Pandemic, Heat Wave, Fire

Sun rising through smoke, Thursday morning, from Santa Cruz Municipal Wharf

"If you think things cannot possibly get worse, trust me -- they can." 

                                                                                         --- Michelle Obama

Last week we suffered a depleting heat wave in Santa Cruz with temperatures as high as 105-degrees. Sheltering under the constraints of the Covid pandemic, we hunkered further down and accepted our sweltering medicine. Then early Sunday morning, between midnight and the first light of day, a swirling windstorm woke us up, coupled with frequent flashes of lightning.

Some of our friends jumped out of bed and went outside to capture photos of the rare sight of lightning strikes in local skies. Many of these shots were shared and posted on social media. 

Given the dry conditions in our region of California, our first thought was fire! However, reports and graphic models indicated that the numerous lightning strikes were over water, although as close as seven miles away. That seemed somewhat reassuring.

Next we heard that a fire had started south of Salinas, as well as another much farther south in California.

Tuesday night we retired, feeling no worse, even slightly uplifted after watching the nominating roll call presented as part of the virtual Democratic Convention. Both Barbara and I commented on the votes coming from various parts of the country, from real people in their unique settings, from Maine to Marianna Islands. Who could not smile when two guys from Rhode Island called their state the "comeback calamari state."

It was a visual reminder of the breadth of our unique, melting-pot nation. When West Virginia came on the screen I was reminded of my road trip across the country in 1973 in a Volkswagen bus. Of all my travels, that one stands out as my favorite.

We rode the old highways and visited small towns and big cities, staying primarily at campgrounds, sometimes just outside of the cities, including Salt Lake, Tulsa, Memphis, Louisville, Kentucky and Charleston, West Virginia. We met locals and travelers just like us, young people coming from all directions.

The people we met were friendly and helpful and we spoke the same language, save for some regional drawls and inflections.

When I woke up on Wednesday, still reminiscing about our land voyage over mountains and rivers, I was dumbstruck to find a blanket of ashen confetti covering our back patio, our cars and sidewalks. I had never seen anything like this. Not in Santa Cruz.

I turned on the news and checked social media to discover that a lightning fire, Lightning Complex CZU, was burning north of Davenport, 11 miles away, moving south toward Santa Cruz. There were also two fires south of Santa Cruz, one near Carmel Valley. The light outside was a muted yellow-grey. The sun a scarlet orb in a smoke-filled sky, the air smelled of burnt ash.

Today it is worse. Friends are evacuating their homes. Forty-thousand acres of forest are burning, uncontained. Many are seeking refuge with friends and in Santa Cruz hotels and inns. We have small cottage under construction that we've offered to a couple of friends, if needed.

At a press conference this morning, County Fire Protection officials emphasized that if asked to evacuate, do so, for your safety and that of the firefighters. The forests under siege have stored "fuel" from years of not burning. There is no containment. It is a unique and unknown incident.

Our roads are fairly quiet. Smoke is heavy. Ash is falling like light snow. Neighbors are comparing the situation to the Loma Prieta Earthquake of 1989 that literally demolished our downtown.

Barbara washed a load of laundry this morning and didn't realize that the drain hose was not fitted to the outflow pipe, due to ongoing construction in our adjacent cottage. Water was soon flooding our garage, half of which is used for storage.

We spent the morning mopping up water and removing boxes, tools, sports equipment, household goods, bicycles, water heater, art supplies and more onto our patio where ash covers everything.

What's next? Evacuation?

Remember the good ole days, before Covid and Trump, when everybody liked each other, all we had to worry about was an earthquake.

Last Wave

Friday, August 21: Yesterday afternoon the prevailing winds shifted and the CZU Lightning Complex fire raged toward Scotts Valley and Felton rather than moving closer to the city of Santa Cruz, where many evacuees have taken refuge.

In addition to most of Scotts Valley, Felton, Paradise Park and Zayante, the campus of UC Santa Cruz has been evacuated. Davenport was also evacuated but appears not to have burned at this point.

We have packed a few essentials and are ready to go if necessary.

Today morning fog mixed with the smoke early, resulting in blank grey skies. Ash covers everything outdoors and streets are practically empty. The moisture supposedly helps, although the stench of smoke remains. Air quality is "poor."

Tourists and visitors have been asked to leave Santa Cruz County.

The fire is still 0% contained, mostly burning in hilly, forested terrain. Additional firefighters have arrived bringing the total number to about one-thousand, but still not enough. More than 50,000 acres have burned.

Greatest devastation has been reported in Big Basin State Park, and the communities of Boulder Creek and Bonny Doon.

The total number of homes and buildings lost so far is still unknown.