I am sure it did not escape some of you that I mentioned our trip to Rocky Mountain National Park was in October 2020--the year that the infamous East Troublesome and Cameron Peak fires ripped through RMNP.
We had monitored the fire for weeks leading up to the trip. Although we were worried, we (perhaps foolishly) decided to to take the trip anyway, but decided to be ready to pack up and leave with minutes notice. Anything that was absolutely critical and had to come with us stayed in bins near out cabin door; we would leave with the two bins and ourselves. If we had time, there would be more packing. In retrospect, as I type that, it seems bananas, but I am a plan for the worst type person, so I can't say that I was ACTUALLY thinking we would do that, just that I would plan for it, as always.
When we first arrived in Estes Park, the Cameron Peak fire had been holding steady, through half of September and the first part of October. East Troublesome had not even started until after our arrival. My brother, who lives in Arizona and has more than once had to evacuate his home due to fire, gave us some things to watch for and other information, and kept a close eye on it from afar.
Almost immediately upon arrival, we met the neighbors of our cabin. They are full time residents, and we all took an instant liking to each other. They warned us about locking our car to keep bears out (!!) and making sure doors were locked for the same reason, and we hopefully amused them with kid antics. They also were keeping a close eye on the fires, and were steadily preparing to leave, just in case--but either way, they were planning on a road trip out east towards the end of October, so they were leaving either way. They'd promised us that if they heard something on their radio or their alerts, they would come bang on our door to tell us it was time to leave. This was reassuring but also very yikes.
On October 13, the Cameron Peak started rapidly expanding, and on October 14, the East Troublesome was fire was spotted and grew rapidly. My brother and his family were coming out on the 16th, but were getting increasingly nervous. Again, in retrospect, if the family who has more experience with wildfires than you do is nervous, rethink your anxiety levels. We kept watching the reports, I signed myself for the residential and county alerts to my phone, and my brother came.
Amid the obvious amazing time we had, there was a low level of buzzing anxiety. We watch the reports, we refreshed the fire maps, and by this point (October 16th through 18th) you could see clear towering stacks of smoke in the direction of both fires. It started to feel a bit like Estes Park was being hunted by a fire god, using his hands to peer through trees and mountains. In what almost did it for me, my brother mapped out the roads around us, and realizing we were on a dead end road, made plans for what he needed to do if we had to off-road to escape. Again, hindsight.
Our last two days in RMNP (the 19th and 20th, leaving the morning of the 21th around 10 am) were still magical and wonderful, but also felt like we were waiting on tippie toes. Our hikes all had more than a faint smell of campfire to them. Many of pictures have a general hazy quality, and it's not a filter--it's smoke. The mountains became lurking giants rather than brilliantly detailed against a blue sky. We said our goodbyes to our neighbors, exchanged numbers and addresses, and headed out to Colorado Springs. We drove for a few hours before the smoke really cleared and all the while, we looked back at it. My impression of being surrounded by smoke only grew stronger the more we moved away--it seemed like Estes Park was being enveloped.
So much haze.
That impression was correct. On October 21, the day we left, both fires grew exponentially and expanded. The Cameron Peak fire grew wildly and began closing Estes Park in. The Est Troublesome fire grew into RMNP and crossed the continental divide, and reached the western edge of Estes Park on October 23. East Troublesome fire came within a literal hairbreadth of burning the beloved YMCA of the Rockies, and the very cabin where we stayed. The fire was halted less than a mile from both. The YMCA of the Rockies described it as a miracle that it didn't take them, and that seems very true.
I watched this unfold what felt like minutes after leaving. We were still in Colorado--down in Colorado Springs. The places we had just beheld and been amazed by were on fire. The place I thought was the most magical wonderscape I'd ever seen was burning and black. It was heartbreaking and sobering.
I'm sure you've seen the pictures of people fleeing Estes Park. I won't put them here, because they're not mine and lawyers love copyright laws. There's the "Welcome to Estes Park" sign with deep orange smokey skies; The Stanley Hotel, looking again like it's in a apocalyptic horror movie with a bright orange sky; the lights of Grand Lake with the fires of Mordor about to overtake it; and images of cars lined up, trying to leave, while black smoke turned the sky to ink as the fire stretched its finger over them.
I think the image that broke my heart first can be found here. It's Lake Estes, with elk and other animals at the water, and the world is orange with fire.
If this small brush left such a lasting impression on me, just a person who was there and loves the place, I can't imagine what it was like for people who live there, work there, or have even deeper connections. It was all so scary and devastating. I did track down our neighbors--calling them to make sure they had gotten out okay, which they had--and I am grateful for their unasked for, unprompted kindness and protectiveness, when they had no obligation to do that for us.
There are areas of the park still very much in recovery, and some areas are still closed, which you can read more about here. It also includes links to information on the fires themselves and their timelines, as well as a link to the Rocky Mountain Conservancy, which is taking donations to help with recovery efforts.
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