Not the vacation I was expecting

On Sunday, I packed up my car, said goodbye to Tori and T, and headed up to Shasta Lake for a week of houseboating with friends. This is the third year in a row we've gone, and it's been an excellent little escape, especially during the pandemic era -- spending a week in nature with poor Internet access if any, soaking in warmth and sun, reading, swimming, hanging out with some of my favorite people. This year's trip was shaping up to be more of the same, with particularly good weather and clear air, and I had been writing up little tidbits to share in a jokey "ship's log" format.

Then we woke up on Thursday morning and saw this:

( The rest of the story, and a few more pictures. )

I've created an album with a selection of photos from the whole trip, including some cute puppy shots, which you should all be able to see here.

So now I'm home from my adventure, two days early. I want to stress that I was never really worried for my personal safety, and if there had been fire on the road out of the marina, we would not have left that way unless ordered to do so by someone in charge. Wildfire has always been a reality of life in California -- it's part of the natural ecosystem here, to the point that September and October are known as "fire season", although of course the increasing frequency and intensity of fires is absolutely being driven by climate change. In my 35 years of California residency, this is by far the closest I've ever personally gotten to a fire, and the most concerned I've ever been about avoiding the danger. I'm really glad we all got out safely, and I wish the best to anyone who's still out there.