"It's like the Apocalypse," he said

     We lost electricity yesterday morning, just before 9:00 a.m. At that point, I had no source of information, since I get no cell phone service in our little canyon and, of course, we had no land line, TV or wi-fi. 

     We had just experienced a serious wind storm—broken tree branches were everywhere—and so I assumed that that had temporarily taken out the power. Usually, when we lose electricity, it is restored within seconds or minutes or, on rare occasions, a few hours, so, by noon I started to wonder if something special was going on. 

     I hunkered down and did some grading, using up my laptop's battery.

     It wasn’t until later in the afternoon that my sister, Annie, who lives two hundred yards or so to the northeast of me in Bauers’ Canyon—there’s a hillock between us—showed up and informed me that there was a fire. 

     She pointed to the west. 

     Uh-oh.

     Bauers' Canyon, a wonderful 10-acre rural "compound" a mile or so above O'Neill Park, is located against a steep hill—a cliff, really—and so the view to the west is almost completely blocked. There was no sign of smoke, nor could we smell it. That was a good sign. The wind must be moving it away from us, we thought.

My place and Reb/Red's place are marked in white, lower right

     Annie told me what she knew, or thought she knew, which was frustratingly little. Somehow, she said, a fire started—she didn’t know when or where—and it was moving fast. They’re calling it the “Silverado fire.” (Silverado Canyon is several miles to the north of us; see map.)

     She said she thought that Edison had turned off the power as a precaution. (Turns out, their equipment likely started the fire, up by the junction of Santiago Canyon and Silverado Canyon.) 

     Where’d she get her information? Somehow, she had possession of some recently deceased person’s smart phone (don’t ask) and so she used it to call up her idiot friend Allan, who lives up in the Bay Area. (That service works.) Allan, a notorious dolt—he's a Trumpian, among other things—told her what he had heard and read about the fire. So our info at that point was pretty sketchy, and the iPhone was losing power fast. 

     We have an electric gate at the entrance to Bauers’ Canyon, which is great for safety—until you have a fire, and the power's out, and you might need to make a hasty exit but you can't. So we went down there and tried to roll open the gate. Naturally, there was no way. Our neighbor Gary and his pal saw us and helped out; we soon got the gate open far enough to get our cars through, if and when the time came. Whew! 

     The neighbors knew even less than we did about the fire. 

     To make a long story short, we spent the night in the dark (you should try it), and, by the morning, we were happy to find that the wind had died down quite a bit. Annie managed to use the iPhone as a wi-fi source for her laptop, though that was sketchy. I managed to make use of her Rube Goldberg system to update my students (I'm teaching online) and my dean—and my brother, in east Irvine, whose family seemed to be OK, though they're threatened with evacuation. 

     That’s when my laptop’s memory got to about zero. 

Teddy, cat

     Eventually, Teddy, my cat, and I went to take a nap. Yep, a nap. That's how we roll.

     An hour or so later, we were rudely awakened by a phone call—which was amazing, cuz my phone hasn't worked in over a week (don't ask)—and I realized that the power was back on. (It was cops asking for money. I said nope.) 

     So we have electricity again!

     I started up my laptop and found a map of the fire (see above). Turns out we’re damned close to it; it is, or was, a mile or so to the west, just over the ridge. The smoke must’ve blown away from us 'cause, again, we haven’t seen or smelled it—although, an hour ago, my sister claimed she could smell it. But she’s always claiming superpowers, including a super sniffer, and I'm skeptical.

     Annie just called and she now tells me we’re under a voluntary evacuation order. So we're packing up.

     Anyway, we’re fine right now though we’re worried about the fire. But we've been here before, especially back in 2007. 

     Don’t know about the Reb and Red Emma over in Modjeska Canyon. 

     Stay tuned, I guess.

     Yesterday, my conservative neighbor, Gary, standing among the wind refuse when he helped us with the fence, said: "I'm not much of a church-goer, but, all of a sudden, it's like the Apocalypse!"

     Yeah.

Louis and the Reb evacuating, back in 2007

UPDATE (5:50 pm): 

     Just got a call from the Reb and Red Emma who are at some taco place along Portola (near Sprouts, I guess). The fire is awfully close to their place—just over the hill in Whiting Ranch (see map). They've been evacuated and they're heading to alternative shelter. The Sheriff (or some such) came around their place at about 1:00 this afternoon and told 'em to git. They did what they could to secure their place, grabbed their "three angry cats" (and Louis, I'm sure), and rolled out.

     They're pretty sure that Lewis Long is evacuated, 'cause his neighborhood is in the fire zone (it is, according to my Register map). Earlier, they watched as tankers dumped water on those neighborhoods.

     Rebel Girl says "hi!" 

     She's pretty gloomy. She talked about the ferocious wind and reminded me that we went through all this stuff with the fire of 2007. 

     It was horrible then; it is horrible now. (The 2007 fire actually got right up to Reb's house, but it somehow survived.)

     Plus that bastard Trump is still in office!

     "Not for long," I said.

     When you're talking with the Reb, you've got to stay positive. She depends on me for that.

     According to the map, my bro's family is also in some kind of fire zone (see the bottom corner of the top tan patch). Knowing him, I'm sure they're fine. Here's hopin'.

     Teddy says "hey."

UPDATE (7:30 pm): 

     The wind has been crazy all day, mostly blowing west/northwest or north, but since 4:00 pm, it's been heading east/northeast (increasingly to the east), which moves the Whiting Ranch part closer to Modjeska Canyon. As of a couple of hours ago, it was blowing at 9 mph, though I can detect no wind at all (at my place not far from Cook's Corner).

     At about 6:00 pm (just found the email), my bro wrote: "Kind of looks like the smoke reduced to very little in the last couple of hours, at least in the area above Foothill Ranch. And the wind seems to have gone. They aren't changing the containment number, but it seems encouraging."

UPDATE (8:45 pm):
     I found this "hotspot" map for the Silverado fire, and it seems to provide a better sense of where the fire really is. Unfortunately, I don't know how current it is. Check it out:

Again, Reb's place and mine indicated with blue dots at lower right

8:30 pm: For the first time, I can smell smoke. Sheesh.

UPDATE (9:40 pm):

     Right now, the wind is headed east/southeast at 4 mph (in Live Oak Canyon). Not good. No wonder we can smell smoke. But the wind direction has been shifty all day, so there's that. And it's only 4 mph. 

2007: about a half mile from my place: toast

See also

✅Ten Years ago today: the big fire, DtB
Monday, October 23, 2017

The fire zone includes the site (Loma Ridge) of that terrible crash (84 dead) of a Marine Corps jet in 1965:

✅Flying into a mountain, DtB
Sunday, February 14, 2010