Fire!

The heat that summer had surprised everyone. The weather reports claimed record-breaking highs for two weeks straight, with almost no rain for a month. The landscape around Jackson State Park was drained of all moisture. Even Cherry Creek, usually full of the sound of rushing water, was somehow suppressed.

It was my third summer working for the forest service, a boring job most of the time, but it paid okay. The crew I worked on consisted of five of us who had been thrown together. Ryan and I had been on the same crew since we started two summers ago, so we were looked to as the leaders. Jen, Kurt, and Stephanie were in their first summer with the forest service.

We had been sent to the park to do some maintenance work on the trail leading up to Angel Lake, and then on to Dead Horse Pass. Over the past two weeks we had been clearing the Cherry Creek Canyon trail. The past winter had had some pretty heavy snows right after an ice storm swept through resulting in massive avalanches. The canyon was littered with fallen trees, rockslides, and washouts and it was our job to get them cleaned up.

So far it had been slow going. Each tree we came to had to be cut up and the pieces rolled off the trail. All the while we were told to keep it looking as natural as possible. Rockslides were a bit trickier because you always had to worry about rocks coming down the slide from above. Some of the bigger rocks took a couple of us on pry bars to work them loose. After prying the rocks off of the trail, we would roll them down the slope where they picked up speed shattering on trees, picking up more rocks and cascading down the slope until finally coming to rest somewhere beyond our view. The worst was when we came to a wash. Digging through the debris left behind to get the trail level again seemed to take forever.

In our two weeks of work, we had only made it about two thirds of the way up the seven mile trail. The going was made even slower by having to haul all of our equipment by hand as the trail was too narrow to bring the truck in.



Far below the enormous trunk of a toppled tree protruded over the edge of a cliff. No more than a shell of a tree, barely holding onto the side of the mountain by a few splintered roots, the rest having torn from the ground and settled on end in a mass of dirt and wood. Stripped of its branches by the gusting winds and its bark now mostly gone from weathering, the enormous trunk jutted into emptiness as if trying to bridge the expanse of the canyon below. Before a brutal storm had left it crippled and dying, it had stood taller than any tree around, dwarfing the surrounding woods by comparison.



We had been working most of the day on a stretch of switchbacks in the trail. Around noon a bank of clouds rolled over the top of the mountain giving us some shade from the afternoon sun. Far off we could hear distant rumblings of thunder. After the dry spell we had been in that could only mean trouble.

Having finished our lunch, the five of us got up and began collecting our gear to move on. About another quarter of a mile up the trail was a mass of fallen trees, broken and twisted, blocking the path. I hefted my chainsaw, shrugged into my backpack and began the zigzagging climb up the steep rock face ahead. Ryan led the way, followed by Jen, and then me. Kurt hung back to help Stephanie since her pack was always too heavy. The rest of us were sick of hearing about it, but Kurt had this thing for helpless blondes. I didn’t mind following Jen, in fact it was probably one of the better views I had seen that day. She was definitely not the helpless type, but still maintained a sense of softness.

As we came around the last corner leading up to the tangle of trees a boom of thunder rang out across the valley causing everyone to jump. “It’s getting closer,” Jen said, “Do you think we should head back down to camp?”

Ryan and I had been working this crew together for three years now and had seen a lot of thunder storms roll through. “I don’t think we have anything to worry about. It’ll pass us by. If we head down now we don’t get paid for half the day.” He always worried about the money. Ryan was trying to save up for school, and with no scholarships and no help from his parents, a long-haul trucker and school secretary, he had a long way to go toward getting through dental school.



A burning flash of light tore through the sky, arcing toward the mountainside, searching for a place to release the electricity roaring from the clouds above. The gigantic tree trunk hanging from the cliff formed a perfect ground, allowing the energy from the lightning to dissipate and seep into the earth. Buried deep in a crack splitting to the core of the rotting trunk, a glowing ember smoldered to life fed by the breeze rising from the valley floor below, the only memory of the searing bolt shattering the stillness only a moment before.



Setting down my pack I started up the chainsaw and began ripping through the small branches so I could get to the main trunks. Jen and Ryan pulled the branches away as I cut them and dragged them off to the side of the trail. Finally I got to one of the trunks and began to saw through it cutting up from the bottom so that it would not pinch the bar and make us chop through by hand to get the saw back out. Kurt and Stephanie finally straggled in. Thank goodness the saw was running because I could tell she was whining again. The saw sliced through the last of one trunk and a large chunk dropped to the ground at my feet. Ryan and Kurt picked it up, hauling it to the edge of the rock face and tossed it, watching it tumble end over end kicking out from the wall and splintering on the rocks below. It was one of the only things that kept us entertained up here, watching the destruction caused by large rocks and logs flying through the air, smashing into trees and sweeping through the undergrowth, tearing at the plants leaving a trail of twisted stems and broken leaves in their wake.

We could hear the thunder coming closer now, sometimes even over the whine of the chainsaw as it tore through more trees. Suddenly from across the gorge flashed a bolt of lightning followed by a crash of thunder, shaking the hillside with the sound. “We need to get under some cover.” Ryan said, “We’re too exposed here out in the open. Stash your stuff under the trees and follow me. We’ll get past these trees and wait it out along the trail up ahead.”



Stronger gusts flew up the mountainside as the clouds rolled overhead, fueling the smoldering bed of coals. A particularly violent puff rushed inside the decaying trunk just long enough to whip past the cinders flaring them to life. A tiny flame grew, seeking a source to feed its aching need for fuel, finding the tiny blades of grasses growing in the cracks of the trunk, flaring along the tiny stalks. Swelled by the breeze, the flames licked up the trunk growing in strength until they found a dried pine bough, brown from lack of water, and hungrily began to devour the needles in an ever-expanding blaze.



I decided to keep my backpack with me since I was carrying a lot of food and water. Climbing across the nest of trees, branches entwined and holding us back was nearly impossible. Eventually we got across and began moving forward into the woods. The air was alive with electricity and we could smell the ozone wafting in on the breeze. Thunder continued to rumble from off on our right side. Sometimes we could see flashes as lightning crossed the sky in jagged arcs, searching for the ground.

I passed out trail mix to the group as we sat under the trees waiting for the storm to pass. Every time the sound of thunder reached us Jen jumped. I hadn’t pegged her as the type to be scared of thunder but she wasn’t looking too confident at the moment. Kurt had Stephanie wrapped up in his arms attempting to comfort her, and Ryan just stood staring out at the clouds rolling past with a look of awe on his face, smiling at each new thunder clap, and flash of light. The wind began to pick up a little, rising from the depths of the canyon floor, and with it carried just the slightest hint of smoke. Just on the edge of being nervous, my mind searched back to the brief episodes of fire training videos they had shown us in orientation. What had they said about staying safe in a wilderness fire situation?



Engulfed in flame, the tiny pine tree reached out on either side, groping for another host to pass the flames on to. Dwarfing the diminutive pine, their branches parched from the onslaught of the summer heat wave, other larger trees beckoned to the burgeoning wildfire. Flaring along both sides of the wasted trunk, flames quickly ate through the few roots remaining that anchored it to the ground. Balancing tiredly on the brink of the steep rock wall, the log hesitated momentarily as if trying to decide whether to stay or go, before cartwheeling over the edge in a flaming dance of death, careening off the cliff face and catapulting into mid air, tumbling end over end before finding its final resting place among a sea of timber on the forest floor below.



As we sat the smoke became more pronounced filling our nostrils with the charred scent of dry fire. Soon wisps of smoke began to make their way through our field of vision, rising on the draft from the canyon below. Having waited quite some time since the last clap of thunder crashed across the valley, echoing off the canyon walls, I suggested that we have a look at the situation developing somewhere beneath us. Leaving the girls to sit beside the path, Ryan, Kurt and I made our way back across the maze of fallen trees to the exposed face of the cliff.

Off to the left, we could see a thick black cloud of smoke rising from behind the ridge, additionally in thinner clouds we could see trails of smoke working their way around a spur of rock jutting into the canyon.

“It looks like the lightning must have started a fire down there.” Kurt said.

“Brilliant,” Ryan came back at him, “you’re a genius. It doesn’t look too bad right now, but I have a feeling it’s going to get bigger rather than going out.”

Following the course of the trail as it wound down the mountainside, I could see that it angled off to the right following the contour of the canyon skirting the banks of Cherry Creek. Becoming thicker by the minute, the smoke from below stung my throat and eyes. “Should we make a run for it?” I asked Ryan. “The trail goes the other direction from the smoke. If we leave the equipment up here we can almost take it at a run.”

“There’s no telling how fast this is going to spread.” he replied. “Do you really think you can outrun a forest fire?”

“If we can get below the fire line we should be alright. The wind will be blowing it up the slope away from us.” Looking back at the girls, I shouted to Jen. “Grab the first aid kit and fire blanket out of my pack. Leave the rest. We’re gonna make a run for it!”

The girls jumped up looking nervous. Jen rummaged through my pack. Finding the supplies, she and Stephanie made their way toward us crossing the trees. As they neared the edge I reached up helping Steph down first, and then grabbing Jen by the waist was about to lower her to the ground.

“Holy shit!” she whispered, looking beyond me to the valley floor. “We’re not going down there are we?”

Turning again to look I was astounded by how quickly the fire had spread. Over the spur of rock we could now see swirling in the breeze the orange tips of flames, growing higher each second.

“We can’t go down any more,” I said, “it’s moving too fast. We should try and get to the lake. Hopefully we can get there before the fire catches up to us.”

“Hopefully? You’re insane!” Kurt said, “I’ll take my chances going down. At least that way we can get below the fire line instead of having it chase us the whole way. Anyway, climbing across all of those trees and rock slides is going to be slow going.”

“I’m with Kurt,” Ryan said, “I think we can still make it. The fire is moving fast, but if we go now we should be able to beat the line.”

“There’s no way I’m going to hike down toward that fire line! Don’t you remember our fire training?” I questioned, “They said you should always move away from the fire making your way toward water. We need to stay together.”

“If we start now we will be moving away from the fire once we hit the bottom of the switchbacks. The creek runs along the trail all the way to the park so we’ll have water nearby the whole way down.” Ryan replied. “I’m going down. If you want to come go ahead, but I’m leaving now.”

Turning to Jen, I looked at her questioningly. I knew that Kurt would follow Ryan, and Stephanie would be right behind. “I don’t think we should go that way,” I told her, “it’s moving too quickly. I’m not going to go by myself though. What do you think?”

Looking again over my shoulder at the advancing fire line she turned and began making her way back across the trees without a word.

Grabbing her backpack I followed calling over my shoulder to the other three. “When you get to the bottom, send someone after us. We’ll be at the lake.”

Hoping that they would make it, but somehow not convinced, I walked across the trees jumping down on the other side and throwing the pack on the ground. “We need to empty everything out of here that we don’t need. Only take what’s necessary. Food, water, and your first aid kit will do it. We need to move fast.”

Jen tore into the pack pulling out clothes, the camp stove, and a cookware kit. Seeing her drop her Nomex coveralls, I told Jen to throw those back in hoping we wouldn’t be needing them. My pack I kept a little heavier. Torturing myself on the hikes in and out of our work location with extra weight, I always had my climbing gear with me just incase I found a wall begging to be climbed. There was a nice face lower on the trail that had a tight crack running straight up the middle. We had climbed there the past couple of days and I was hoping to find another spot soon since we were getting a bit bored with it. Jen had made tons of improvement since her first climb last week. Even though she was still scared of letting the rope have all her weight, her technique was improving rapidly.

Cinching the straps on my pack so that it rode high on my hip belt, I snapped the last buckle closed on Jen’s pack and hoisted it so she could slide the straps over her shoulders. Waiting for her to buckle her belt, I told her to take the lead but keep a fast pace.



Flames advancing up the hillside at an astounding rate incinerated the undergrowth instantaneously. Low lying grasses crackled and turned to ash as they flash-burned in the blaze propelled on the wind. Higher in the trees, the flames crackled through the pine boughs, spurred on by sparks jumping from one tree to the next, igniting the thirsty branches. The conflagration surged toward the upper growth, swirling in a vortex of fiery rage consuming all in its path until topping out in a frenzied holocaust. Deep inside the trunks sap rose to a boil, expanding within the confines of the outer bark until the pressure was so great that the tree exploded in a shower of splinters. Sickening black smoke rushed skyward, borne on the heat from below forming a great column rising into the afternoon sky, announcing to whoever would notice that somewhere below an inferno was tearing through the woodlands.



With only two miles to hike to reach the lake, I had figured on a pretty easy trip. Although we had to deal with the trail being obstructed in a number of spots it shouldn’t be too bad I had thought. What I didn’t remember was that those last two miles of trail seemed like a never-ending climb up a vertical face. The switchbacks we had just left behind were only the beginning of a series that snaked its way across the mountainside climbing and then leveling out for a short time before steeply climbing once again as the trail gained nearly 1800 feet in the last three miles to the lake.

Our pace had slowed considerably in the last few minutes as Jen struggled to pull herself up the large rocks that formed stairs in the path. Roots and branches of the trees on either side gave assistance as she reached out trying to maintain her balance and move forward. Clinging to the trail, panting for breath, I watched as she reached the top of the rocks and slumped tiredly to the ground at the side of the trail waiting for me to catch up.

The smoke was thicker here, filtering up through the trees below. Breathing, already difficult from the thinning of the air at this elevation, was made painful by the acrid smoke, burning our lungs with each breath. The wind had died some, making me hopeful that the fire would spread slower, but it also caused the smoke to pool against the mountain, finding depressions in the terrain to settle in.

As we continued moving along the trail we would come to spots where the smoke was so thick we could barely see the trail at our feet. Coughing, my lungs straining to get air, I took out a couple of bandanas and soaked them with my water bottle. Handing one to Jen I tied the other across my face to try and filter some of the smoke from my breathing. Clearer air to breath was offset by the fact that now I had to suck my breaths through the moist cotton of the bandana, making the simple act of breathing a chore. With my eyes stinging and filled with tears, I took the lead grabbing hold of Jen’s hand to guide her through the impenetrable smoke.

Rising up the hillside, the trail worked its way around to the right, following Cherry Creek Canyon before leaving the stream behind to climb the ridge dropping down on Angel Lake. Rounding a stone outcropping and angling back against the hillside, we caught sight of the flames for the first time since leaving the rest of the group. Stepping out onto a rockslide littered with loose boulders, I could see the flames climbing toward us spreading out on both sides of the swath cut by the avalanche of stone. Picking our way to the middle of the open space, Jen and I stopped to look at the destruction rising from below. Pausing, I considered staying there in the middle of the slide and waiting for rescue. After watching the fire tear through a stand of trees though and seeing a broken trunk fall across the rocks below, I could only imagine if that happened above us on the slope and knocked some of the rocks loose, raining them down on our heads. Moving quickly now, realizing that time was running short; I again set off across the rockslide. Jumping from boulder to boulder, often finding them move beneath my feet as I tried to catch my balance, I urged Jen along, telling her that we had to hurry if we wanted to beat the fire to the ridge.

As she jumped to the final rock, Jen caught her foot throwing her off balance and sending her into a fall. Reaching out to grab her my hands closed on air. Tumbling onto the rock, she cried out in pain, rolling onto her back and clutching her knee to her chest. A stream of red ran down her shin, oozing from beneath her hands and soaking the top of her sock. Shedding my backpack, I rushed back to help her up. Peeling her hands away from the knee, I saw a deep gash running under her kneecap. The skin flapped open, and blood pumped from the wound in pulsing waves. Tearing the bandana from my face I immediately put pressure on it telling her to push as hard as she could. Moving around behind, I helped Jen remove her pack and rummaged through looking for her first aid kit. The cut was fairly deep and gaped open, making it difficult for the blood to clot. The bandana was filled with blood and after rinsing the area with water, I pulled off my tank top to dry her knee before bandaging it. Three butterfly bandages, two gauze pads and an Ace bandage later I picked up her pack, and helped Jen up wrapping her arm around my shoulder. Limping to where I had abandoned my pack I set her down.

“How ya feeling, kid?” I asked jokingly.

“It feels like a truck ran over my knee,” she said. “What are we going to do? I can’t walk on my own and the fire is coming quick.”

I thought for a minute before answering. “If you can keep going, I think we have a better chance by getting to the lake. I’ll take what we need from your pack and put it in mine. I can help you along and we’ll just keep moving. It’s only about another mile now.”

Opening my backpack I removed a clean tank top. Discarding the bloodied rag I had used on her knee I slid the clean fabric over my head. Covered in grime, I felt bad having told Jen to leave all of her clothes behind. Taking another tank top from the bag I offered it to her. Past the point of worrying about modesty she tore off her shirt soaked in blood and tugged on my tank top, which hung loosely on her petite frame. Pulling a few things from her pack I stuffed them into the top of mine and cinched it closed. Hauling it up onto my back, I got the pack settled and then reached down to help Jen to her feet.

Placing both of her hands around my neck, she pulled herself up until we were standing face to face. Looking into her eyes I said, “I’m sorry I got you into all this. Maybe we should have gone with the others.”

“I feel much safer here with you than I would have following them into the fire line,” and with that she stood up on tiptoe kissing me softly on the cheek. My mind reeling from the kiss, I eased her over to my side. Putting my arm around her waist, we set off toward the ridge line ahead.

It was slow going now. Trying to match our steps I held Jen close, supporting her weight so she would not have to walk on her bad leg. The ridge loomed above us, and with flames closing in from behind our task seemed near impossible. I could hear the fire now faintly, the crackling of wood as it gave in to the searing blaze. Along with the smoke now came higher temperatures as the heat from the fire was borne on the wind. The afternoon sunlight dimmed as it was filtered through the cloud of smoke rising into the sky behind us, giving the landscape an orange tint.

As hard as she tried to pull her own weight, Jen was using me for support with almost every step. Dragging me down by the shoulder she constantly stumbled her leg refusing to hold her up. Inching toward the ridge peak, I cursed the wind as it became stronger the higher on the hillside we went. Fire raced through the upper branches of the trees overhead, raining sparks and glowing coals on top of us. Soon the flames caught up at ground level surrounding us on all sides. The heat was unbearable as we struggled to maintain our goal of reaching the top. Choking on the smoke filled air, straining for every breath as my lungs protested the assault of the thick, caustic cloud enveloping us, I searched ahead trying to find the ridgeline.

All of a sudden, far off, a new noise could be heard over the sounds of the fire surrounding us. The steady drone of an airplane engine hummed in the distance, growing in volume until it passed straight overhead banking sharply to come around for another look. Pausing in our race to the ridgeline, I turned and waved hoping to catch the pilot’s eye as he swept over the trees hiding us from his view. On his second pass, a cargo door on the underside of the plane opened spilling a slimy red fluid onto the trees above, which then rained down on us from the branches overhead. Covered in the putrid fire retardant, we turned and ran as best we could, our goal to reach the crest before the fire flared to life again.

Reaching the top of the ridge I glanced back hoping to see the flames somehow disappearing after the deluge from above but instead they had just skirted the area effected by the planes payload and were again racing toward us. Dropping steeply in front of us a rock face fell almost vertically to the lake basin below ending in a jumble of rocks on the lakeshore below. The trail skirted the ridgeline for a while finally easing down through the trees to the lakeside in a lazy curve stretching for a half mile to our right. Knowing we would never make it along the path I eased Jen to the ground. Throwing my pack down beside her I tore it open strewing the contents on the ground digging to the bottom as I hunted for my climbing gear. Finding a harness I shoved it at Jen telling her to put it on.

“We’ll never make it going around on the trail,” I told her. “We have to get down to the lake before the fire comes over the ridge. You’re gonna have to trust me on this one, we have to go down the there.”

Finding my harness and the rope I pulled them from the pack along with a length of webbing. Wrapping the webbing around a tree and doubling the rope through the loops I threw both ends over the side of the cliff. The rope flew through the air uncoiling as if fell to the rocks below with just enough line at the end to allow us to safely reach the bottom. Jen in her harness was standing ready to begin her descent. Clipping the rope through her belay device, I reminded her to sit back on the rope and let it do the work. Especially with her hurt knee that was going to be critical, otherwise she would lose her balance and have a tough time getting situated again.

With few mishaps she made it down the first half of the rope. All the while I could feel the heat growing as the fire surged closer. Stuffing the remaining equipment back into my pack I got ready to follow.

“You’ve got to go faster,” I yelled down to Jen, “Kick off from the wall and let the rope slide through.”

The top of the tree the rope encircled was beginning to burn as the wind pushed the flames across the top of the ridge. With nowhere to go but down, I waited impatiently for Jen to reach the rocks below. Nylon webbing and heat are not a good combination where safety is concerned. I could see the edges of the webbing beginning to singe and melt as the fire closed in on the tree anchoring my last chance of escape. Finally Jen reached the ground allowing some slack in the rope as I hurriedly fastened myself to the rope.

Lowering myself over the edge, I kicked out from the wall allowing the rope to slide through my hand coming to rest a third of the way down the wall. Again I pushed off, knowing it was only a matter of time before the heat melted through the webbing and sending me in an uncontrolled fall. The rope sliced into my hand blistering it from the friction as I slid through empty space. My feet finding the wall again I kicked out. Seeing the ground rushing up beneath me, I pulled back on the rope slowing myself a mere 5 feet over the rocks. Slowly lowering myself the few remaining feet I was surprised as the rope pulled free from its anchor at the top of the cliff, throwing me onto my back as coils of line tumbled on top of me. The equipment in my pack padded the fall, leaving me only with a bruised elbow and skinned knuckles on my trailing hand. Jen limped over trying to help me up.

Raining down from above, smoking debris from the fire fell on our heads bringing us back to our predicament. As she leaned over to give me a hand up, a branch tipped in flame landed on Jen’s back lighting the tank top she was wearing on fire.

Screaming in pain, she ripped at the shirt trying to pull it off. Grabbing her around the waist, I carried her to the lakeshore, wading knee deep and dumped her in, dousing the burning material. Gasping for breath as she rose from the frigid water, Jen clawed the charred fabric from her back, discarding it in an angry tirade.

Forgetting the backpack stranded on the shore, I pulled her up and waded further into the water. Gigantic boulders, submerged in the clear blue water rose up to block our path. Neck deep in the icy pool I struggled to climb atop one of the rocks, sliding off a number of times before finding a hold deep enough to pull myself up the rough side and onto the boulder. Reaching down for Jen’s hand I began shivering in the open air as the wind dried the water from my skin. Pulling her onto the rock with me, I looked around for our next move. With only two inches of water rippling across the highest point of the boulder we stood on there was no better place for us to go.

Both of us shivering from the icy water we had just left, I sat down pulling Jen onto my lap and wrapping her in my arms trying to conserve as much body heat as possible. Looking back at the ridge where we had just been, I was amazed that we had made it. The trees all along the top of the cliff blazed with fire, the flames leaping in a furious dance as they licked high over the treetops. Smoke in thick billowing clouds rose into the sky a column of gray shielding the sun and hiding the dimming sky. Over the course of the next hour, the fire worked its way around the edges of the lake, burning everything in sight. Occasionally we would here booming explosions as trees erupted succumbing to the pressure building within. It was beautiful in a way, watching the dancing of the flames in the trees as they were caught up in the fiery blast.

Two days went by as we sat on the rock, waiting for the flames to die and rescue to come. Every once in a while a plane would fly overhead, dropping its load of fire retardant goo. I had gone back to the pack and brought it out to the rock, providing us with some food to eat and the Nomex coveralls we had been issued by the forest service to keep us warm. On the morning of the third day, a helicopter zoomed overhead circling the lake and settled on the far shore. Three rescue workers poured out of the side and made their way along the shore before shouting to us to come over to them. Stiff and sore I yelled back that I would need some help with Jen since she was injured and one of them waded out carrying her back to shore.

In the helicopter on the ride back to the smoke jumper base, they told us a man had stumbled out of the woods badly burned this morning. He had survived by holing up in a pool carved out of the creek bed by a waterfall. All the way to the hospital he had mumbled over and over, “They’re up at the lake.”