Aftermath of the Cameron Peak Fire
This is an ongoing collection of moments from the places I've been. This is part two of my trip camping in northwestern Colorado. Part One is called "The Mountain Floodgates".
We found the rest of our travel party. Rather, we found their cars. They were already at the campsite, so we parked alongside them. The site was an excavated plateau of land that could only be reached by a steep dirt road. This elevated campground reminded me of a model village sitting on a wall shelf. It felt like the mountains across the river were watching us in our tiny village. It didn’t take long to notice that the range was ravaged by wildfire, and I found myself transfixed by the landscape that remained.
The forests surrounding Cameron Peak burned for approximately 5 months, leaving behind a landscape that appeared almost extraterrestrial. This was the closest I had come to the site of a “disaster”, and all I could think as we unloaded was that we were trespassing and should head for less desolate accommodations.
The property manager stopped by to introduce herself. I was incredibly curious to hear about her experience with the events that took place across the river, but she made no mention of them. I wasn’t one to pry; I was sure her experience of nearly losing her business was something she wasn’t eager to discuss.
Still, I was mentally preparing for her to provide a cryptic but well-intentioned warning about wandering too far at night. It was easy to imagine whatever force caused such destruction was lying in wait on the other side of the valley, ready to sweep across the river once we lowered our guard.
Firefighting has always been mentioned in terms of “control”, and it was easy to see how uncontrollable this fire must have been. I remembered seeing news graphics of the land affected by the fires. As it grew and spread, these graphics started to resemble the advances of military forces. I couldn’t help but imagine we were about to spend the night on some demented battlefield.
We finished setting up camp, and had time to relax. Though the intentions of our stay were to relax, I kept thinking of how chaotic this environment must have been less than 6 months earlier. Wildfires were a common enough occurrence in Colorado, but the only “encounters” I ever had with one were in conversations. I never needed to evacuate, and I never needed to leave anything behind. I felt embarrassingly fortunate once I realized I had never quite understood their destructive force.
Dinner came later that afternoon. On other camping trips, there would always be a mountain breeze that constantly ruffled the treetops. I would usually hear this breeze more often than I would feel it on my skin or in my hair. Here in Poudre Canyon though, that breeze was replaced with a vast silence. The wind had nothing to shake as it passed through a canyon of scorched timber. We ate our meal in this vacuum, grateful for the tranquility, but wary of what caused it.
To read part one, click here
I’m excited that you have decided to explore these pictures with me. If you would like to know more about this project, check out this article. If you would like to share a photo that matters to you, please do so through the link below. The link to join the mailing list is below that.
Cheers,
NS