Just call me Miss Calamity
Now I know I am prone to exaggeration, but I truly am beginning to see a pattern.
When we arrived in Texas in early 2014, Austin’s eight year drought ended and in the course of the year Texas suffered the worst floods in over a decade. Add to that the flooding we encountered in Wichita in July…
Well, I can tell you, within a day of arriving in Colorado on Sunday, 10th July, to take part in the preamble to the bi-annual Gully family reunion which was to take place two weeks later, I was beginning to feel a bit like Forest Gump – you know, accidentally being in THE place of historic significance.
A fire had just flared up 20 minutes before we drove into the Bighorn RV Park in Coaldale. High temperatures and a lack of rainfall during spring meant the wilderness area that lay to the south was a tinderbox waiting for a lightning strike. At the time we arrived, we did not know that the clouds of smoke that billowed over the mountains
would become termed The Hayden Pass Fire and that within a week it would be designated the number one fire in the USA.
By Monday, the smoke was intolerable for homesteaders and ranches that were dotted up the mountainside, and homes and livestock were evacuated. Richard’s cousin’s home (where we had spent the winter helping to mail out orders of felting material) was on the periphery of the evacuation area and Richard spent a rushed afternoon taking photos of inventory of Mark’s home and business. While Mark packed up the business computers, I helped Jill hastily pack clothing and articles of sentimental value. Friends had offered to take them in, should they have to leave.
The Bighorn RV Park beside the Arkansas River, about a half mile further north from Mark’s home was deemed out of the danger zone, unless the wind was suddenly to change and drive the flames north, but I must say we had not fully set up the Jet for long-term stay and were ready to leave quickly, if necessary. The smoke made the sun invisible at times, and bits of ash covered our 5th wheel, the Jet. I think the scariest moment for me was when I woke up in the middle of Monday night, with the air so smoky I wondered if we would suffocate in our bed. I woke Richard but, typical of a man who likes his night time rest, he told me not to worry and promptly fell asleep again. I tried to calm myself and rationalised that, given Richard’s propensity for chest congestion, he would be the first to start coughing if the lack of oxygen was bad enough. I slept uneasily, dreaming of leaving him lying, mouth in a fishlike O sucking for air, and driving off in my trusty white steed, Benny. That would show him to listen to me!!
In the morning the smell of smoke had lessened substantially, and we soon realised that this would be the pattern for the coming days. In the evening the prevailing winds would drop and so would the smoke. One hundred foot high flames would become visible, and we went to bed wondering what the next morning would bring.
The cooler morning air kept the smoke at bay, and the fire looked much more benign.
However by mid afternoon, as the heat and wind increased, dramatic clouds of smoke would cover he skies again. Mark unpacked and packed the computer several times in the ensuing couple of days.
But it is strange how humans get used to things… By the Wednesday, with the fire covering nearly 13,000 acres, some 250 personnel assigned to fighting it, planes and helicopters enlisted to spreading water and fire retardant to contain the spread near human habitation, and fire-fighting priority given to ensuring “structures” were not lost, Richard and I were more entranced by the antics of the Bighorn sheep jumping from ledge to ledge on the rocks across the river.
They had not the least concerns about the fire that will to continue its devastation in the wilderness area to the south until, as the experts say, the first snows. Though I do hope the deer and other wildlife that make those mountains their home managed to get to safety further along the mountain range.
Fire-fighters stopped using the Coaldale Community centre as their local headquarters on the morning the family Reunion was due to go ahead there, as originally planned. Over thirty family members got busy planning, cooking and preparing Friday’s Taco Salad, and Saturday’s breakfast and Brisket lunch. The best part of all that preparation is of course the socialising that occurs alongside it. Strangely enough, the two unattached males in our company did most of the dishes, and they took a well deserved rest before the home made ice-cream (a Gully family tradition) was served.
After all the drama of the previous two weeks, I had a wonderful time getting to meet Gully family members again. It had been four years since the last one we attended.
However, I have to admit, I was looking forward to a more relaxed stay at our next venue. We moved further west to Cedaredge, nestled some 4000 feet below the massive Grand Mesa, hoping for some cooler weather in the shade of the lovely poplar trees of Shady Creek RV Park. We hoped to spend a month getting into shape doing some hiking on the fresher slopes of the high altitude Mesa, whilst we wait for the heat of August to pass and Utah’s National parks to become cool enough for us to visit in September and October. I did not realise the drama was to continue…
Last Friday, whilst eating my dinner outside at our site’s picnic table, a sudden gust of wind caused a poplar branch to fall from the tree top and land on my face. Blood spurted from my nose and I was in such pain and shock that I could do nothing but laugh insanely as Richard snapped photos for Facebook. Now I know how I will react in a real moment of crisis!
A week later, with no break and the nose healing nicely, Richard shut the trailer door on my left hand index finger. Later that same day, I sliced almost the whole of the top of my pinkie off. Thank goodness I am right handed and not too debilitated, although I am starting to get nervous about what is going to happen next.
In fact, the number of calamities that seem to follow me wherever I go has left me wondering. Our plan next year is to travel through California. May be I need to stay well away from the San Andreas Fault…
When we arrived in Texas in early 2014, Austin’s eight year drought ended and in the course of the year Texas suffered the worst floods in over a decade. Add to that the flooding we encountered in Wichita in July…
Well, I can tell you, within a day of arriving in Colorado on Sunday, 10th July, to take part in the preamble to the bi-annual Gully family reunion which was to take place two weeks later, I was beginning to feel a bit like Forest Gump – you know, accidentally being in THE place of historic significance.
A fire had just flared up 20 minutes before we drove into the Bighorn RV Park in Coaldale. High temperatures and a lack of rainfall during spring meant the wilderness area that lay to the south was a tinderbox waiting for a lightning strike. At the time we arrived, we did not know that the clouds of smoke that billowed over the mountains
would become termed The Hayden Pass Fire and that within a week it would be designated the number one fire in the USA.
By Monday, the smoke was intolerable for homesteaders and ranches that were dotted up the mountainside, and homes and livestock were evacuated. Richard’s cousin’s home (where we had spent the winter helping to mail out orders of felting material) was on the periphery of the evacuation area and Richard spent a rushed afternoon taking photos of inventory of Mark’s home and business. While Mark packed up the business computers, I helped Jill hastily pack clothing and articles of sentimental value. Friends had offered to take them in, should they have to leave.
The Bighorn RV Park beside the Arkansas River, about a half mile further north from Mark’s home was deemed out of the danger zone, unless the wind was suddenly to change and drive the flames north, but I must say we had not fully set up the Jet for long-term stay and were ready to leave quickly, if necessary. The smoke made the sun invisible at times, and bits of ash covered our 5th wheel, the Jet. I think the scariest moment for me was when I woke up in the middle of Monday night, with the air so smoky I wondered if we would suffocate in our bed. I woke Richard but, typical of a man who likes his night time rest, he told me not to worry and promptly fell asleep again. I tried to calm myself and rationalised that, given Richard’s propensity for chest congestion, he would be the first to start coughing if the lack of oxygen was bad enough. I slept uneasily, dreaming of leaving him lying, mouth in a fishlike O sucking for air, and driving off in my trusty white steed, Benny. That would show him to listen to me!!
In the morning the smell of smoke had lessened substantially, and we soon realised that this would be the pattern for the coming days. In the evening the prevailing winds would drop and so would the smoke. One hundred foot high flames would become visible, and we went to bed wondering what the next morning would bring.
The cooler morning air kept the smoke at bay, and the fire looked much more benign.
However by mid afternoon, as the heat and wind increased, dramatic clouds of smoke would cover he skies again. Mark unpacked and packed the computer several times in the ensuing couple of days.
But it is strange how humans get used to things… By the Wednesday, with the fire covering nearly 13,000 acres, some 250 personnel assigned to fighting it, planes and helicopters enlisted to spreading water and fire retardant to contain the spread near human habitation, and fire-fighting priority given to ensuring “structures” were not lost, Richard and I were more entranced by the antics of the Bighorn sheep jumping from ledge to ledge on the rocks across the river.
They had not the least concerns about the fire that will to continue its devastation in the wilderness area to the south until, as the experts say, the first snows. Though I do hope the deer and other wildlife that make those mountains their home managed to get to safety further along the mountain range.
Fire-fighters stopped using the Coaldale Community centre as their local headquarters on the morning the family Reunion was due to go ahead there, as originally planned. Over thirty family members got busy planning, cooking and preparing Friday’s Taco Salad, and Saturday’s breakfast and Brisket lunch. The best part of all that preparation is of course the socialising that occurs alongside it. Strangely enough, the two unattached males in our company did most of the dishes, and they took a well deserved rest before the home made ice-cream (a Gully family tradition) was served.
However, I have to admit, I was looking forward to a more relaxed stay at our next venue. We moved further west to Cedaredge, nestled some 4000 feet below the massive Grand Mesa, hoping for some cooler weather in the shade of the lovely poplar trees of Shady Creek RV Park. We hoped to spend a month getting into shape doing some hiking on the fresher slopes of the high altitude Mesa, whilst we wait for the heat of August to pass and Utah’s National parks to become cool enough for us to visit in September and October. I did not realise the drama was to continue…
Last Friday, whilst eating my dinner outside at our site’s picnic table, a sudden gust of wind caused a poplar branch to fall from the tree top and land on my face. Blood spurted from my nose and I was in such pain and shock that I could do nothing but laugh insanely as Richard snapped photos for Facebook. Now I know how I will react in a real moment of crisis!
A week later, with no break and the nose healing nicely, Richard shut the trailer door on my left hand index finger. Later that same day, I sliced almost the whole of the top of my pinkie off. Thank goodness I am right handed and not too debilitated, although I am starting to get nervous about what is going to happen next.
In fact, the number of calamities that seem to follow me wherever I go has left me wondering. Our plan next year is to travel through California. May be I need to stay well away from the San Andreas Fault…
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