but people could sooner come up with the lyrics to Michael Murphey's song, Wildfire, than describe one.

[Yes, your neighbor just heard you belt out the refrain]

So to "put a face" on what's happening on the left coast, I asked my friend and fellow cyclist, Kathleen King (inset), to share her experiences. As you'll read, she is one of the fortunate ones, but for so many others their ordeals are just beginning.

San Diego, CA - In San Diego's North County the PCH (Pacific Coast Highway 101) runs right along the beach past world famous surf breaks. The bike paths on either side are precious ground to thousands of cyclists who enjoy its gentle cliff climbs and unhindered straightaways every day. You can see a pro cyclist burn up the pavement while watching a pro surfer take the drop on a perfect wave morning, noon and evening. From the PCH bike paths head east like tributaries leading through rolling hills and canyons, down riverbeds and along lagoons.

Just after noon on Sunday 10/21, I was suited up and ready for my 25 miles on a glorious SoCal day. As I put on my gloves I glanced out the window and saw that strange orange light on the ground, an all too familiar sight. It meant something somewhere was on fire. A moment later, the smell of smoke. Then an enormous gust of wind shook the house. I ran down the stairs and out to the driveway to scan the sky. To my surprise, many of my neighbors were out in the street too. It was hard to look up for all the stuff flying through the air. Already the ashes of what turned out to be Witch Creek had begun to fall. Within minutes the neighborhood had filled with smoke that darkened the sky. My bike ride plans were done. One last cyclist - backpack, T-shirt, rode past eastward battling a 35 mph headwind choking on the dirty air, desperate to get home.

An eerie stillness settled on North County as we sat inside, glued to the TV for each update. Somehow we knew this one was different. Then the Fire Chief said it: with near hurricane force winds and humidity at -2 "...this one could roll to the sea..."

When you grow up in a place, even the size of San Diego, every community name has a face connected to it, folks with elderly parents, small children, horses, pets, gardens, art... You watch the maps and wonder if they are packing up, if they got their animals out OK. You hope your phone doesn't ring with a reverse 911 call to tell you to be ready. But you pack anyway. You all call each other and wait. No one sleeps.

Ironically, my "Harden the F--- Up" wristband arrived in the mail (the postman wore a particle mask) the day I got that call to evacuate. There were rumors all night about house fires a mile over the hill but they never materialized and we were allowed to go back home. For so many others, people I know personally, the nightmare is only beginning. I count among my blessings this morning that I awoke in my own bed and that my house has not been burned to the ground. I have hot and cold running water for my shower and electricity to make my breakfast. The markets and restaurants down the road are open and ready to provide whatever I need. Many, not ten miles away can't say these things.

But help has been arriving from all directions since the ordeal began and continues to be lavished on this region. We are all grateful for their boundless generosity. The fires are going out one by one. The lessons of Katrina, thankfully, have been learned. The recovery from this disaster will be swift in comparison.

Torrey Pines State Beach in Del Mar
(Image: Kathleen King)

For now the sky is still brown. The beloved bike lanes remain empty. The "particulate matter" in the air is not just unpleasant, it’s toxic. So the devotees of two wheels wait to add bike rides back to their list of blessings. It won't be long.