|I love fire||mr_spin|
Sep 25, 2002 12:03 PM
|Right now there's a huge fire burning outside Morgan Hill (home of Specialized!) in the Uvas area. To anyone who rides in the South Bay (San Francisco), the roads in the Uvas area are extremely popular places to ride. Very scenic rolling hills, with little traffic and almost no stop signs! No riding is affected, since the fire is burning up in the hills above.
Anyway, fire is cool. I must admit, I love big brush fires. I love the smell of brush fires. I love 40-foot walls of flame. I love the little vortexes of flame that look and move like tornados. I love helicopters making precision water drops. I love all the trucks and equipment and flashing lights and squawking radios.
I am not, however, a pyromaniac. I do not set fires.
I grew up out in the northwest San Fernando Valley of Los Angeles. It was basically at the edge of the valley, at the base of the foothills, and we had a lot of big fires come through. That's where I got hooked. The smell. The action. Getting wet from helicopters flying overhead leaking water.
Having been through a few big ones, my parents were pretty smart and totally prepared. We had a shake roof (as did everyone), but my dad installed sprinklers on the roof. We turned them on and went about our business inside, while everyone else stood on their rooves in a pathetic attempt to soak them with hoses. After the big fire in 1983 took out a few homes and destroyed some rooves, everyone replaced their rooves with tile. No more sprinklers! And no more hoses.
Inside, most of our unreplaceable things like pictures and home movies were in a single drawer in a dresser. There was no searching or digging through stuff. Other stuff was in a fire safe. We were instructed to evacuate a couple of times (we never did), and it only took a few minutes to load up the car. There was never any panic at my house.
I miss it. As terrible as fire can be, I loved it. All I wanted to be when I was growing up was a helicopter pilot for the fire department. A lot of those guys, at least in the 70s and 80s, were former combat pilots in Vietnam, and they had great skills and no fear. It was awesome to watch.
What I don't miss is the aftermath. You know that doused campfire smell? The neighborhood smells like that for weeks.
Sep 25, 2002 12:50 PM
|It's hard to beat a good fire, but you gotta admit a big flood, earthquake, hurricane, volcano, or even a big traffic pile-up are right up there.
If not for some minor disclaimers in your post you'd come off as a real sicko, you know.
We'll be watching you.
|I guess I can take comfort in knowing...||The Walrus|
Sep 25, 2002 6:45 PM
|...that at least you've moved out of my 'hood. I shudder to think what you'd be feeling if you could see what's happening in the San Gabriel Mtns. right now...|| |