Today, I rode my motorcycle west on Sunset Boulevard, heading toward the fire in Pacific Palisades. It wasn’t good. On hearing my children upset because their high school was on fire, I wanted to investigate it.
Sunset Blvd heading west was empty and the two lanes heading east were bumper to bumper for miles.
As I got closer to the fires people were stopped on the side of the road snapping pictures on their smartphones.
The wind carried cinders everywhere, and thick smoke choked the roadways, making it hard to see.
As I got closer, I could feel the heat radiating. The Santa Ana winds blowing hard in a circular motion. It’s supposed to pick up speed later tonight.
There are multiple houses on fire everywhere, street after street.
I stopped and lifted my helmet’s visor for just a second, and my eyes immediately started burning. Realizing the danger, between the searing heat and the cinders falling all around, I thought of my motorcycle’s gas tank and knew it was time to leave.
I turned away and decided to make my way down to the Pacific Coast Highway.
Streets were black with smoke and it started to permeate my helmet. I kept moving east and then south and I saw my way down a familiar street I knew went to the PCH.
Once I got there police officers guided me south on the PCH. I pulled into a beach parking lot to get some fresh air into my lungs.
Once I was feeling okay, I finished my drive home. I stopped at Whole Foods to get a steak and could smell the fire on my leathers.
As I walked toward my apartment, I caught sight of the fires from the balcony walkway facing north, Mother Nature’s haunting beauty in destruction.
But for now, I’m safe.
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Chu The Cud 