Pines Fire Jumps Containment Line

An aggressive wildfire burning in the mountains northeast of San Diego took fire crews by surprise Tuesday, jumping a containment line near here and threatening to become one of the state’s largest blazes in a dangerous fire season.

Several forces have combined to make the so-called Pines Fire a particularly fierce and unpredictable blaze--extremely low humidity, temperatures near 90 degrees, a fuel supply untouched by wildfire for more than three decades and an abundance of trees killed long ago by a bark beetle infestation.

Fire crews are counting on the fire to head southeast through Anza Borrego State Park and over the North Pinon Mountains to the desert near Borrego Springs, at which time the fire should extinguish itself for lack of vegetation.

Firefighters had expected to have the fire under control early this week, but the difficult conditions have pushed back that prediction to Sunday. The fire was 48% contained Tuesday.

In nine days, the fire has burned 47,780 acres and taken along with it 19 homes, 25 storage sheds and barns, and 50 cars, trucks and tractors. Fire officials estimate 500 homes have escaped the flames.

The fire has gobbled up mostly dry manzanita, along with oak trees and the occasional ponderosa and pinon pine. With the aid of fickle gusts of wind Tuesday, embers skipped as far as a mile ahead of the fire, starting new hot spots.

“It basically does about anything it wants,” said Bill Peters, a spokesman for the California Department of Forestry.

With the fire’s capricious behavior, authorities attempted to keep 500 residents who live in several tiny mountain communities--Warner Springs, Ranchita and the Los Coyotes Indian Reservation--away from their homes.

But not everyone heeded the warnings.

Fire officials were getting ready to escort Roberta Haubold up to her parents’ home in this tiny town about 80 miles northeast of San Diego on Tuesday afternoon.

Her 84-year-old father has refused to leave and her 81-year-old mother can’t drive herself out, she said.

“My dad is a jerk. He won’t come out,” Haubold said as she backed out of a makeshift parking lot where residents get updates from fire officials.

Her parents have lived in the 600-square-foot wooden house since 1979. “I would just feel better if I were there,” she said.

National Forest Service spokesman Lee Bentley conceded that some residents just won’t leave, adding, “Mandatory [evacuation] does not really mean mandatory. You can’t force the issue.”

Helicopters buzzed overhead through plumes of thick, dark smoke.

Crews stationed a firetruck and at least four firefighters at each home in the area, said Nick Schuler, an engineer with the California Department of Forestry.

That strategy appeared to be working--along California 22, the lone green spots were adjacent homes saved from the flames.