Yesterday we headed down to Weaverville on an errands run. Where we lived was bad enough, but as we got closer to the city–and the Iron Complex fires–we realized that Weaverville was really thick with smoke. I fished my camera out and started to snap photographs from the back of the bike.

The high street seemed to cower under a bizarre reddened sky. The sun couldn’t even break the whole way through.

Outside the post office, a notice board had been set up with flyers and maps–information to help people know what to do. A state of emergency has been called for the area, but the fire-fighters are stretched thin with conditions very difficult.

Various people were pondering the information with solemn looks on their faces.

We followed a CalTrans utility truck back down the hill for a while. It had a bulldozer scoop on the front…I think these are used to create fire breaks or dig up vegetation.

You could cut the air with a knife, and I mean that only slightly figuratively.

The sun was something else–a red glob that looked like it belonged in Mordor. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like this before–it was not a cheering sun, but more a symbol of forboding.

You see those little specks of white? Those are ashes on my motorcycle seat. The “snow” was falling steadily as we left the supermarket.

This is an absolutely horrible color.

Leaving town, you could hardly see the mountains in the distance.

There’s that weird sun again, looming over the smoke-swathed mountains.

:: shudder ::

I’ve posted some other photos over at Raven’s Rides.

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