‘It Only Takes a Little Bit of Wind’

In the rugged canyons, Shelly Lugo says, everybody knows “it only takes a little bit of wind to get those sparks going” into a destructive blaze.

Which is why residents of Trabuco Canyon have rarely questioned strict county fire prevention rules, said Lugo, who crammed goats, dogs, children and family photo album into her car Wednesday night as a wind-whipped blaze was sweeping through the rural community in eastern Orange County.

“It was weird. It was scary,” she said. “It was moving so fast, we didn’t know what to do.”

As it turns out, the fire missed Lugo’s house, but it came dangerously close to her parents’ home in another part of the canyon. But just before fear and anxiety turned to tragedy, she said, the wind shifted direction and diverted the flames.

But even if it hadn’t, chances are their fire prevention precautions may have saved their home, Lugo said. She said family members, who own Emory’s Country Store and have lived in the canyon for 12 years, regularly clear the brush around their homes for 100 feet, as a county ordinance requires.

“It gives us a buffer,” Orange County Fire Capt. Hank Raymond said of the brush-clearance requirement. “It creates an island for the home to sit in.”

Fortunately though, Raymond said, firefighters had another helping hand with this fire--the recent rains. “The brush isn’t as dry as it has been,” he said.

But Wednesday’s harrowing experience served as a lesson to some homeowners who in the past have grumbled about the nasty job of clearing the hilly land of brush.

“If they hadn’t come around and bugged me, there is no way I would have cleared my property,” canyon resident Ty Simpson said. “It’s a good thing they did.”

Fire officials inspect properties in the rural areas several times a year, and if a property owner has not complied, a notice is sent. If the owner does not take care of the job within a few weeks after that, a county-contracted crew moves in to clear the offending brush.

But that service comes at a steep price. Not only do those property owners have to pay for the work--which is charged by the square foot--they also are assessed a $92 fine per parcel each time. Those fees are tacked onto the property owner’s tax bill.

But in the canyons, most residents know that to be a scofflaw of fire prevention rules is more than just foolhardy.

“They have read or heard about other fires and seen where houses were lost when there was lots of brush around them,” Raymond said. “Ninety-five percent of the time, the owner is happy to comply.”

The county ordinance is particularly vital in Trabuco Canyon, Raymond said.

“Along with two other canyons out there, it’s one of the most hazardous areas. . . ,” he said. “It’s right at the edge of where the wild lands meet the home lands.”

The weed abatement program is not new; it is entering its 43rd year, Raymond said. But the county recently began a more “aggressive” education and enforcement effort.

Residents must clear the brush around propane tanks, which most canyon residents use as their heating fuel, as well as other brush, especially during the fall months.

“Most of these homes are built into the canyons because the owners want them to look quaint,” Raymond said. “The leaves and brush accumulate in these nooks and crannies.”

Fire officials are also trying to persuade residents and business owners to install sprinkler systems and spark arresters on their chimneys.

But many Trabuco Canyon veterans said they don’t need to be reminded of the fire danger.

“You have the area around your house clear before the fire starts,” resident Gil Leach said. “I built my house for fires--the only way to make it is to be prepared.”

Leach’s house is built of stucco, with a tile roof and no eaves--features intended to thwart a fire.

In between conducting brisk business at the store Thursday, when residents had returned after a harrowing close call, Lugo said canyon residents take precautions routinely.

“All of us in the canyon know never to have a fire in the fireplace when it’s windy. You just never know,” she said.

“You never know who’s going to throw a cigarette out their window. People don’t think about that when they come out here from the city. In the canyons, we know that one cigarette butt could burn everything up.”