From the Mind of Trevor Stone

A popular casual topic of discussion the last few weeks has been that the Front Range has never gone this long without getting the first snow. Since October we've had two or three overnight dustings without any measurable accumulation. We've had far more unseasonably warm days, with plenty of "Mid-sixties and sunny" T-shirt weather in mid-December.

Weather forecasters predicted a big snow on New Year's Eve. The snow rode in on the tails of a big wind storm, with gusts in some places over 100 miles per hour. Last week also featured 100+ MPH gusts at the airport in Broomfield and other topologically ripe locations. Unfortunately, this week's gusts reportedly knocked down some power lines near Marshall Mesa which sparked fires in unusually dry grass—extra dry because we haven't had any snow since April, natch. The strong winds quickly pushed the fire eastward through open space, forcing the evacuation of the towns of Superior and Louisville. Wind pushed fire onto houses and through neighborhoods; emergency officials estimate that more than 500 homes were burned. This makes it the most structure-destructive fire in Colorado history, despite being far smaller than the month-long major forest fires we've seen in the past. A lot of affected residents probably wouldn't have thought of themselves as in the Wildland-urban interface; while many of the affected neighborhoods are next to open space, the fire also jumped the highway and burnt houses where the closest thing to a wild space is a greenbelt along a creek.

Fortunately, the forecast snow arrived this morning, dousing the fires and bringing the first significant moisture to the area in several months. This is now the second year in a row that a fire burning within a couple miles of our family's dwellings was extinguished by snow; the East Troublesome Fire last November climbed over the Continental Divide and got close to our family's cabin near Estes Park. While a dry final three months of the year and unseasonably warm December days aren't uncommon in Colorado, recent years have escalated the dry weather and unpredictable precipitation or lack thereof.

We were unaware of the fire for most of the day yesterday. I took the day off work and joined Kelly's family for a visit to Meow Wolf in Denver. It's sort of what you might get if Dr. Seuss and Burning Man teamed up to make an interactive art museum. Driving to an errand in Commerce City we noticed the huge wall of smoke stretching across the north Denver metro area. For quite awhile I thought it was probably dust getting kicked up by the strong winds; the colors and patterns in the clouds didn't look like wildfire smoke to me. I guess I'm just used to tree smoke coming over the mountains; a grass and suburb fire has a much different character. US-36 was closed from Broomfield, and we wanted to stop at the Asian grocery store there for some supplies anyway. Not knowing whether we had power or any wind damage at our home in Boulder, we decided it would be best to face the unknown with a full stomach, so we stuck around for pho and boba.

Driving home along US-287 through Broomfield we caught some glimpses of burning fires in the darkness of night, with cars lining several streets so folks could get a look. It's a sight I've seen before, but never in late December. As we approached home we drove through some blackout neighborhoods, but drew hope when the part of Arapahoe near our house was lit up. As we pulled onto the street we could tell luck was not in our favor, as we routed around two utility trucks parked next to a large tree in the middle of the road, and the whole block was dark, save for a few houses with a solar+battery system, keeping the holiday lights shining. Our neighbor gave us a quick update: several trees around our house had fallen, including a few that took down power lines. The neighbors right behind us had a tree uproot (falling away from the fence, and also not endangering their house), and a power line got hit by a tree crossing our next-door neighbor's house. We took a walk around the block in an odd mix of serene quiet mixed with occasional bright spotlights from utility trucks. A neighbor down the street had a tall blue spruce uproot and fall across their yard and driveway, and our neighbors across the street said one of their trees narrowly missed a service vehicle that afternoon. Our house came through pretty well; our glass patio table flipped over and landed 15 feet away from its starting position, but doesn't seem to have cracked. One of our sheds had the latch tear off and then the door got jammed stuck inside, but other than that we just had a lot of sticks littering the yard.

Being practiced Burners and festival attendees, we had plenty of flashlights on hand. I even picked up a 100 amp-hour LiFePo4 battery this fall to power Kelly's CPAP while camping, so I charged our phones and listened to both local FM radio and the local amateur radio emergency response channel on my ham radio. We gathered important items in case we needed to evacuate overnight and otherwise took it easy in the dark. The battery+CPAP setup worked like a charm; I didn't expect to use it at home before giving it a run in a tent. Power came back at 4:15 in the morning (shout out to the hard-working Xcel Energy crews) and New Year's Eve brought the wet snow we've been needing all month.

Hearts out to my friends and coworkers who live in Superior and Louisville, and may everyone's 2022 be a lot more chill.

I didn't get a shot of the big plume of red and gray smoke from the Flagstaff fire this afternoon, but I got some epic photos of the smoky sunset tonight.

The fire started from a lightning strike in really dry Colorado vegetation. It'd be nice if thunderstorms would do more of the stormy part and less of the thunder part. I'm safe, but folks a mile or two away are on pre-evacuation notice.

June's usually the wet month. July and August may suck even worse…