BeachHead

She said: Our friend Alie and I planned to go for a hike today.  At around noon, we went online and selected a dog-friendly trailhead to aim for in the Anaheim Hills.  We picked up Brin (her dog) and set out southeast on the 91 Freeway, looking forward to an afternoon hike, canteloupe on the trail, playing with the dog, and a few hours in the sun.  After about 15 miles we started to see some strange cloud formations.  No...wait....it was looking like smoke.  "Huh.  That looks like the direction we're headed," said Alie thoughtfully.  A few more miles, and we were still headed toward the smoke. 

"That's, um....looking just like where we're heading.  That would be a weird coincidence," I said, an edge in my voice.  At this point the smoke wasn't just white and gray -- it was getting orange and black, too.  Quite beautiful, actually.  I fished in the backpack for her camera and started taking pictures.

We kept getting closer to our exit.  "Weir Canyon - that's us!"  The smoke was now billowing orange, black and silver from above the hill that we were aiming for.  We followed the directions: up Weir Canyon, right on Serrano... aiming for Hidden Canyon Road, but couldn't get there because police had barricaded it. The fire was big, and getting bigger.  This photo from today's LA Times (credit: Myung J. Chun) is of a flushed rat crossing the exact road we were aiming for.  If we'd been a few hours earlier and had been hiking in the hills when the fire broke out....who knows what would have happened!  I don't even want to contemplate the possibilities. 

For the pyros among you, dear readers, let me go into a little more detail (and I will upload the photos from Alie's camera soon): the police were routing all traffic at the barricade into an adjacent neighborhood.  I jumped out of the car to take more pictures, and Alie parked.  We met up, and joined a growing crowd of people on the sidewalk and open area adjacent to a reservoir.  The reservoir, in fact, where 3 choppers were filling up with water and making runs to the fire.  One of the choppers had the bucket on the bottom that had to be dragged along the water to fill.  Once full and in the air, the forward force made the bucket swing back like a pendulum stuck at one end of its path.  It would only hang more freely once its load had been dropped. The other two choppers had hoses hanging from their bellies.  These choppers lowered themselves down, almost touching the water, and used the hose to suck water up into their bellies.  They'd then pull out, fly up out of the reservoir, swoop over our heads with their whoppa-whoppa-whoppa and up to the hill where they'd discharge and make a quick return.

This experience reminded me why we call our firefighters heroes: when they show up you know it's because they're there to help -- and more often than not, they're putting themselves in harm's way.  I called Chris & Patti (the firefighters in my family) to ask why the choppers were dropping water upwind and behind the fire, rather than in front of it, in between the fire and the houses.  They said A) the fire creates its own weather system, with updrafts that can be dangerous for the helicopters and B) by closing down the back of the fire and flanking it on the sides, firefighters can narrow the front of the blaze, aim it away from houses, and force it into dead ends (when the wind isn't working against them).

We were standing what seemed less than a mile from the fire, the light was orange from the smoke filter on the sun, and the wind was blowing so straight and hard that we could barely smell the fire -- it was all blowing straight along the ridgetop, headed for a cluster of houses.  The crowd around us was mostly residents of the community next to the reservoir.  They were on their cell phones talking to friends and family, and taking pictures.  They were no doubt feeling some schadenfreude, glad it wasn't their turn to water down the roof and evacuate. 

After half an hour or so, it looked like our end of the fire was mostly contained, and we set about to leave.  I don't know for sure that the houses we were watching were OK, though I'd like to think so.  But that one wasn't the only blaze today -- we saw at least two more strung out along the ridgetops and canyons of Anaheim Hills.  It was a 90 degree day with 5% humidity and high fire risk.  More of the same tomorrow, and any spark could start it right up again.  On the one hand, I wish good luck and safety to those affected.  On the other, I can't help but think that's what insurance is for...you knew the risks if you built or bought a house there...and Mama always wins.