This Week A Year Ago: The Tres Lagunas Fire

For some reason I have a bit of an obsession with thinking about where I was or what I was doing some period of time ago. For example, this time one week ago I was just returning from Philadelphia. This time 8 years ago, Patrick and I had just returned from a 9 week trip to Southeast Asia. Fascinating, I know. This obsession helps me remember some of little moments in my life, and certainly makes me think about some of the big moments in my life on a fairly regular basis.

So, this week, a year ago, the Tres Lagunas Fire started in the Pecos Canyon, just north of my parents house, and directly across the road from the piece of property my grandparents had a house on when I was growing up (Timberland). I remember quite well, it was the Thursday after Memorial Day and I was at my desk at work, slightly bored, and trolling the local news sites (I was a bit of a local news junkie, thankfully, I’m mostly over that). There was a story about one of the members of the board of the organization I was working for, and there was a very small story about a fire that had recently broken out in the Pecos Canyon. There had been fires before that had been fairly easily controlled, so I didn’t think too much of it but picked up the phone to call my mom to see if she’d heard any other details. She works at a school and their seniors were graduating that day and she was in charge of the graduation. I really didn’t expect her to pick up the phone, but when she did, there was a hint of panic in her voice. She had spoken with my dad, who was at home at the time the fire started and he urged her to get home right away. No one had any real details and I really believed at that time that they’d control it that afternoon or maybe by the next morning and everyone would go on their merry way. Boy was I wrong!

The fire spread very quickly and seemed to be growing in all directions. It began on the west side of  Highway 63 at Timberland and jumped the road almost immediately, where it decimated the Timberland property. At the same time, it moved north and east, where it burned to the back of the Tres Lagunas property. Back on the east side of the road it ripped through the part of the forest where I spent my childhood skipping from our house to my grandparents. It burned all the way around the house I grew up in and to the back of the boys camp area. It topped the ridge behind the main Brush Ranch property and came over at the barn and burned up to the edge of the property on the east side all the way to behind the Lodge cabin. Meanwhile, on the north end of things, it burned up high behind Tres Lagunas and dipped down into the Holy Ghost Canyon, where it jumped from one side to the other. On the east side, it burned high up on the ridge and down into the Davis Willow area. There are some relatively good maps on this website. This was all over a period of about two weeks, but those first couple of days were the worst.

I was able to stay in decent contact with my mom for the rest of that afternoon but headed north to Santa Fe later that day. I had planned to take that Friday off of work anyway. I spent the next several days at Frankie’s, a local restaurant in Pecos, sharing information via social media and helping to coordinate efforts to collect and deliver supplies to the firemen.

My brother headed up the canyon to help my dad defend their property on Thursday afternoon, and by Friday “mandatory” evacuations were in effect. My dad and brother stayed to fight the fire along with several other long time residents and friends. I was able to get up the canyon to deliver supplies for the firefighters just as the evacuation orders were set into motion. I drove up the canyon with a carload of bottled water, sports drinks, batteries, sunscreen, chapstick, sandwiches, canned goods, and first aid equipment, all donated by very generous community members and organizations. I went alone, and it was the most eerie drive up the canyon I can remember. As I got farther and farther north, the smoke settled into the deeper parts of the canyon and created a strange orange glow. When I rounded the corner at Brush Ranch, the hillside was dotted with fireman carrying axes and chainsaws. They were clearing the hillside in hopes of stopping the spread of the fire to the south west.

Smoke settling into the canyon as I drove north to deliver supplies.

I pulled into the driveway at my parents and drove as fast as I could up to the house. No one was there, but the east border of their property was swarming with firefighters and I spotted my brother on one of the hoses behind the barn. The fire burned to within 20 feet of the barn, and within 50 feet of the house. Luckily, when it came over the ridge above them, it lost steam as it moved downhill and by the time it reached their property, it was mostly burning on the ground. Still, it destroyed lots of trees and there were several holes in the ground where trees once stood that had flames shooting out of them. The whole scene was bizarre. The air was so thick I could hardly breathe and I just remember my dad, looking so exhausted and desperate to save our little piece of heaven. His hair was disheveled, lips chapped, eyes bloodshot, clothes and face covered in ash and soot, and he was doing EVERYTHING in his power to keep the fire off of their property.

The fire burning on the ground about 50 feet from my parents house (that’s their house in the pic).

The fire burning directly behind the barn.

After making sure my dad, brother, and firefighters they were working with were all stocked up on supplies, I headed a bit further north to the Tererro General Store, where my best friend and her family were. They were well supplied and safe, so I headed on my way. I stopped at the volunteer fire department and dropped off a few more things with the help of my dad, who had a few choice words for the Forest Service staff who were onsite. My mom was loaded up and ready to evacuate with their dogs and we headed to Santa Fe, not knowing when we’d hear from my dad or brother.

The view of the fire from Tererro looking south. 

We didn’t hear from them for almost 24 hours. The road was blocked, there was no electricity, and no phone service up the canyon. When we finally did receive word, it was good, the fire had mostly cleared the immediate area with no injuries or structures lost. We were so relieved!

This photo was taken just north of my parents property by a neighbor during evacuations.

Another photo taken during the evacuation from the road looking up the hillside.

The next few weeks are a bit of a blur (as I was mostly consumed by trying to keep my morning sickness a secret), but a few weeks after the fire, we went up the Canyon and my dad took me around the property on his four wheeler. It was heartbreaking to see the places where some of my best memories were formed completely destroyed. Gone were the willows by the stream that created tunnels and mazes, gone were the raspberry bushes behind the old house, gone were the moss gardens we’d build for the fairies to sleep on, gone were the many forts and hiding places we frequented.

It’s easy to see the fire as a negative thing, and the residents and habitat of the Pecos Canyon will be dealing with the aftermath of such devastation for a very long time, but I try to see it as a natural thing for the forest (even if the cause, a downed powerline, is far from natural). It will be forever changed, but from the ashes there is already new green growth and the forest will revive itself.

We were all so lucky that there were no injuries and no structures lost in the fire, and the men and women who worked so hard to protect private and public lands are in my thoughts this week. Their work has not been forgotten and I’m so grateful for all they did to save a place so sacred to me and many others.

This pic was taken a few weeks after the fire from the south east side of my parents house, you can see where the fire burned in the trees. 

This pic was taken a few weeks after the fire, in a little gully to the south of my parents house. We’d build a fort with our niece and nephew two weekends before the fire started where the log spans the width of the gully.