Living With Wildfire Smoke

What comes to mind when you think of summer? School is out; going to the beach; fishing; catching fireflies; camping; barbecues; shorts and t-shirt weather… These are some of the thoughts that come up for me. Being someone who experiences much of life through music, there are also a few songs that always pop up for me when I think of summer. Here are the opening lyrics of a few of them:

Summertime and the livin’ is easy. Fish are jumpin’ and the cotton is high. (George Gershwin, 1934)

Roll out those lazy, hazy, crazy days of summer.
Those days of soda and pretzels and beer.
Roll out those lazy, hazy, crazy days of summer.
Dust off the sun and moon and sing a song of cheer. (released by Nat King Cole, 1963)

In the summertime when the weather is high, you can stretch right up and touch the sky.  (released by Mungo Jerry, 1970)

I love summer. It is one of my four favorite seasons. But, summer is different than it used to be. Summer has changed. It was three summers ago, on a trip to a string of western National Parks, when I first uttered the painful words, “We have ruined summer!”

After a delightful few days in the spectacular Great Basin National Park, we were headed further west, with camping reservations at Crater Lake and Lassen Volcanic National Parks. Soon after entering northern California, we began experiencing the smoke from the Dixie Fire, one of California’s largest wildfires. We soon learned that parts of Lassen were on fire, and the park was closed. So much for going to Lassen Volcanic National Park.

Smoke obscuring the Scraggy Peaks during the Oak Ridge Fire in Beulah, July 2024.

The smoke became increasingly worse – from the growing Dixie Fire, but also from several wildfires in Oregon. I recall driving through Klamath Falls, Oregon one late morning, with the streets practically empty. It was no wonder – the Air Quality Index (AQI) was above 400 (above 300 is considered hazardous). I don’t know how much protection they offered, but we both donned the masks we became accustomed to wearing during Covid – inside the van. The unrelenting smoke forced us to abort our visit to Crater Lake. We turned around and headed home to Colorado. The smoke was just too much!

Now, when I think of summer, wildfire – both near and far – and wildfire smoke, are what first come to mind. Since 2005, four wildfires directly threatened my home here in Beulah – the Mason Gulch Fire, the Junkins Fire, the Beulah Hill Fire, and the recent Oak Ridge Fire (which, according to the most recent report two weeks ago, the 1310-acre fire was 89% contained). Each of those fires were within ten miles of my home – a distance that, given the right conditions, a fire could cover in way less than an hour. We were evacuated for two of those fires, and on pre-evacuation for a third. Thankfully, the fires never made it to my place – sadly, that was not the case for others in my town.

When it comes to wildfire smoke, there have been few, if any summers over the last 20 years when wildfire smoke was not an issue. Less than a week ago, I couldn’t see the mountain ridge that sits less than five miles west from my home, thanks to several wildfires in Canada and the Pacific Northwest. Minus the smoke, I can usually see individual trees and rock formations on that ridge, called Scraggy Peaks. The AQI was around 125 – considered unhealthy for sensitive groups. A change in continental wind patterns cleared the sky a few days ago. Cleared them in Beulah, that is – not so in countless other places for millions and millions of people.

As I type these words, I pause to look out the window at Scraggy Peaks. As I expected, with three active wildfires burning a hundred or so miles north of my place – along with over 90 other large active wildfires burning in the US today, and hundreds of active wildfires in Canada – the ridge is losing its clarity again. The smoke is returning.

Oak Ridge Fire near “downtown” Beulah.

In 1989, I read The End of Nature, Bill McKibben’s alarming, and, time has proven, prophetic book about climate change. Among the book’s many warnings I read about was that summer would shift from being a time when “the livin’ is easy” to a season filled with grim periods that have to be, well, endured. Looking back on July 2024 as the month comes to an end today, I’ve endured a close call with another nearby wildfire, and I’ve endured several days of breathing unhealthy air filled with wildfire smoke.

I am also enduring highly unusual heat. When I read McKibben’s book all those years ago, temperatures almost never got into the 90s at my mountain home, at 6600’ in Colorado’s southern foothills. Eight-five was considered an extremely hot day. The outdoor thermometer reads 93F as I type these words (it is a balmy 84F in the house right now); it was in the 90s yesterday, and the day before. It was in the high 90s a couple weeks ago for several days. My two thermometers, in two different sun-free locations on my property, even read 100F on one of those afternoons.

And summer nights always cooled wonderfully – usually into the 60s, 50s, and sometimes the upper 40s, even after a hot day in the 80s. We don’t have air-conditioning – opening the windows after a hot day and the house would cool quickly once the sun was down. I was awakened a couple of nights ago at 4am due to being uncomfortably warm. I was dumbfounded when I looked at the thermometer – it read 74F! At 4am! Last night was even warmer – 78F at 3am! And I live rurally, in the mountains, surrounded by trees. As far as I am aware, such middle-of-the-night temperatures are unheard of here. It is so much worse for millions of urban residents, many without air-conditioning, dealing with the heat island effect common in cities.

McKibben’s predictions back in 1989, all based on sound science, included larger and more frequent wildfires and the accompanying smoke, and more frequent and extreme heat waves – just like so many of us are experiencing this summer, and have been for many summers.

The science he based his book on was laughed at, mocked, and, ultimately, ignored, by politicians, journalists, and so many others. And here we find ourselves!

All of this is why I say that summers are different now. It is also why I feel that, on some days, on too many days, summer has been ruined. In spite of it all, I will still keep singing my summer songs. I will still keep doing all the things I love to do in summer. But I will not deny how I feel, or pretend that what I see and feel are just an anomaly, and summers will soon get back to “normal.” The climate change can of worms is open. The future that Bill McKibben wrote about is here.

The connections between a hotter, destabilized climate and more frequent and extreme wildfires, droughts, and heat waves, along with rising seas levels, melting glaciers, and more extreme and frequent floods and storms are based on solid peer-reviewed science.

The connections between climate change and human activities, especially the burning of fossil fuels, is also clear and based on solid, peer-reviewed science. It is in recognizing and acknowledging these connections that lie the answers to, “Is there anything I can do to stop climate change?” If enough of us take the right actions, we can begin to slow the changes being made to the climate. There are many resources for those who want to make a difference, including Actions for a Healthy Planet, part of the Act Now “blueprint for a better world” developed by the United Nations.

Wildfire smoke has become a common part of the West’s summer landscape.

There is one more very important action we can take. We can vote! The results of the upcoming US election in November will have a tremendous impact on the future of the climate, as well as on so many other important issues. Please do your own research on the policy differences between the candidates – not only for president, but for numerous down-ballot races. The two visions for the future of our country by our two major parties, Democrat and Republican, could not be more different.

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PS: 6pm, I just learned that there is yet another wildfire now burning in Colorado’s Front Range, this newest one near Boulder. Thousands have been evacuated. Four active and threatening fires have started in the last three days.