Upcountry Tales

@ohhdahhling

We live in Mokelumne hill almost almost had to evacuate due to the Electra fire that started July 4th 2022.  Luckily, we were in the clear because the fire was heading away from us, but we wanted to help out some how for those that did have to evacuate, so my daughter and I volunteered with ETA (evacuation teams of Amador) because we both love animals. People who had to evacuate were able to bring their animals to the Laughton ranch where they were looked after by volunteers. We walked and played with dogs, cleaned out the cages the chickens were in, fed, andwatered them.. we were happy to be able to help out our community in some way.

Lindsey and Lily, Mokelumne Hill. 

@houseplanthaley

My wildfire evacuation story: it was August of 2021 and the Caldor fire was raging across El Dorado county in Northern California. As the fire raced towards South Lake Tahoe, where I live, the town was a mix between melancholy and panic. The air had been thick with smoke all summer long. My BF & I had decided to escape the smoke for a day and drove down to San Fransisco to breathe fresh air. As we were driving home, whoever is in charge of this kind of stuff, changed the fire status to “evacuation warning” meaning we could be evacuated at anytime. Upon arriving home from SF at 2am, I frantically began packing up all of my prized possessions while my BF went to sleep. Lol. After going to bed around 4:30, I woke up at 7am to beg my BF not to go to work. That we would be evacuated at anytime and I didn’t want us to be separated. He was more worried about losing a day’s pay so into work he went & off they sent him on a service call to an area with no cell reception. Approximately an hour And a half later, the evacuation “warning” was changed to “mandatory”, as the fire was now burning within a mile and a half of the town. I was panic loading everything into our big truck while sobbing, trying to get a hold of my BF to let him know we had to leave. His phone was going straight to voicemail. I called the shop for his work, who then called the client’s landline to let Wyatt know he needed to return to town to evacuate. Still sobbing and loading up our items, I worried the fire was coming too quickly. I loaded our stuff, my house plants, and our dog, jumped into the truck & joined the line of fellow evacuees trying to take the single remaining exit out of town. After an hour in traffic, we finally made it to the open highway where I called a friend who lived “down the hill” in Carson City. I asked if I could wait at her house until I heard from Wyatt & we were able to reunite. Still shaking with adrenaline upon arriving at my friends, I finally got a hold of Wyatt. He wasstuck in evacuation traffic trying to leave town. Traffic was at a dead standstill and he had been in the same place for almost an hour now. He decided to go the back road through town to get to our house to double check we had everything we needed & then re-joined evacuation traffic. SIX HOURS after beginning his evacuation, Wyatt & I were finally reunited in Carson City where we planned our next moves. His former stepfather lived relatively close and so graciously offered an open room for us to stay in. We ended up spending our evacuation week close to home in South Reno, worrying about whether not the whole town had burned up. Thanks to our insurance we didn’t need to worry about finances as they made sure we were taken care of while displaced. I’m sure there are more terrifying evacuation stories out there but this was ours & I hope not to experience it again anytime soon!!

@deer_lodge_pine_grove

“Colin looked out the window on July 4th cookout and said, “I hope that’s not what I think it is!” gazing westward at a mushroom cloud of smoke. We kept a diligent eye on the smoke until we could see the red glow of flames emanating from underneath the clouds of smoke. The planes to fight the fire soon arrived, along with the news helicopters. we turned on the news. That’s when we knew it was go time! The same planes flying past our windows, we would see seconds later on the tv news coverage.

We packed up a dog, 3 rats, along with a bare minimum of personal supplies. And along with most our neighbors got out of town to Lodi and stayed at a motel 6, until one of my friends who has a vacation house in downtown Sutter Creek, told us to pack up and go to her house in Sutter Creek. What a relief that was.”

@mathewcutwright23

2 years ago

@basementcat22

We've been evacuated twice. Almost lost our house the first time.

@cwmerc 

Twice Paradise and Tahoe CA

Joscelyn Courtney

My fire evacuation experiences

1. October 2017, Tubbs Fire, Sonoma County

I was attending Sonoma State University as a freshman and renting a room off-campus with a professor in Bennett Valley. I was awoken at 6 am to my landlord at my bedroom door, urging me to pack my belongings as there was a wildfire raging nearby. I shook it off in disbelief until I went to the bathroom and saw the flames for myself, engulfing Bennett Peak. That’s when I kicked it into high gear and gathered my schoolwork and clothes into my car. I lived far from my family and was unsure what would happen, so I phoned a friend from high school that lived an hour south in San Francisco. She invited me to come take shelter with her in her studio apartment, an offer which I graciously accepted. Before I knew it, I was tripping around the city with a kindred friend, completely oblivious to the damage the wildfire was ravaging in the Sonoma and Napa Valley. Luckily I did not lose my rental, and it wasn’t until I returned home that I surveyed the havoc that had been wreaked during my getaway. It was soul crushing. I felt so much sorrow for the families, businesses, and entire communities like Glenn Ellen whose lives had been completely destroyed. It’s bittersweet to reflect on that period of my life since I lost that friend at the young age of 20. Rest in Paradise Leticia Hundley 🕊️ thank you for providing me with a place to stay when I needed it most throughout my adolescence. 

1. July 2023, Electra Fire, Amador County

It was the Fourth of July and I was just starting my evening shift at the restaurant when a coworker mentioned a fire had once again broke out in the Mokelumne Canyon. I instantly ran to check my phone and sure enough, my family and friends were trying to get ahold of me to warn me that a wildfire was surging near  Butte Mountain where I board my horse. I told my boss and they allowed me to go. I raced towards the plume that bloomed in the sky, antsy to change into my cowgirl getup and clear the horses off the ranch. I called my dad, who has a pickup truck, and asked him to meet me on our way. He dropped everything and together we got past the road blockades. Fellow boarders were already present and loading horses into trailers. I leapt into action and raced down to my pasture to capture the horses in it. My horse, not having been transported in over two years, quite literally jumped into the trailer, ready to go. Once he was accounted for, I began taking stock of what was left to evacuate. Just then, a convoy of trucks and trailers began pulling up the driveway to the ranch. It was a group of ETA volunteers, the Evacuation Teams of Amador, a local nonprofit organization dedicated to emergency response evacuations of livestock. I found myself at the head of leadership, because the ranch owner was in England at the time and our facility’s trainer was in Mexico. I had no other choice but to step up and direct the operation. I instructed my father to load all of the valuable tack from the sheds into his truck for safekeeping. Then I hopped in a stranger’s truck, devoid of introductory formalities, and directed this convoy of four trailers to the opposite side of the property to rescue the retired and elderly horses. As the plume of brown smoke unfurled above us, we captured and loaded horses that hadn’t been handled, let alone transported, in years. With their experience and assistance, we got them off the ranch in a timely manner. In the meantime, my father had taken the incentive to hookup the last remaining trailer and haul it out. I met him on the road and we rode together to Laughton’s Ranch, where we stowed away all of the tack he’d collected in a safe location. It was a relief, but I also felt uneasy about the future of the ranch. But by the grace of hardworking firefighters and pilots, the ranch remained untouched by the scorching flames nearby. I was astounded that we didn’t lose a single building or life to the fire. I’m especially grateful to our community members that stepped up to the plate during a time of crisis and did what was necessary to prevent the losses of our precious animals.