Thursday, December 30 2021
The day started off mundane enough. We were nearing the end of winter break. Initially we had planned to go to Jackson Hole, WY this week, but I had goofed and not gotten the boys’ lift tickets soon enough, and they sold out. So to make up for it, I had tried to plan several in-town activities. We had spent the first part of the week at our condo in Keystone, but had returned home to Superior Tuesday evening. Today’s only planned outing was to see the new Spiderman movie at the theater down the street from our house.
By mid-morning, it had become extremely windy. The I-think-it-may-blow-out-the-windows kind of windy. Gusts nearing 100mph. We had experienced a couple of days like that in the past few weeks. Our new house sits up high, on the end of a building of townhouses, and has several big, exposed windows on the west side. I wasn’t quite as nervous about them blowing out now, as they had survived a few intense wind-days already. But it was still something to see – one of many things I love about the new place is that I actually CAN see what’s going on outside, with all the windows that we didn’t have before.
I mentioned that it was good we didn’t have any plans outside today, but Brian was a little bummed because he had thought he might go for a run later. Despite being cool outside, the sun had quickly begun heating up the downstairs, and at one point I opened a window. Brian quickly chastised me for that decision and closed it, which we would be grateful for later.
After an early lunch at home, we left for the movie theater. We were in a bit of a rush, and I slacked a little on my usual clean-up before leaving, there were still plates on the table and dishes in the sink. We’d be back soon enough, I’d deal with it later that afternoon.
A while into the movie, I got a strange alert on my watch. (I had just gotten a new Fitbit smartwatch for Christmas, and it alerts me to texts and emails, even though I had put my phone on silent, like a good movie-goer.) It was something from Boulder County about evacuations due to wildfire, but I couldn’t see much detail on my tiny watch screen, and of course didn’t want to pull out my phone in the middle of the movie. I assumed it couldn’t be related to our area. Boulder County is large, and includes a lot of wooded, mountainous terrain that would be prone to such things.
But at least one said it was a reverse-911, weren’t those more location specific? I still thought it was unlikely to be anything we needed to worry about, but it was stressful enough that I was having a hard time concentrating on the movie. There was a lot more movement inside the theater than normal, lots of people coming and going, and some that never came back. I was starting to get nervous. I had just decided that I needed to step outside and check my phone, when the movie turned off and the lights came back on.
I knew then. It had to be the fire and it had to be close. I was frantically trying to explain to the rest of the family what I had been seeing on my watch, and that we needed to go now. Before we were even down the steps and out of our theater, I realized I could already smell smoke. Out in the lobby it was chaos. There were no announcements, no information, no direction, just confusion.
As we got closer to the doors, we could see the apocalyptic scene outside. The smoke was looming all around us. A large plume rising to the west, straight down Flatirons/Coalton Blvd – right where our house was. And the entire northern half of the sky was smoke, not even a plume, it was just enveloping us. Above us, around us, everywhere. Dear god, if a fire had gotten loose in the crazy wind (which it obviously had), it could level the town in under an hour. We were trying to stay calm and focused, but panic was starting to take hold.
I immediately started coughing from the smoke, before we were even outside. But we ran anyway. As fast as we could, to the car. Everyone was running now. A line of police cars and firetrucks were racing through the parking lot in front of us, sirens blaring. I don’t even know how many, they just kept coming.
They were trying to direct traffic on the main roads, but it was a standstill. Brian was driving and I was trying desperately to get information on my phone. But it was so hard to breathe. Coughing fits kept coming and my throat was on fire. SO much smoke. It didn’t help that my heart was racing and my hands were shaking, so hard to concentrate on what needed to be done. I think at some point during this I managed to make a harried Facebook post about the fact that we were evacuating. We had to try a couple of different exits from the mall parking lot before we found a place that we could actually get out.
All I had managed to find out so far was that all of Superior was under mandatory evacuation, and that there were multiple fires. No wonder it felt like we were boxed in on almost every side by the smoke.
I should have checked my phone sooner, and gotten us out of there. I was mentally kicking myself. I had assumed that the theater wouldn’t just let us sit in there and burn, but shouldn’t have counted on that. In thinking back on the situation later, I was quite appalled that they waited so late to get us out. And in a place where they knew most people didn’t even have their phones turned on to get the notifications themselves. It was completely irresponsible. And now we were trapped with the fire seemingly surrounding us.
There was a desperate Facebook post by the Boulder OEM saying to flee north or east. But north looked to be the worst of it from where we were. The only clear patch of sky we could see was to the southeast.
Most people seemed to be trying to reach Hwy 36, but no one could go anywhere. We decided to try to slip out through Interlocken instead. I work back there, and it’s part of Brian’s usual running/scootering route, so we were familiar enough with it to wind through parking lots and side streets, and get out of the congestion on the main roads.
We still had no idea what was going on. Where the fire was, which way it was headed, the smoke just kept growing. It was tense, and we all probably snapped at each other more than we should have during those 15 minutes of terror. Trying to figure out which way to go, how to make sense of the little information we were getting.
Once we got through Interlocken and out onto Hwy 128, the air was a little clearer. And there was a steady stream of cars, but not the gridlock we had been in before. Most of the traffic was going the other direction, which made us question our plan a bit, but from here I could see where the smoke was coming from and felt confident that we were headed to safety. So we stuck with it. We were currently headed west, which was technically towards the thickest smoke, but it was now north of us – traveling parallel to it.
From the ridge along Hwy 128, we could now see the smoke plume covering most of the city. It looked like it had started in the open space down the street from us, but there were surely houses burning now from the looks of it. I thought I could just barely make out our street from up there, and it wasn’t quite in the smoke cloud yet, but frighteningly close.
We turned south on Indiana, and there we hit traffic again. It was moving, just very slowly. I had started to relax a little, feeling like we were out of immediate danger. Though we were watching the smoke get thicker and closer behind us, felt a little like we were being chased.
The wind was still ripping, debris flying through the air all around us. No wonder the fire had spread so quickly. We may have escaped the wildfire, but worried we would now get taken out by a falling traffic light. Several of them were already dangling precariously.
Around this time, the car alerted us to the fact that we were almost out of gas. Seriously??? Tried to stay calm, we were far enough away now, we could spare a couple of minutes to fill up. We knew of a gas station where Indiana ends at 64th. But everything down there was out of power! Was that related to the fire, or just the wind?
We kept going and eventually managed to find one that was open. While Brian pumped, I made a desperate trip inside to stock up on what food I could manage to carry – sandwiches, fruit, water, etc. I had no specific plan for it, but I also didn’t know what the next few hours would hold for us. I don’t know if the lady checking me out noticed that I was still shaking, but she quietly mentioned that she was just sick watching the fires to the north, and I told her we were evacuating, and that’s why I was stocking up on food. She wished us well, and to be safe.
Until this point, our only goal had been our immediate safety, and getting to a place where the fire was not. But what now? It seemed highly unlikely we would be going back home tonight, if we still had a home to go to at all. So we decided to head to our place in Keystone.
Unfortunately, we had been out in Brian’s new car, the Taos. It does have AWD (we would never consider anything that doesn’t, living in Colorado.) But we hadn’t put snow tires on it yet. We always take the Outback when we come to the mountains. I had generally seen that there was snow coming to the mountains today and tomorrow, but the Taos was what we had, and it made the most sense. Afterall, we had supplies there. Clothes, toiletries, charger cables, food.
I had checked in with my parents by phone and text to let them know we were evacuated and safe, but couldn’t talk long because we were still working out logistics. We were close to Hwy 56 – we planned to take that east to I-70. It was a route we used to take all the time, until discovering that we actually prefer taking Hwy 93. But the intersection was blocked, flashing lights everywhere. What now?? We thought we had escaped the worst of it.
As we got closer we could see two semis, overturned on the overpass. But we could still get on going west, so we’d make that work. Driving down the on-ramp, we saw another semi truck speeding through the other direction. It was on fire. So many things that, in isolation, would have seemed like a big deal. But all we could muster was a quick “huh”, and move on. Brian later said it felt like the scene in War of the Worlds where they are trying to escape and everything everywhere is going wrong, but they don’t have time to deal with it.
As we headed into the mountains, we realized two rather immediate problems. Brian didn’t have his medicine with him. At least one of them was rather time-sensitive and dangerous to skip, and he would need it tonight. We also didn’t have a parking permit for our condo building, because we keep it in the Outback. We’ve actually complained about the lack of consistent parking enforcement there, but it was a holiday week. And they probably were checking. Just our luck we’d get towed after fleeing a fire.
Brian’s mom called as we were coming into Silverthorne, having obviously been concerned about seeing the news of the fire and evacuations, and was relieved to know we were safe. We planned to stop at Walgreens in Dillon, to see if they could help us with Brian’s medicine. As we came into Dillon it was just starting to get dark, and I saw the power go out on the south side of Hwy 6. All of it. Why was the power out here?? We were 70 miles from the fire, and there was no significant weather. At least Walgreens was on the north side of the highway, and the lights were still on there.
Luckily, the pharmacist was very kind and understanding, and was able to get us an emergency fill of all his meds while we waited. We wandered the store for a bit while they worked on it. Finally starting to relax, almost feeling euphoric that we had made it this far.
But the one thing I haven’t mentioned yet, that had crossed my mind a few times, but I had refused to give space to take hold, was MinnieLu, our guinea pig. Obviously going back home for her had been out of the question. The one comfort I had had throughout the trip up here was that I was still able to connect to our Nest thermostat on my phone, which meant that house had to still be standing, and MinnieLu safe. But as I checked it in Walgreens, it was now saying “Offline”. Owen was wanting assurance that it was still okay, all I could do was hug him and tell him we had to hope for the best now.
With medicine in hand, we headed on towards Keystone, and thought we would go on into the village to get dinner. But as we got close, realized everything over there was dark – they must be out of power too. How had we already passed our condo building, I didn’t even see it or notice as we drove by. Oh. Because it was dark too. The power outage extended all the way out here.
Not knowing what else to do, we drove on back to our powerless condo, only a few dim emergency lights illuminating the hallway. In my head, I had pictured this as a homecoming filled with warmth and relief. Our haven that would welcome us with safety and comfort, and familiarity. Definitely not this. Instead, we sat there. In the dark. Cold. Hungry. Watching our phones slowly die.
Alternating between wanting to keep them off to conserve power, and wanting to cling to them constantly as our only source of connection and information. We received a Summit County emergency alert that the power outage here was, in fact, due to the fire in Boulder County. They were having to divert power, and said we would have rolling blackouts throughout the night, up to 60 minutes at a time.
It had already been almost that long, so we were hopeful it would be back soon, and we could cook some dinner. But one hour turned into two, and then three. Still nothing. We finally decided to give up waiting and ate some of the sandwiches I had picked up at the gas station. Unfortunately we don’t have a flashlight here, and our phones were nearly dead already.
Information coming in was all over the place. People were already posting photos, videos, and lots of rumors. Had the fire crossed south of Coalton Rd? There were videos of it already in Rock Creek, in the park just across Coalton from us. And rumors that the Safeway had already burned down (which later turned out to be false, thankfully, though the fire was right behind the building.) But if Safeway had already burned, it seemed impossible that it wouldn’t spread just across the street to us. Many were also saying the Calamante, the subdivision just west of us, was burning.
Owen had been holding up pretty well on the way here, but had become very distraught once getting to the condo. He just kept staring at a picture of MinnieLu on his phone and crying quietly. I tried to comfort him as best I could, but I couldn’t give him the only thing he wanted – a guarantee that she was safe.
I wish we hadn’t gone to the movie. I wish we had been home when it happened. We could have brought stuff, including her, with us. (And we could have come in the right car) I wasn’t going to be able to forgive that decision if something happened. We never leave her overnight unless we have a pet sitter checking on her every day. She isn’t used to being alone for a full 24 hours. Even if our house was safe, she must be terrified. My heart sank every time I saw her empty cage. She’s always here with us. She should be here with us now. At the very least, our power was out, since I couldn’t connect to the Nest. And it was getting cold there.
It was also getting cold here in Keystone, and no sign of power here yet either. We tried to settle into bed to get some sleep. But of course it didn’t come easy. The temperature was dropping fast. Our bed is right in a corner with two (old and leaky) windows. One might think, then, that we sleep under a warm, heavy blanket. But our only blanket itself is quite thin – and heated. With electricity. Which we didn’t have. I was kicking myself for a lot of things that day, one of which was not having an adequate supply of non-electric dependent covers on hand.
Trying to force myself to sleep, the thoughts of course ran wild instead. What if our house did burn down? Other than MinnieLu of course, what else was there that I would be upset about losing? We recently downsized, and got rid of a LOT of stuff. The vast majority of what’s in our house is functional, not sentimental. There’s no room for anything else. The few sentimental things I kept are in bins at the storage unit, which was thankfully in the opposite direction of the fire. But I have really been enjoying using my grandmother’s glass canisters in the kitchen. And my antique marimba. That couldn’t be replaced. And logistically difficult things like passports, car titles, etc. But the bigger issue would be the displacement – Owen separated from his friends and community if we had to find temporary housing somewhere else.
As the hours dragged on with still no power, I became convinced that we had a more immediate problem even than the fire. Why wasn’t our power back on here? They said an hour. It had been over 5. There must be a problem. What if it was worse than they thought, and they just couldn’t get it back? A snowstorm was coming in, temps predicted to be below zero. We wouldn’t last long here without heat. And being in the Taos, our ability to drive out might be questionable if the weather was bad.
So many doomsday thoughts floating around in my head. Maybe we should have stayed in town and gotten a hotel room instead. This had seemed like the obvious choice at the time, we didn’t know the misfortune was going to follow us here. Maybe we were just too dependent on infrastructure that we had no control over. And it was going to abandon us now.
I think I was floating in and out of a daze/almost sleep for a few hours. Sometime before midnight (11:30 maybe?) I suddenly became aware of a glow on the other side of the room. The Christmas tree. The lights! They were on!! It was like coming out of a bad dream. We were saved!
I quickly got up and started plugging in everyone’s phone, and ran the thermostat up, might as well build up some heat in case we lost power again. I think I actually managed to get some sleep after that, but according to my fitbit the next morning, it was still the worst night I’d had since getting the watch. (Had my first “failing” sleep score. No surprise.)
Friday, December 31 2021
The morning, which came far too soon given my poor sleep, did bring some relief. From all reliable accounts, it appeared that the fire had not actually crossed Coalton Rd. Some had already snuck back into our neighborhood (against the pleas of authorities) and offered confirmation that the Summit Townhomes were untouched. But the news for the rest of the town was sobering. At least 600 homes confirmed lost, with warning that the total would almost certainly rise as they assessed more neighborhoods. From the pictures and maps posted, it looked like the flames had come within about 500 feet of us, just on the other side of Coalton. Far too close for comfort. One wind gust in the wrong direction, and our whole neighborhood would have been gone.
We made some breakfast, and later a trip to Target to grab some things we had not come prepared with. We also talked to the property management office about our parking pass situation, and they kindly gave us a temporary pass for the Taos, without even mentioning a replacement fee. Large-scale disasters do seem to bring out the kindness and generosity in most.
I also called the Denver Center for the Performing Arts, where we had tickets to the traveling Lion King Broadway show tonight. It was a rescheduled show from when we had originally booked it in Summer 2020. It seemed unlikely that we would be able to make it back for it. Fortunately they were very understanding, and offered us a full refund.
My main concern was still MinnieLu. She was likely safe at the moment, but I didn’t know how much food she had, and worried that it was getting dangerously cold. Heat was not expected to be back for several days. I asked for help in a couple of places on Facebook, and within a few hours, Animal Control got back to me. They of course were out in full force, trying to rescue stranded and lost pets. I couldn’t convince them to actually take her some place warm, but they did give her plenty of food and added some blankets and towels to her cage. I wasn’t sure it would be enough, but I was incredibly grateful for their help, at least.
In the afternoon, the boys decided to go skiing for a few hours. There was fresh snow, and might as well get something out of being up here unexpectedly. So I dropped them off at A-Basin. I had continued to watch for updates, and was surprised to hear, just before I went to pick them up, that they had actually lifted the evacuation for our street.
Could we possibly get back there tonight? There wouldn’t be heat, so we would need to come back here to Keystone to sleep, but we could rescue MinnieLu, and do some mitigation to make sure the pipes didn’t freeze. Or at least give them some hope. Everyone seemed to be on board with that plan, so we quickly got ready to go.
Yeah, there was something about a snowstorm coming in. It had been snowing a bit all day. But it didn’t seem that bad, and the Taos was handling it surprisingly well. Slipped a little in places I didn’t think the Outback would have, but it was making it okay. We would just slip down there, take care of a few things, trade out cars, and be back here in time to watch the ball drop on TV. (It was NYE, afterall). Simple as that.
I should mention here that we are NOT cavalier when it comes to winter driving in the mountains. We actually pride ourselves on always being informed and prepared. Always being objective and making the right decision, based on the information we have. Our car (the Outback at least) is as equipped for winter driving as possible. And it’s a beast. We know the route. We know the alternate routes. We know how to use the CDOT website to analyze road conditions. We know to have emergency supplies in the car at all times.
I’m rather ashamed to say that we didn’t follow any of this. Of course it wasn’t our fault that we didn’t have the Outback. But we could have brought supplies. Food, blankets, the inReach. We could have looked into the warnings that CDOT was already issuing about hazardous travel conditions. We could have stopped to actually consider whether this was too risky to be worth it. But we didn’t. All good sense went right out the window at the revelation that we could possibly solve our two biggest stressors right now.
The first part of the trip actually wasn’t too bad. Snow was falling, road a little slick, but nothing that even the Taos couldn’t handle. I did notice coming up to the tunnel that our time-remaining, according to the navigation, had actually increased since we left. Traffic must be getting worse, not a big deal. As we got closer to Idaho Springs, the map suggested taking Hwy 6 through the canyon, instead of staying on I-70. We’ve taken that route many times to avoid traffic coming into Denver, so it didn’t seem unreasonable. It had just gotten dark.
But as we were coming up to what we knew should be a right turn on the highway, the navigation insisted that we go left. Wouldn’t even provide an alternate route that went right. We could see that traffic was already backed up to the right, that was probably why. We had never gone left here before, but at first glance on the map it seemed to make sense.
We were immediately guided onto a steep, curvy road that looked like it was going to climb the side of the canyon. There was already a foot of snow on the ground, and more falling fast. We passed a car off the road, having slid into the ditch. Then another. And another. And one a couple cars in front of us was stuck in the middle of the road. I think one of the off-the-road-already drivers was trying to help push him. The car in front of us gave up and turned around in the middle of the road to go back down. Almost got stuck and slid off trying. And it was an AWD too.
We had been nervous about this route before, but now we got a little panicky. And made the sudden decision to turn back as well. We should have made it at the first hint of trouble at the bottom of the hill. We later looked up more detail about the road we were on, and it would have been disastrous to continue. There’s almost no way it would have been passable as it climbed higher, and had steep dropoffs that would have made sliding off the road more than an inconvenience.
Why we fell for it in the first place is beyond me. Never take an unfamiliar route in the mountains in the middle of a snowstorm. So many bad decisions tonight. But, we made it back down without incident. But we were feeling a bit shaken, and suddenly wondered if this snowstorm was going to give us more adventure than we wanted.
The map wanted us to now backtrack to the interstate again, but perhaps because we were now annoyed with her for almost getting us killed, we ignored that suggestion and joined the line of traffic on Hwy 6 (that had gone right, instead of left)
It was very slow-going, creeping around the windy path through the canyon. But at first we didn’t mind. At least there couldn’t be a dramatic crash at these speeds. It was about another 12 miles to where Hwy 6 met Hwy 93. Just 12 miles until we were home-free! But with each painfully slow mile, we became more concerned that we might not make it.
It was snowing so hard, getting so deep. So many cars off the road, in the ditch, stuck. One after another. We all held our breath everytime we felt the tires slipping, wondering if this was about to be the end of our journey tonight. It was the most stressful winter driving I’ve ever experienced. (Well, Brian was doing the driving.) The miles crept down so slowly. Watching them go by tenths. At least try to get as close as we can to Hwy 93 before falling off the road, I thought. We might get help faster if we are closer to civilization. Finally we were under a mile. So many close calls, but we were almost there! Surely Hwy 93 would be in better shape.
The map actually suggested a different route – Indiana back into town. Which was almost identical to the way we had come yesterday. We almost did it, but remembered the very steep and long hill you have to climb at the end of Indiana, and were not at all sure we could make it. Hwy 93 has some hills, but they are more rolling than steep.
Our elation at making it out of the canyon to Hwy 93 was short-lived, however. Why we thought that would be the end of our worries, I don’t know. I assumed they would have plowed it. Or that since it was more “in-town” it would be better. But there had been no plows, and plenty of the stretch we had to travel through was still quite rural.
I hadn’t thought it could get more stressful than coming through the canyon. But it did. A few brave souls were adventuring this road with us tonight. And many of them – not making it. We came so close to not making it. So many times. Sliding towards the ditch, panicking. Thinking this was it, just hoping for a soft landing. Cursing the fact that we hadn’t even brought extra jackets. Or food. Owen had already said he was hungry as we were leaving town, we told him we’d find food at home, he could wait another hour. Might be waiting all night.
Several times we passed large vehicles (RVs, campers, box trucks, trailers) that were flipped over at odd angles on the side of the road. I suspect they were victims of yesterday’s windstorm, unrelated to the snow. But it was creepy. Seeing their silhouettes suddenly emerge in the darkness. Like coming up on a sunken ship in the ocean.
Again we were watching the miles creep down until our next turn. Onto a highway that I suspected could be more treacherous than this one, if that was possible. I now knew that driving back to Keystone tonight was out of the question. And our house was likely too cold to sleep in. I should have already been scouring the internet for a nearby hotel room, but it was seeming far more likely that we wouldn’t be making it back into town at all, and was resigned to being stuck on the side of the road at some point. Hopefully not injured.
What in the world had I gotten us into? Why in the world had I thought this was an okay thing to do? I had put our whole family in grave danger to take care of a few (now-seemingly) minor issues. The guilt was intense. And the stress. I don’t think my heart rate has ever stayed that elevated for that long, in the absence of any physical exercise. It was exhausting, physically and mentally.
With so many moments when all hope seemed lost, I don’t know how we managed to escape each and every one. What astounds me looking back was that there wasn’t one or two tricky spots that almost got us, the danger was constant. We would recover from one close-call, just to be in the middle of another. They just kept coming. For hours.
Somehow we made it to our turn at Hwy 128, that we had used to escape the fire just yesterday. The western part of it, which we had to traverse this time, is very hilly and windy. And steep. It didn’t even seem possible that we could navigate it tonight. But the only other route into town was through the worst of the burn-area, and still closed. My only hope was that the evacuation instructions for re-entry had specifically said to use Hwy 128. Maybe they had prepared for this and plowed it?
Indeed, we saw two plow trucks as we were coming up to the turn! Sadly, they immediately turned back towards Hwy 93. The abandonment I felt at that moment was devastating. Why would they not plow the road for us?? We were so close now. Within 10 miles. But they would probably be the hardest 10 miles of the trip.
Again, a few cars were trying the same thing. And again, a lot of them were not making it. Again, we held our breath, willing the car to get us through these last few miles. More panicky moments when it started to fail. But again, somehow pulled through. I don’t know what force in the universe we had pleased or how, but it just seemed impossible that we managed to get out of every single near-disaster. (Someone give Brian an award for snow-driving!)
We finally, miraculously made it into the neighborhood. Police cars still everywhere, blocking off all but the few streets we were allowed to be on. At least if something happened now, help was close by. And the relief we felt when we finally pulled into the garage (of our not-burned-down-house), the car and its inhabitants still in one piece, though shaken, was immeasurable. I think we may have all been crying a little. The trip had taken a little over 4 hours, instead of the usual 90 minutes.
We had a happy reunion with a bewildered and cold MinnieLu. She’s usually so squirmy when I try to hold her, but she happily burrowed into my arms this time, still as could be. Like she was hoping I would forget she was there and not put her down. Poor thing. I’m sure she could smell the smoke and sense that something was wrong. And then it got so cold.
Now I could actually focus on solving the problem of where we were sleeping tonight. Thankfully, I was able to get a room at the Residence Inn just down the street. I figured everything nearby would be full already with evacuees.
We quickly set about gathering what we needed, and doing what we could to protect the pipes. We shut off the main water to the house, and drained all the faucets as best we could. I’m sure there was still some water hiding in there somewhere, but hopefully it would be enough. And we had to clear snow off the Outback, since we definitely wanted to switch to it given the road conditions. Even though we were just going down the street. There was at least a foot of snow on it – it was incredible!
Our plan was to check into the hotel, then go pick up some food. It turned out that the hotel did not have hot water, I was warned at check in, but they did have heat. Because they also had no gas, but luckily the heat was electric. That was good enough for me, showers could wait!
It seemed that everything in the area was closed. A combination of it being NYE, and the evacuations. Not even Walmart next door was open. The McDonald’s app claimed that the one nearby was open, so we put in an order. But when we got over there, they were clearly closed. We figured we’d have to get out of the immediate area to find something – with the fire, everything here had obviously given up on the day. We jumped on US 36, which was snowy but driveable (especially in the Outback).
Arby’s claimed to be open, but as we went to the drive through, we were told that they had just closed. We almost made it, darn! The only thing I had seen so far in all our driving that was open was the 7-11 next door. Not willing to waste any more time and get any farther away, we resigned ourselves to eating a gas-station dinner for the second night in a row. Some NYE this was turning out to be. It does seem that we always have a rough time/bad luck on NYE. The only year that stands out as NOT having this happen was when we went to Disney World. Maybe we should just do that every year.
We made it back to the hotel with our stash – the kids weren’t thrilled with the options we brought, but we made do. Deciding to forgo any pretense of a NYE celebration, we collapsed into bed without fanfare by about 10:30pm. The bright spot of the evening of course, was MinieLu. Who was getting plenty of attention and treats. She would have to sleep in her travel carrier tonight, but that was a good bit above freezing to death.
I had thought that I would surely sleep well tonight, after a rough night the night before, and generally being exhausted. But instead my mind wouldn’t slow down. It kept replaying each of the close calls we’d had on our trip home, imagining how the outcome of each could have been so much different. I tried to reign in those thoughts and focus instead on gratitude that it hadn’t happened that way, but wasn’t often successful for long. According to my Fitbit, it would end up being an even worse night of sleep than the night before.
So, after all was said and done, did I regret that we had made the trip? I mean, we ended up getting there okay, and we did rescue MinnieLu who was very glad to see us. And hopefully saved our pipes. So maybe it was worth it, in hindsight. But objectively speaking, had I known it would be that bad, the risk would not have seemed worth it, and I wouldn’t have suggested it. As painful as it would have been to make that decision.
Saturday, January 1 2022
By morning, the physical toll this was taking on my body was evident. I felt constantly shaky, dizzy, like my muscles had become too weak to function properly. I’m sure it was the combination of stress and poor sleep. And not great eating. My whole body felt permanently tense, and I couldn’t get it to relax.
We picked up a heater-fan next door at Walmart (got one of the last ones!) and set about the task of trying to warm the house up. It was 42 degrees when we arrived, so last night was likely not a problem. But it was only going to get colder today and tonight. We needed a little padding before heading back to Keystone.
We turned on every electric object in the house that could produce heat. The new fan, the oven, stove, a hair-dryer, even a clothes steamer. We managed to raise the temperature a full 10 degrees. Hopefully that would be enough. I was quite annoyed to see what a mess I had left the kitchen in, we’ve been so good about NOT doing that since we moved. But now the water was off, so there wasn’t much I could do for the pile of dirty dishes. They would have to wait some more.
The house definitely smelled of smoke, but it wasn’t overwhelming. I suspect it will clear out on its own. And I noticed most of the windowsills have a bit of ash and soot in them, that will likely need a little extra attention. But otherwise, everything seems to be intact.
We tried to put in our McDonald’s from last night again, but it turned out that even though open, their fryer wasn’t working. So we stopped at a different one on the way out of town. I have to say, even though I usually consider McDonald’s a last resort, that first bite of french-fry was heavenly. An actual hot, prepared meal. For the first time in two days, lol.
We took a longer route back to the mountains, staying entirely on the interstate as we were not willing to risk Hwy 93 again this morning. But it was uneventful. The boys had hoped to get back in time to ski today, but we weren’t quite going to make it. Brian enjoyed doing some ice skating, though. And we had dinner at Pizza on the Run, which was what we had wanted to do the night we came into town after the fire, but found the power out.
Sunday, January 2 2022
I thankfully, finally got a decent night of sleep. Knowing we had done all we could to prevent a pipe disaster at home, and having MinnieLu safely tucked into her cage here next to us. Xcel energy is supposed to be reconnecting the gas today, but someone has to be home. And we are up here in the mountains. So, I don’t know when we will be able to get ours going again. I have to go back to work tomorrow. If we still don’t have heat tomorrow night, we’ll have to figure out what to do, I guess.
I still get nervous every time I see something that looks like smoke. While driving last night, Brian asked if I was traumatized, after I think I nearly wrecked the car while focusing on a harmless plume of steam coming out of a building. I don’t think I went through anything traumatic enough to qualify. But the slightest whiff of smoke from a fireplace makes my heart race and my whole body tense up.
But, hopefully the worst is all behind us. (And hopefully I’m not jinxing anything by saying that!) All’s well that ends well. Of course, I know it didn’t end well for so many in our community. Final report was 991 homes lost, between Superior and Louisville. But I don’t think it’s unfair to celebrate your own escape from disaster. I wouldn’t have denied that to anyone else if I had been on the wrong side of probability. All we can do is work to solve the problems that are presented to us, even while being grateful when they are not as bad as someone else’s. And at least this time, ours could have been far worse. Maybe gratitude should be my guiding theme this year.