We're safe and we're out, but wow, we hiked our way out of the #CreekFire yesterday.

We had just started an 8 day trip through Ansel Adams wilderness, with a planned restock at a friend's vehicle 4 days in, at Red's Meadow. The fire began just hours before we started hiking, skies were clear then.

As we started in on the first 5 miles smoke started growing thicker, the skies darker. It became harder and harder to breathe. By the time we reached our first overlook, the thunder began rolling from the expanding smoke cloud overhead.

We were at the edge of the pyrocumulus cloud, running ahead of its border. At that time we didn't know if it was a new or active fire, nor where it was. We watched our route along the ridgeline disappear into smoke. We pulled out our sat phones to ask around

We learned there was a new fire south of us, around Mammoth Pools, heading north and south. It was 2pm and the thunder rolled for 3 minutes at a time. We explored evac options, for if the road was blocked, but hiked swiftly back to the car to try to seize the window.

On the drive in, a bridge was out, and the detour now ran straight into the fire. As we drove, a convoy of cars raced in the opposite direction, waving us back. The green line is the only exit, the orange active fire. The red line was our path. We turned back to the trail.

We made a judgement call here: we had food, backpacks, and a car on the opposite side of the Sierras. We were exhausted from the earlier hike, the stress, the heavy smoke. We decided to hike 14 miles across the Mammoth trail to the car in Red's Meadow (an exit okayed by a ranger)

We drove my car to the Mammoth trailhead and unloaded three days of food, lots of gear. The trip would likely take a day and a night. We abandoned my vehicle there, with a message written in the soot, detailing our plan, and started hiking in, just 30 mins from sunset.

We knew the forecasted winds wouldn't blow towards us. We knew fire tends to stay high, we crossed the San Joaquin river that night and climbed up the ridge through thick smoke, blood-red skies, past Snake Meadow before setting up camp. There were 15-20mi between us and the fire.

When we woke, we learned via sat phone that the fire had grown from 1k to 36k acres (mostly to the south and west) overnight. We ate well, we packed up, we headed east towards the summit. It was exhausting on spent lungs, spent legs, watching the smoke chase us uphill for hours.

We got by on wit, grit, luck, and the support of our friends. Every group we passed was doing their best with the info they had. Many were panicked. Our positivity in that slog to safety was such a boon. Stress was managed without being denied. We laughed a lot in that struggle.

The utter relief of spilling downhill, into Devil's Postpile was indescribable. The thickest smoke followed us, along with rumors of lightning and potential fire tornadoes at our backs. The stories of others we'd met on the trail escaping, of the heli evac we might have taken.

Getting to the car felt like washing ashore after days at sea. The fire had doubled its footprint in that day alone. We called family. The adrenaline wore off and we rested hard. We caught up on the news of what happened while we were out there, and it still feels surreal.

I don't know if I'll see my car again. This was my birthday trip, and I'm just grateful to be seeing another year, to have the friends around me that I do. At 0% containment for the #creekfire, I hope others are as fortunate as we were to escape.