Fire on the Mountain

On January 12th at 4:00am I received one of the strangest phone calls.  It was my mom calmly telling me, "Kari, your house is on fire."  I will never forget those words.  Luckily I was not home when the fire started, otherwise this story may have a different ending.  Thankfully, the only thing in the house that was living was a plant.  The rest was just things, but through this experience I am learning what is truly important in life.

The house before fire departments were on scene (taken by a neighbor)

I did not own the house, it was a family friend's and they were helping me out by letting me live there for the winter.  It was a small and simple cabin, but it was great for me for a season.  The house was built in the 40's and it definitely had it's quirks.  Now I realize more quirks than I initially thought.  The only explanation on how the fire started would be electrical.  The electrical probably hadn't been looked at since the 70's.  Some of the local fire fighters were pulling newspaper from the walls from the 1970's. Yes, the walls were insulated with newspaper.

Outside

Inside

After receiving the call about the fire, my man Cody and I went up to Green Valley Lake to see what the damage was.  When we got there the house was already to the ground and the fire fighters were finalizing their efforts in knocking down the flames.  We left before it was completely extinguished because it was cold and there was nothing to be done.

After some time at my parent's house we went back to my place and started digging through the ashes.  I had most of my material possessions in there, but thankfully had a few pairs of clothes and shoes in my car.  Most of my skiing gear was at work as well so I had enough to live and make a living.  While digging on the first day it was hardest to find my journals burnt and not readable and the remains of sentimental items that had been lost.  After digging for a while and grabbing things I thought I could save it was time to leave the ruins.

Digging through the day of

RIP Climbing Rack

I wanted to keep it secret for a little while because I do not do very well with attention.  I returned to work the next day and started to try to move on but wasn't sure how I was going to rebuild the things I needed and if I would be able to rebuild the gear I needed to return to Yosemite as a hiking guide.  My focus turned toward necessities.  My first purchase was a toothbrush.

As comes with living in a small town, people started to hear about the situation and was offered a lot of help.  I normally have a hard time accepting help so I was denying a lot, including a co-worker, Bob Abrams, asking to start a fundraiser for me on Go Fund Me.  I said no the first day he asked, but then I realized it was more selfish of me to deny the help rather than to accept it from the people who wanted to offer.  This began an incredible amount of love and support coming my way.  As of now, with the GoFundMe alone people have donated $11,717 to me.

I have been fortunate to live and work in many small communities and the love has been humbling.  The generosity of the people around me is so amazing.  There has been donations of clothes coming from all over the United States, from Yosemite to Virginia.  More money than I know what to do with, making it feasible to replace the gear I lost.  Friends have contacted outdoor companies and the companies are sending donations (Black Diamond, Mountain Khakis and 5.10).  I am truly speechless from all of the support that is coming my way.  I would love to send out a personal thank you to everyone involved in the recovery process, but there are just so many.  Beyond the monetary and possession support, the emotional support is incredible.  I am learning of other people who have gone through the same thing, and never knew that part of their life before.  My Yosemite family made the most heartfelt video showing their love.  I have been receiving so many letters of support as well.  Patrollers from other ski resorts, who I have never met are reaching out with support.  I am surrounded by incredible and loving people, and love is the greatest thing we can have in life.

What was I able to keep and what survived?  Ironically enough, my firewood was in fairly good condition so I offered it to a neighbor so she could have some wood for the rest of winter.  The toilet paper was just wet from the water, but did not burn.  The usable items I got from the rubble was my recipe book, a spoon (my friend Moose brought it to me from Thailand) and a pair of trauma sheers.  My parents and I went back to the house multiple times to dig, knowing we probably wouldn't find much.  My parents were able to find $30 worth of destroyed change.  One great thing to come out of the house was an amazing burn of one of the pages of a guide book of the Sierra's.  The photo is below.  This will be framed and could not have been burned better by a person.  It is amazing how this photo wasn't anything special in my life, but now it means so much.  It is a reminder of the lessons of simplicity and friendship that I have learned through this whole experience.

Guidebook Page Found

So now what?  Time to move on.  I have gotten rid of other posessions I was keeping at my parent's house, simply because I don't need them.  I have started to purchase some gear and clothes.  I have an amazing support unit, more love that I ever thought possible and a new perspective on what is important in this life.  Family, friends and the people we surround ourselves with are the building blocks of our inner beings.  Life is not about the possessions or the gear (although that stuff is fun too).  I hope I can pass on the love and support shown toward me throughout my life.  Thank you to each person who has contributed to my recovery in their own special way.

No more digging...time to move on

The view from my new home