The first whiff of the coming inferno was the snap hooks’ insistent clinking against the metal flagpole just outside our old ranch house. High air pressure — many miles north of our narrow perch along the southern skirt of the Santa Ynez range — propelled the hot offshore winds down our canyon en route to Refugio Beach, rousing our large California Republic flag from its customary droop and tensing its halyard.
By late that Monday afternoon, we could see enormous flames under a dark cumulus plume of brown smoke, surmounting the crest of the Santa Ynez south of Solvang. The fire was bearing southeast into the upper Tajiguas drainage, torching a tinderbox of chaparral on the coast side, which hadn’t burned since 1955. Embers hopscotched toward the beach, igniting dry brush erratically on their way. By 6 p.m., the highway was closed. The coast is ominously quiet when the 101 shuts down and we can again hear the persistent waves breaking on the beach from miles up-canyon, a small blessing from the emergency closure.
We knew from our experience in the 2016 Sherpa Fire that we had work to do and wouldn’t sleep for some time. Our cousin Eric came to lay out our fire hoses and connect them to the hydrants. To ensure access for the anticipated firefighters, deputies, and other officials, we propped open routinely locked gates. We located our Coleman lanterns, turned off the propane tanks, and filled the tractors, trucks, and generators with fuel.