The Dixie Fire comes to Tobin

On July 13, a fire was reported down by Camp Creek, where the infamous Camp Fire began in 2018. We weren't worried for ourselves as there was a good response, and the fire didn't come towards us in an alarming fashion.  I went to Chico for a chiropractor visit, and Jeffery took a load to the Neal Rd. dump.  Normal day.  Fire nearby.  Alert but calm.

Day 2 photo of the poof of smoke that blew over the Tobin Ridge

On July 14, I saw smoke behind the Tobin Ridge and alerted the neighbors, but the plume dissipated quickly. . Jeffery and I had planned to meet up that day with our kids down in the Valley, and all still seemed well, so we left despite Dixie.. The fire was still down at the tunnels at the Cresta Reservoir and across the river from us, so we snapped some shots and kept going.

As we head towards Cresta Dam and the Elephant Butte tunnel, this is what we see.

Even when on July 15, (Bob's birthday!) we were told that Tobin was ordered to evacuate, we stayed with the kids, and came back to Tobin on the 16th to begin to gather our belongings. By then, the fire had moved up to Rock Creek,  and was over the top of the Tobin Ridge,so we knew that it was time to get packing, just in case.  Bob and Grover already had our fire hoses out, hooked up and charged for the same reason.

The view of the Tobin Ridge from Hwy 70.  Jackass Creek is obscured by the large central tree in the foreground.

I drove up to check my mailbox and this was the view of the switchback road over the top of Tobin Ridge, headed toward Rock Creek.

Fire crews arrived to scout the property but the rest of that day was watching smoke blow up and away from us mostly.  In the evening, the heat began to rev and the fire could be seen on the mountain ridge, and we had some big sunset plumes and night-time scenes; but the fire still did not send us fleeing in terror or fill our world with thick smoke.

The fire is taking off somewhat up in the Bowl of Jackass Creek

The smoke looks scary, but most of the illumination comes from the sunset behind the smoke.

As night comes on, you can see the lip of the Bowl ablaze.

We did some fire watching that night.  It was pretty far away at that point, and we'd seen fire like this before.

There's our crew, keeping an eye on all of Tobin..

On July 17, I drove up to Caribou to hike with Brenda and pick blackberries.  We had a lovely time, and couldn't see the fire at all.  On our way back down Hwy 70, that changed, and we could see the plume from many vantage points.  Still, many views hid the fact that fire was in our neighborhood, so the stress was still low-medium.  We'd been through this many times; just last year; and we were ready to go, and to protect our home, and to not get all emotional.  We went to bed that night with fire widening across the Ridge and beginning to drop down Jackass Creek.

The fire still doesn't look that bad this morning.

On my way home from my hike with Brenda, I saw this plume over Ben Lomond.  The peak also had fire climbing over its left shoulder, which runs downstream towards our area.

From our overlook, it simply doesn't seem to Impend in a frightening fashion.

As the day passes, I can suddenly see some flammage below the Bowl.  This view is from in front of my house, looking past my Smoking Room to the Ridge beyond.

Zoom up - yep, those are flames.  The Dixie Fire is on the face of the Ridge now.

We hear it and see it from Grover's front yard.

A different angle, looking north

Here's some of our crew, ready to protect us.

The City Lights affect

Another night in lawn chairs with cups of coffee

It was Sunday, July 18, when the winds started blowing and the fire began to spread rapidly on the Ridge and up the canyon along the highway, and we felt helpless terror and fascination as we listened to the explosions and roars and pops and crashes and whooshes of various pieces of mountain-side going up in flames.  The wind let us hope that it would stay over there, but that hope soon died.  

The wind got capricious, the fire crossed the highway, the river and then the railroad tracks.  It was on our mountain, just around the bend, and moving towards us.  The crews, already thick on the ground, increased, and we 9 locals who had set hoses and conferred and helped guard Tobin together began to say our farewells to each-other.  No amount of hose use by us could help at that time.  By 3 p.m., we who were leaving were out, evacuated, refugees.  I left Jeffery and friends at the Shady Rest rest area and headed down to the safe place I would use in the Valley.

This map was captured at 6:25 a.m.

The fire began to roar as the morning wind came up.  First the fire fell down the hill, then it began to spread out wider and burn up the hill again.

The view from the bonfire pit with fire on the ridge.

Big flames.  Loud roars.

More big flames, and the smoke thickened.  The leaning tree became a marker for me.  Would it survive this terrible fire?

The wind blew strange shapes of fire and smoke.

Bob watches the fire from near Grover's and the bonfire pit.

Art shot of my leaning marker tree in the pink smoke.

From our cone-zone overlook, we watched the fire fall down towards the railroad tracks and burn into the Jackass Creek drainage.  

Terrible flames spurt out of Jackass Creek.  The Big Blue fire train would be called upon to save the culvert under the tracks, lest the fire toast and destroy it.  There are lots of culverts in the canyon.

Fire in one's world is so terrifyingly fascinating.  

The fire climbs all around the hills, being ignited by wind-driven debris and by explosive heat 

It is now, as the fire grows and falls towards the river that I feel the wind change.  It was blowing on my right cheek, then suddenly it was against my left cheek, and I grew nervous.

Jackass Creek really begins to take off in a dry section

I know it's like seeing the same pictures, but the fire keeps moving and growing, and dying where it was an inferno earlier, so I keep taking pictures

Jackass Creek is now wreathed in smoke

View from Mary's, looking upstream - North - to where the fire is moving.  The fire will jump the highway, the river, and the railroad  in a couple of hours, and the fire's edge will come within 20 yards of this yard (from the right)

Fire drops off the mountain slopes and starts fires on the other side of the highway

A fire crew dealt with it right away.  There were lots of patrols going on.

View of the Tobin Bridge.  Jackass Creek comes down the mountain beyond the far end of the bridge.

Last glimpse of this view before I head out of Tobin, truck loaded with photo albums and other valuables, to become an official evacuee.

The Shady Rest rest area, 8 miles downriver, is where we meet up before parting for our seperate refuges.  Jeffery and Grover will stay in our travel trailer right there and go back to Tobin early the next day.  I'm heading farther, knowing I'll probably be refused re-entry.

The pyrocumulus cloud seen from Jarbo Gap - 18 driving miles from Tobin.

The cloud seen from south of Oroville - 40 driving miles from Tobin

The final shot.  From there on, I could no longer see my enemy.  Relief and guilty feelings, but I would serve as liason and info-gatherer, rather than go through another Back-fire Operation, which is what was going to happen in Tobin that very night.

This map was captured at 6:25 p.m.

This map was captured at 8:31 p.m.

This is what greeted Jeffery and Grover upon their return.  A weary crew of Hero Guardians, making their morning cuppa joe.

Here's more.  They are the Marin County Fire Department.  Our nephew Casey is a fireman with that team, but not on this fire.  Thank you from the bottoms of our hearts.  Other teams were vital, too, and we thank every single one of them.

Sara was first to tell me that she heard Tobin was SAFE (I wept), and then I found this heat map.  That's my driveway up to Dunedin on the "left arm" of the unburned island that is thickly surrounded by fire.

I will end here, as this was the MAIN EVENT.  Scary Parts 1-4.  There will be aftermath photos later.

AGAIN.  WE THANK EVERYONE WHO IS FIGHTING TO SAVE OUR COUNTY, OUR HOMES, OUR NEIGHBORS AND OUR LOVED ONES.  THE SKILL AND EXPERTISE YOU OFFER IS VERY HUMBLING.  OUR GRATITUDE.

The Candle Tree of the Dixie Fire

The Candle Tree

 

The Candle Tree is an Emblem of the Dixie Fire for me.

It represents so many of the realities included in this disaster event.

Consider; the Dixie Fire began when a tree was ignited by faulty power lines.  One tree.  One dreadful beacon lit.  A stark example of how tiny errors can get blown completely out of proportion in a wink.

Human responders sprang into action; a testament to human excellence and ability.  Just thinking of the planning it takes to have us ready to do battle with such a monster in a coordinated fashion is amazing and humbling.  I took much comfort from their expertise.

The Dixie Fire is now in its 13th day.  It has travelled through two counties and has ravaged our drought-sere forests. it has burned many homes and structures along the way; peoples' homes that I have visited and shared joy in; and it is not over yet, sad to say.

However, while a million or so Candle Trees now stand sending up their flares, or burning like Light Sabers stuck in the ground, I'm here to tell a smaller story.  A local story.  A story of the tree in the picture, the man who took the photo, and the local folks who stood guard over the tree and the place that I call home.

Bob watching the fire on the Tobin Ridge

The Tobin resort community (formally the Historic Tobin Resort) is a village of residents.  It was attacked by the oncoming blaze on July 18.  We'd watched the approach that morning as the fire came down the Tobin Ridge (across the river and highway) in a nightmare, noisy fire-storm, and hoped it would stay over there. Then the fire crossed both barriers and began to burn up the mountain we inhabit, and we were told to evacuate.  

We 9 remaining residents had already packed up, and when the fire came, 4 of us went away, Jeffery and Grover went downstream to safety, and Roger, Anette and Russ stayed.  That night, the fire crews did a backfire operation to ring us with an unburnable safety zone, and they spent the next days "mopping up", which means keeping any little fires from springing up or getting out of control. That morning, Day 7 of the fire, the Jeffery and Uncle G. returned, and we Tobinfolk felt hope that the worst was over.

And therein lies the tale I wish to tell.  Local heroes.  A Fire Line. Vigilance.

Jeffery, Grover, Russ, Anette and Roger stayedon in Tobin to guard.  There were fire crew doing patrols, but on a few occasions, our locals used our VALUABLE FIRE LINE to extinguish flaming trees that fell, or spot fires that sprang up.  One time, a tree fell right near a structure, and would've burned the house had it not been for Locals and the Fire Line.  These folks also helped inform the new fire crews that arrived each day, which was NEEDED, as not all crews came fully informed about our specific property.  

There are Heroes in our world, and they are us, the Locals, the Home-and-Business Owners, the Canyon-folk who live and love here.

These 5 Tobin people have been without electricity since 7/14.  The drinking water system has needed to be repaired, and then, it had to be powered by a gas-run generator from a finite supply of fuel.  The Fire Line was damaged, yet with Jeffery's forethought, the tank was isolated to preserve the water we had stored already, and they used this water to keep our Candle Tree from spreading it's fire.

The candle becomes a flare and then a Sparkler, spewing flammage.

The comfort of self-protection.  OUR FIRE LINE HELPED SAVE US!!!!!

Thus, from now on The Candle Tree will make me think of Heroes, of Brave Locals, of Jeffery's calm management skills, and everyones' support for eachother in a time of crisis.  The Candle Trees will cool, the fires will die, and our world will begin to reconstruct itself, but whenever I see a scorched, misshapen remnant standing sentinel, I will think of the horror and the Heroism.  And I will pray for those still imperiled, I will defend those who refused to leave their homes, and I will think of how I lit a candle here, in my safe refuge, for all those I'd left to defend our home.

Tobin will recover.  We are "out of the woods" and ready to get to work to help our neighbors in Plumas County.  But we will also continue to look up the steep slopes behind our homes, and to view the ridges and mountains of our canyon as if there is danger lurking that could strike at any moment.  The Candle Tree will remind us to stay vigilant, and to appreciate the blessings that we have.

THANK YOU TO ALL THE FIRE CREWS, THE REPORTERS, THE DECISION MAKERS and the PROVIDERS OF SUPPORT.  

THANK YOU DEAR TOBINFOLK.  I LIGHT A CANDLE TO YOUR BRAVERY AND LOVE!

I am going back to Tobin today for the 3rd time since the Dixie Fire began, and this time, I may even get to stay!

NAMASTE

Jeffery in front of our house.  That brown cloud made me evacuate again after I was allowed to bring supplies in just the day before.

Russ and Anette at home after the back-fire.  You can see the grey-tone burn just above their heads.

The Marin County Fire Department, who guarded us and did the back-fire operation

There's Roger on the right in the red shirt.  Laurie and Brenda also evacuated from Little Haven, up the highway to the east, and I decided I had endured enough disasters through the years, I was going to flee from this one.  This view is up the Tobin Trail, which also burned.

Uncle Grover with Tobin Ridge in the background before Scary Parts 3-7 took place with oncoming fire.

OUR HEROES