Wildfire: Days Three–Four

A wave of intense heat scorches the air.

By the time we get to the Jeep, the searing hot wind has thickened with smoke.

I help Delphy into the passenger seat, toss her backpack into the rear seat, and then leap behind the wheel. Hoping with all my heart that the engine will start when I flip the lever and depress the starting pedal.

I’m gripping the wheel with all my might as we bounce along the ruts. Concentrating on keeping the vehicle on the trail and not veering off or colliding with a stump.

We’re flying, hitting twenty miles an hour according to the speed gauge.

Fire Service officials announced that the fight to contain the fire will concentrate resources and personnel on the southeastern edges of the conflagration. That’s a big word for ‘fire’ but it’s fun to say.

Fire Service officials announced that the fight to contain the fire will concentrate resources and personnel on the southeastern edges of the conflagration. That’s a big word for ‘fire’ but it’s fun to say.

Not sure how far away from the fire we’ve gotten, because the old logging road meanders around, looking for a level pathway through the deep woods.

In the early morning hours, wildfire erupted in the vicinity of remotely situated Piney Pond, and quickly engulfed hundreds of acres, cutting off power to this corner of the county.

In the early morning hours, wildfire erupted in the vicinity of remotely situated Piney Pond, and quickly engulfed hundreds of acres, cutting off power to this corner of the county.

We’re on backup generator now, with enough fuel for a few days. Heck, I’ll siphon the gas out of my car, if it comes to that.

Satellite images indicate that the Piney Pond fire was probably arson.

Hard to believe there’s someone out there angry enough, or evil enough, or stupid enough, to deliberately start a fire in a tinder-dry forest.

“Do what you have to, but I’m not walking.” She’s defiant.

“The best thing, we’ve got the tree as the fulcrum. Some call it the pivot point. I can’t do the math—Archimedes is the one who came up with the formula—but instinct tells me we need a lever at least ten feet long and strong enough so it won’t break. But not so heavy we can’t lift it!”

So we’re running deeper into the woods, following the tantalizing drone of the plane. Hoping to find an opening in the forest canopy. Hoping to be seen. Hoping to be rescued.

So we’re running deeper into the woods, following the tantalizing drone of the plane. Hoping to find an opening in the forest canopy. Hoping to be seen. Hoping to be rescued.

In the deep woods, you think you’re walking a straight line, but chances are you’re going around in a circle. Dad explained it to me. Your dominant foot strides slightly longer, okay? Makes you veer to the right or left. One way to be sure you’re going straight is to leave marks as you go, like a cut in the tree bark.

“Who said I was going to give up?” She’s indignant. “I’m just mad about getting us lost. I’m not giving up, you got that straight?”

“That was an accident,” she says earnestly.

Something light and furtive padding over the pine needles. What lives in these woods?

She says, scornfully, “No? Big and tall might be okay for some girls, but me? You think I don’t know what I look like? Big Friendly Giant, ho ho ho!”

Immediately she swings her bad foot to the right and starts loping along. I have to jog to keep up.

We're searching along the logging trail for a branch that’s strong enough to pry the Jeep off the tree.

We trundle along at about ten miles an hour.

Imagine your head is a periscope rising just above the treetops. One moment you’re blind, and then you can see for miles.

I saw buildings, Delphy, a bunch of buildings! A big shingled main building and lots of little white cabins.

Maybe four or five miles as the crow flies. Too far to risk getting lost again in the woods.

The stand is nothing fancy, just a plywood platform, maybe ten feet off the ground, with four canvas walls daubed for camouflage, which makes it hard to see.

Plus, we have cans of tuna and a full jug of water. May not sound like much, but when you’re famished and thirsty, it goes down like Thanksgiving dinner with all the trimmings.