Just a quick update about the wildfires that are raging all throughout California.

My adopted home in the Golden State is more-or-less right at the base of the San Gabriel Mountains. My favorite road, Route 39 –  which I call The Milk Run – runs right through these beautiful mountains.The Milk Run starts about five miles from home, and, on a good, traffic-free day, I can make a short lap around this terrific road in less than an hour.

Last Tuesday, a fire was reported near the base of the Morris Dam. This dam, nestled between two mountains, is the first real landmark that I pass on a Milk Run.

The hills surrounding the Morris Dam are covered with dry scrub brush. I think the last time it rained in Southern California was when I returned from a ride to Yellowstone and Glacier National Park in June, so it’s very dry.

Fiona sent me this picture on her way to work on Tuesday, taken at the top of her street.

That smoke is rising from exactly where Morris Dam is located. I bet some dunderhead dam worker flicked a cigarette off the dam, the wind caught that butt and blew it into the dry tinder surrounding the dam, and WHOOOMPH!!  Go get the marshmallows, it’s s’mores time! The fire, at that time covering about 30 acres, is fairly close to the house. So far, I am happy to report that the motorcycles are in no real danger.

Last night, Fiona sent me these pictures, taken in her backyard, of the smoke from the Morris Fire:

And the result of having a forest fire raging a few miles away? Ash, which looks like snow, covering everything.

The Morris Fire has been mostly contained as of Monday. According to estimates, nearly three thousand acres were incinerated in the blaze. No word on the condition of the Milk Run, I’ll just have to go up and find out firsthand tomorrow.

The 45,000 acre Station Fire, which is still raging in the nearby towns of La Canada Flintridge, Altadena and Pasadena, is much worse. 6500 firemen, tanker planes and over fifty helicopters are battling this giant fire. Sadly, as of yesterday, two fire fighters have lost their lives, and at least eighteen homes have been destroyed. That lost home total is expected to rise as the fire wears on.

My second favorite close-by mountain road, the newly re-opened Angeles Crest Highway, snakes right through the heart of this conflagration. The road has reportedly been heavily damaged by rock slides and fire. So far I’ve had no word on the fate of Newcomb’s Ranch, the best place in the Angeles National Forest to go for a hot bowl of chili and some cool  bullshitting with other riders. I can only hope for the best. When the smoke and flames clear, and the road re-opens, I will find out the tiny restaurant’s fate. A few weeks ago, Sleeping Beauty and I took a quick blast through the recently opened section of the highway, and were amazed at the great condition of the road.

The only good news in all of this is Sleeping Beauty and I will load Rain Cloud Follows tomorrow for a ride up the coast. There’s no doubt in my mind that by riding, I’ll help bring some much needed rain to this intense firefighting battle.

UPDATE:

A friend sent me this unsubstantiated rumor today from a motorcycling website:

from apriliaforum.com

I got a text message from Carlos last night at 11:30 saying that Newcombs had caught fire. I called this morning and he said that Victor was the last man standing and that he called to say he was evacuated as the flames over-took the building. He said they tried to save Chilao but lost that battle in addition to Fish Camp, Pacifico, the Cal Trans yard, and pretty much everything else on the mountain.

Carlos, for those who don’t know him, works at Newcomb’s Ranch behind the bar. He would definitely know what’s going on up there.

If it’s true, this is truly awful news about Newcombs Ranch. Feels like I’ve had a death in the family, or at least been punched in the stomach.

A few weeks ago, while heading to Jessica’s house for a ride, I noticed the eternally CLOSED to Wrightwood sign had changed. Open?? Can it be? I wasn’t sure I saw what I thought I saw, and vowed to come back and find out if in fact the beautiful road, the fantastic route through the mountains that had been closed for way too many years, had miraculously reopened.

Very recently, Fiona and I headed to Angeles Crest Highway to find out. As we always would, we stopped at Newcomb’s Ranch for a snack. Newcomb’s Ranch sat just before the road closure. It was a shock to find out inside that the road, in fact, was open! Honestly, Newcomb’s was always one of my favorite places to stop, because of the eclectic bunch of weirdos that invariably massed at this hideaway in the middle of the mountains. It was always good for a laugh.

The day we went there was a GIGANTIC bear of a man sitting at the bar, flanked by two other big dudes, all devouring their lunches. In a thick Russian accent, the bear of a man asked the bartender for more horseradish. Exasperated, the bartender replied, “OK, man, but this is it! Next time, I’m gonna charge you for more!”

The Russian bear-man bristled, drew up to his full height and, with remnants of his sandwich spilling out of his mouth said, “That is fine. I do not care. You charge me whatever you want. Do you know who I am?”

The bartender, interested for about a millisecond, turned around and said, “No. Who are you?”

“I am world heavyweight champion boxer. I fight Mohammad Ali.”

“Well, in that case, for you, extra horseradish is now $500!”

And that is how great Newcomb’s Ranch was. You never knew who you were going to run into, you never knew what might happen, but you knew it was always going to be entertaining.

As Fiona and I sat outside eating our lunch that day, a tall, lanky KTM Adventure rider, decked out in full leather adventure gear came over to us, told me that he’d seen my ADV sticker on the back of my bike, and had to come over and give me ‘the salute.’ He promptly chucked me the bird. We all had a good laugh about it.

The first time I stopped there on my own, a few years ago, I got into a deep, two hour long philosophical conversation with two other FJR riders, who turned me on to some great roads and some good ideas for improving the handling of  Rain Cloud Follows. Because of the extended bullshit session, I was late getting home, and got in trouble, but it was worth it.

And now, Newcomb’s Ranch has apparently burned down. What the fuck? All the beautiful artwork on the walls… the kitchen that churned out that fantastic chili.. the picnic tables with the blue jays in the trees just waiting for a dropped french fry… Gone? I shudder to even think about it.

Sad day – not the best day ever…. I am devastated.