September 27th
The Boeing Vertol of Columbia Helicopters hauls water to rain over a fire to the west. Smoke scent haze this Sunday at Priest. Sun reflects diamonds in the sand, in the waves and in the spokes of fat tire trail bikes. The wag Golden Era sits in sphinx pose facing the forest in intent squirrel surveillance, but also courageously growls at joggers and the bikes of Nebraska riders. Here, there is no postcode envy for this GPS address while “in waiting” for the moon.
As evening shadows into dusk, the “first” in the sky becomes a la Sagan, billions of stars, a prelude to the red moon rising over the Kaniksu Mountains ridges. Through the evolution of the lunar eclipse, shooting stars for wishes and small beach fire for watch warmth. With the end of the eclipse, the seemingly infinite count of stars becomes, just many as the full moon reflects nearly daylight lumens. A light sleep on the Priest Lake beach with the waves and distant owls for white noise.
September 28th
Morning hike out past powerful reminders of forces of nature from June 29th wind storm that left large cedars downed. Being here, then, would have been as dangerous and terrifying as a bombardment.
Later, lost and looking for a trailhead, “Leukolugs” the white ford, begins emitting sounds from “down under” mimicking impending mechanical apocalypse. During investigation, an accidental cephalic bang draws blood and more stars to see. “Even the comatose don’t dance and tell.” Placed in reverse the sound suddenly clunks and the stone in the brake is shot out.
Hike aborted, camped under full moon again and stars at Reeder Bay.
September 29th
Cafeinating, chaired on Reeder Bay beach digesting a chapter of the Botany of Desire while dog intermittently chases tossed the tennis ball. Out of the south a BO 105 materializes, circles the bay before thump thumping west.
Hanna Flats hike interpreted with additional paths that in the winter are x country skiing trails. Stillness but still, the sounds of distant rotorwings.
A Sullivan Lake redux as evening approaches contemplating the low water boat launch and watching from the the high and dry dock. Passing over the north face of Hall Mountain, the twin blade helicopter slows, hovers, and descending, drops the dangling basket into the water, lifts and swings south returning minutes later for free refills. Astonishing all of these rotor wing visits during this sortie.
Dispersal parked along Sullivan Creek NF-22 the passing traffic is exclusively fire crews breaking for the night.
September 30th
Early morning echoes a rumble of returning fire crews. A deja of yesterday with Sullivan substituting for Priest. Back at the boat launch but in audience at the shore, the twin blades and the BO are “no shows”.
The area of fire visible from the Mill Pond shore can be seen on Round Top. A short walk about Mill Pond where about 100 years ago, a dam was constructed with a boardwalk over a flume allowing Metaline Falls residents to walk not only to the pond, but to Sullivan Lake. The remains of the flume now lay scattered in the overgrowth of the forest. Controversially, there are plans by the federal government to remove and restore the area to its natural state.
Metaline Falls was a boom mining town but has been in decline . There has been little production of anything with the exception of Benny & Joon and The Postman. The local cafe is crowded for lunch and is a favorite for the thriving Border Patrol. The surrounding beauty seems at odds with the slow disrepair of the town. The forest seems poised to slowly do some restoration.
From here, on this west side of the active fire area, clear visibility to the south where, there is home.
