Unloading Bert was a time suck and took more than an hour. The time was still early, just before 9 a.m., so the morning wouldn’t be lost. Now they would take the lead to the other side.
“Single file, everyone!” called out Lonnie over the radio, once they had reached the top. “Let’s give each other enough room to navigate if needed, but not enough to get split up. We’re at near 12,000 feet above sea level, so pop your ears if you need to; and if you get a headache, it’s normal. This Divide designates which ocean the rivers run into. Some will hit the Pacific, others the Atlantic, and some spill into the Gulf of Mexico—that’s a fun fact you may not know. We will stop at the bottom to reload Bert on to the trailer and get some lunch. With any luck, it will be smooth going after that.”
With Bert in the lead, we made our way down the back side of the Divide. Taking extra time creeping down the steep grades, we made it to the bottom, stopping for a quick lunch while getting Bert loaded back on the trailer.
* * * *
It was the children who first saw the smoke, asking who was camping so far away. I was helping the best I could with getting Bert loaded, and we all blew it off for a minute.
“Daddy!” called out Hudson.
“Yeah, buddy, just a minute,” I said, without looking at him.
“Daddy, there’s some smoke way off.”
“There are a lot of campsites now, son,” I responded.
Other kids joined, getting all of our attention at once.
“That’s no campfire,” said Lonnie, pointing to the now-obvious plume of smoke off in the distance, to the north.
Some of us got binoculars out but couldn’t see flames.
“I think it’s in a valley,” said Jake, looking as well.
Lonnie already had the Rand McNally map out, as we tried our best to determine its location.
“It’s north and east of us, for sure, but not much,” said Lonnie. “Since we are traveling almost straight east, we should stay parallel to it. I can’t tell which way it’s headed, but I don’t want to get stuck up here trying to figure it out.”
“What about the wind direction?” asked his wife, loud enough so we all could hear.
“That can change in a minute up here,” Lonnie replied. “It’s another reason I don’t want to hang around. I want us to be long past this thing before we lay our heads down tonight.”
* * * *
“We leave in five minutes,” he called out. “Finish your lunches, or eat them on the way.”
We had seen fire firsthand more than once, and this was different than the last time, for sure.
“There are no planes coming up this high in the mountains to put this thing out,” I said. “There needs to be a good rain or this thing will be an inferno in a few days’ time.”
“It’s already getting bigger,” said Vlad, “however, that’s possible.”
I looked up from my binocular’s fine focus, and it looked like more smoke to me too.
“Let’s go! Let’s go!” called out Lonnie. “We can talk while we’re driving,” he added, pulling ahead once again. “Any adult not driving needs to keep their eyes on the smoke and report anything new!”
Vlad, Jake and I took turns scanning the area with and without binoculars. Lonnie was making good time and maybe going a bit too fast, but he was in the lead.
“Flames up on top!” called out Vlad.
“Where?” I asked, scanning the ridge in detail.
“Right up there,” he pointed, so I could zoom in.
“I got it,” I announced. “It’s going up the next ridge over—the valley couldn’t contain it.”
“What’s near here?” asked one of the ladies.
“Allenspark, a small town, is pretty close. Estes Park is the one we need to make it through to get where we’re going,” I said over the radio. “We have two choices to get halfway down the canyon from there, but then we are committed for sure. Right now, we need to keep moving. Don’t stop unless it’s urgent.”
We drove down the windy roads in low gear, saving our brakes and watching the growing fire over our left shoulders for the next two hours.
“We’re coming up on Estes Park,” said Lonnie—“just about three miles ahead.”
“It’s a pretty good-sized town,” I added, “at least for these parts, so I’m expecting a barricade and some type of passage trade. Let’s slow down when we get close. They may take Bert as more of a threat than a curiosity.”
“Estes Park—Two Miles” the road sign read. I looked back at the massive fire that before the day would have planes dropping slurry or water on it, picked up from Lake Estes in the middle of town. Not today. The sky was an orange-black, taunting anybody brave enough to stick around.
“Watch the dogs,” I called out, holding Ringo’s collar.
“Why is that?” asked Joy over the radio.
“That’s why,” I said, watching the parade of animals coming out of the trees and into the large meadows.
Ringo gave me a 150-pound tug, wanting to jump off the trailer.
“Easy, boy,” I said, watching Jake have an easier time with Mini.
Deer and elk poured from the trees, with rarely seen predators doing the same. Black bear, coyotes, foxes, and even a mountain lion could be seen in close proximity to each other.
“There’s nothing else up here that will make predators and prey stick so close together without something getting eaten,” I said to Vlad and Jake.
“They are all prey to the flames now,” added Jake.
* * * * * * *
Chapter Thirty-three
Estes Park, Colorado
“Barricade up ahead,” called out Lonnie. “We’re going to approach real slow.”
I stood up, but not too high, to look through my binoculars at the barricade I guessed would be at the Rocky Mountain Park entrance we were coming up on
