River of Logs

I haven't written in a while because we've been BUSY. The short, heavy rain we had last week (about 3/4 inch in 20 minutes) led to quite a flood in our post-wildfire property.

I knew it was coming down hard, but when I looked out the back window, I was still shocked. There was a river of black dirt 10-20 feet wide crashing down the hillside in a usually dry stream bed.

By then, water was pouring over the road.

What I didn't know then, was that it was washing down over 100 logs- heavy green timber cut in 6 foot lengths by the neighbor after the burn. (up to 24 inch diameter)

They all got stockpiled in our pond- threatening to wash out the driveway.

So, guess who got to play on a tractor all week?  Unfortunately, we figure the flood carried about 600 cubic meters of ash, sand and soil to our creek bed, so it's been hard to make a dent in it. But, Paul was able to move the logs and clear a gully, so water can at least get through and not take out the road or driveway next time it rains.

Anybody got a dump truck? Or need some nice, black soil? It's free! ;)

The Big Bear Caper

I always wondered why, when I'm at the top of a mountain ridge, I never see any wildlife. It doesn't make sense. I see the elk, deer, cougar and bear scat on the ground. But, when I'm hiking and look down on a distant meadow, they are always empty.

Except this one time...

We were hiking up a steep, rocky ridge near our house, and when we reached the top, as usual, I scanned all the open meadow areas for critters. Nothing. Then- ah! Some movement! As I squinted to see what it was, it came right out into a clearing. A bear!  A BIG bear!

I was so excited, until I realized that it was making a bee-line for our neighbor's house. Now, these wonderful neighbors are retired. They feed half the hummingbirds migrating through Colorado, I'm sure of it. They normally have 8 feeders out, and by July, every feeder has a bird at every station. It's a wonder no one has gotten an eyeball skewered walking around their porch, there are so many birds swarming.

On this particular day, our neighbors had mentioned that they would be in town. I knew their feeders would be out (they go in at night) and calling that bear like a honey-lullaby. I also knew he would break every one in the process of drinking them, worse, associate humans with food. So, quick as we could, we scrambled down the steep rocks and grassy slope, jumped in our good 'ol truck and drove up to the neighbors.

When we got there, 10 minutes after we saw the bear, our neighbor came out smiling.
"Hi! What are you two up to today?" She said, blissfully unaware.

"Rescuing your hummingbird feeders from a huge bear because you're not home." I replied.

He was probably sitting up the hill listening to us and planning a midnight raid, but we'll never know. None of us saw that bear again that day.

Black holes and Miracle Plants (Wildfire Part 4)

Here's how the burn area looks today:

 Holes created form burn-out tree roots made walking in the snow interesting...
some of them are big!

pioneer crocus flower - taking the lead in forest restoration

the meadows are coming back fast

bluebells also taking the lead 

Raging Wall of Fire (Wildfire part 3)

There was no stopping it. Driven by 60 mile-an-hour gusts, the wall of fire consumed everything in its path. Almost.

We had been evacuated and living with friends for 3 weeks (generous friends!) when we got the news. I could tell by Paul's tone of voice... after three weeks of moving in all directions around our house, the wildfire had finally devoured our home. The firefighters wisely fled to get out of the way of the inferno. They told our neighbor that the fire was so hot and so fast, no houses could possibly be left up there.

We found out two days later they were wrong. 

Another 10 days of waiting and we returned home. It had, indeed, swarmed everywhere on our property. It burned several outbuildings to the ground. It kissed the house on all sides. A birdhouse two feet outside the living room window was reduced to a pile of ash. Scorch marks, like war tattoos, adorned the legs of our deck and nearby trees. But the house was fine- not even smoke damage.

A Fire "tornado": shovel handle (above) burned, along with the rocks, but the cardboard two feet away is untouched! 

Incidentally- there really IS such a thing as a fire tornado!

Colorado Pantanal

We've had around 40 inches of snow in the past 3 weeks. Which was, mostly, fun.

Here's the progression from the latest dump:

May 1- Snow? really? It's supposed to be "April fools", not "May fools!"

 May 2 - Sun's Out!

Frost Anemones!

Icicle stalactites by the waterfall

May 4 - happy moss...

Colorado Pantanal 

Bang, Bang, Lights Out (Wildfire, part 1)

The explosion of sound hit me with such force I thought the windows of the house might shatter. I sat bolt-upright in bed, my heart leaping out of my chest. I had been sound asleep when the lightening strike connected, but its bellow would wake the dead. The lights that were on in the next room - my partner was still up - went black. When I realized what happened, my first thought was..."Oh, no, I hope our (newly upgraded) solar system didn't just get fried."

Little did I know, this was the LEAST of what was to be fried.

That lightening storm ignited the spark that ultimately caused over 130 square miles of Colorado to burn.

Three days later, our neighbor, a veteran fire fighter, stopped by. He pointed to the fluffy cloud beyond the hill. "You see that cloud?" Yeah, we saw it. "It's not a cloud, it's smoke from a fire. I'm packing up my car and getting out of here."

As luck would have it, we were having a new propane cooking stove delivered that day. Right after the neighbor left, I called them to suggest they postpone our delivery. No answer. Minutes later, the delivery guys came walking up the road.

"Hi. Sorry we're late. Our truck broke down just a short way down your road."

You mean in the section that's one-lane? Where there's a rock wall on one side and trees on the other and only room for one car?

"Yeah."

Seriously bad timing. The next hour was spent helping the guys move the truck so we and the neighbors weren't blocked in. They brought the new stove up, via our truck, and installed it. In the two hours those guys waited for their replacement truck to show up, we became buddies. Since it was already evening, we threw sausages and potatoes on the grill for everybody and sat in our 'patio' furniture, to watch that cloud that was not a cloud.

"Sure is quiet up here." One of the guys commented.

Little did we know it was the quiet before the storm....

No one would believe these stories

No one would believe the half the things that have happened to us since we moved to the mountains, off the grid, and off the proverbial cliff.

I told a few stories.  Peoples' eyes bugged out.

"Why do you stay?" they ask.

"Because my soul has become fused to the land," I answer.

But the questions keep coming. So, I decided to share some of our adventures and way of life via this blog.

May it bring a smile to your lips, warmth to your heart, and appreciation for your dish washer.

(More to come!)