BNOSRSt. Francis Trail

Ice and Fire

BNOSRSt. Francis Trail
Ice and Fire
“Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.”
— Robert Frost

Yesterday, January 5 2022, the weather forecast said that temperatures were dropping from 35 to 5. I decided to trek up the hill behind my house—the so-called “St. Francis Trail”—before the cold arrived.

As I trudged up the crunchy, frozen trail, a few snowflakes fluttered on the breeze, like glitter on a Christmas card. A hawk sailed across the sky, hovering over dry, windblown grass. Only days before, in other parts of the city, grass such as this had fueled the most damaging fire in Colorado history.

The Marshall Fire.

A week ago, Thursday, my sister texted me, “You being evacuated? U ok?” I had no idea what she meant. Looking out my bedroom window that afternoon, I saw only dust billowing in the air. No smoke, no fire. Then my brother texted, “Do you have a go bag and a mask?” I looked the other direction out the window, toward downtown Superior, and saw a huge cloud of smoke. I started packing.

Some years ago, I had assembled a small box with a few basic essentials: passport, spare keys, medicines, a copy of a house payment. Now I grabbed that box out of the drawer, along with a change of clothes, toothbrush, and my computer.

The reverse-911 pre-evacuation order came a few minutes later. I threw my stuff in the car and headed north, toward my mom’s house.

A mile later, along 76th Street, a line of cars approached Avista Hospital. A huge cloud of smoke billowed across the road. Traffic crawled slowly toward it. I thought, this is not a good idea. I turned around and headed back south, toward Coalton Road. Better to drive away from the fire.

As it turns out, even the hospital had evacuated.

Heading north toward Avista Hospital.

People were driving frantically, panic in their eyes. On Coalton Road, near the Flatiron Crossing Mall, fire trucks and ambulances dodged through traffic. A line of 20 police cars from Denver, Arvada, Louisville, and Lafayette sped westward toward Superior.

Driving east, I could see traffic jams on the major thoroughfares: US 36, Highway 287. I navigated along side-streets, through neighborhoods. Got to my mom’s in 30-40 minutes. I heard later that some people took 30 minutes just to get out of Superior.

At my mom’s house, we watched the fire on the news. Friends and family texted, emailed, and phoned: are you ok? how is the house? what’s happening?

❅

Hiking to the top of the ridge today, a week after the fire, I gazed back north, toward the burn. The neighborhood below me was entirely intact. On the other side of Coalton, the Safeway grocery store had just re-opened, having hired a tanker truck to supply clean water. East of the Safeway, Boulder County sheriffs were checking identification for cars entering Superior, to prevent looting. To the west, near Superior Community Park, every house next to the park had burned to the foundation.

Looking southwest across US 36 toward Superior.

❅

Friday, January 31, 2021

My thermostat app alerted me that my house was 50°F, despite the furnace running for six hours continuously. All the smoke detectors were green. To some extent, this was good news: it meant that the house was intact, and it had electricity and wifi. The fact that the inside temperature was 50° meant either that the gas was shut off, or a window was open. Later text messages from the Boulder Office of Emergency Management and Xcel Energy confirmed it was the former. But that day, New Year’s Eve, I had no idea.

A blizzard rolled in. Roads were icy and treacherous.

I got the reverse-911 clearance to return home.

My mom and I hopped in the car and headed out. We had heard that Red Cross was giving away space heaters, so we headed toward the distribution site at Lafayette Recreation Center. On arrival, they told us to continue north, to the actual distribution site, at Highway 287 and Arapahoe. We seemed to be following 3-4 other cars heading the same way. Upon reaching the Safeway shopping center at 287&Arapahoe, we found a huge semi filled with space heaters, water, and cheerful Red Cross volunteers smiling in the blizzard.

They loaded a couple of space heaters into my trunk, and told me to come back if I needed water or anything else.

Back on the road, numerous closures forced us to take a circuitious route back to my house. Apple Maps announced that we were entering a fire danger zone: be cautious! Then it advised that our route passed through a winter storm warning area: Drive carefully!

As the sun set and darkness fell, we headed west on South Boulder Road. The optimal route along McCaslin was closed because of the fire. We headed into Boulder, turned east onto US 36, and drove toward Flatiron Crossing mall. Numerous cars had stalled or were stuck in the snow on the steep hill out of Boulder. I saw several cars with spinning tires, trying to get up the hill.

We eventually made it to Flatiron Crossing Mall, then Coalton Road, and back to Superior.

My house was intact, with no broken windows. The thermostat said 40-something. We placed one space heater in the basement, near the hot water heater, the other on the main floor in the middle of the house. I turned off the fireplace gas, unplugged a few appliances, and turned out the lights.

Hopped in the car to return to my mom’s.

“I get by with a little help from my friends”
— Lennon and McCartney

Saturday, January 1, 2022

Xcel messaged that they were working “around the clock” to turn on the gas, house by house. The message indicated that someone must be home to let Xcel inside, where they would do a “re-light” of the furnace and water heater. I received conflicting messages about the gas: Superior said to call Xcel, Xcel said don’t call. I called anyway and eventually reached a human, who informed me they had people working on it, and it might take several days to get the gas back online. They had no firm timeline.

I drove back home to wait for Xcel, following a snowplow down Sheridan Parkway. The blizzard had stopped, and roads were a little better than the night before.

Back home, the space heaters had raised the house temperature to 50°F. I donned two jackets, a winter hat, and light gloves, and made a pot of coffee as I sat down to wait. Friends continued to call and text, graciously offering assistance.

First D came over, armed with an electric oil radiator. This immediately warmed the house even more.

Next came D2 with another space heater, hand warmers, and candy. He helped me configure the thermostat to run the house fan once an hour, and circulate the heat.

Finally, T&S:B brought a Tupperware container of crock-pot black-eyed peas and ham, along with two more space heaters. The house temp rose to the high 50’s.

That evening around 9pm, power suddenly shut off. Neighbors came out of their houses, illuminated only by the flashing lights of an Xcel truck parked 5-6 houses down the street. The Xcel guy said he couldn’t turn on the gas without electrical power to spark the pilot lights.

Thankfully, power came back on 10-15 minutes later. I returned home, watched TV until 2am, then gave up and went to sleep.

❅

Sunday, January 2, 2022

When I woke the next morning, the house temperature was between 58 and 62. Xcel arrived at 9am: “Are you guys ready for some gas?” He looked tired.

❅

Today

As I hike back down the hill today, I am beyond grateful for all the help and support I received from friends and family. My neighborhood was fortunate: none our homes burned. If the wind had blown a little left instead of right, our houses would be gone.

Burned out foundations near Superior Community Park.

I and my neighborhood were lucky: we have our homes, with light, heat, water, safety. Thousands of others have been devastated by this fire, forced into a years-long struggle to rebuild their lives.

If you want to help, I’ve included links below to some of the websites with more information about the recovery effort.

Thanks for reading, and for all your support.

Links and Information

For information about how you can help, please visit: