It wasn’t supposed to be this way!
The August 2013 Scientific American published a map showing Colorado with a nearly zero percent chance of devastating floods. So much for that theory. By September 11, 2013 it began raining steadily through the day. In a 24 hour period we got more than our annual rainfall of 12 inches. Doesn’t sound like much to people used to much higher numbers, but here, that’s a lot. Our house lies in small valley along the North Fork, before the confluence with the Little Thompson. The N. Fork drains only a small area so we haven’t worried about major flooding. We’ve seen a few floods over the years. Inconvenient, but not all that destructive. That was before the Jet Stream sagged down and got itself stuck over a small section of the Colorado Rockies between Boulder and Ft. Collins.
This is an arid, steep and rocky section of the eastern slope. There isn’t much topsoil covering the mostly decomposed granite substrate. When it rains, the soil is saturated quickly and then, drains out quickly. The power and phone went out in the morning. Flooding was obviously going to happen, but we’d been through floods before, so we spent the day filling sandbags and moving vehicles to high ground.
Entry bridge nearly submerged
The over-built bridge is handling the flow
Craig ties down a foot bridge as water rises.
By late afternoon, looking out the door, we could tell we were really in for it. We moved what furniture we could up a level.
Afternoon view from inside the house.
By sundown water surrounded the house on both sides and the driveway was gone. When it got dark, really dark with rainy skies and no power, and the water in the house above our knees, we decided to go to bed. What else?? During the night the bulk of the rain fell and the water rose another few feet… we could tell from the water line on the wall the next morning. (the plants in the greenhouse didn’t need water, for months)
The three foot water mark
Outside: devastation. Ponds gone, driveway gone, barn gone, many trees gone. Debris piled against trees left standing. No access to the rest of the world. We were in a state of shock. We had heard that once drywall is wet it is imperative to get it out before mold sets in. Craig wanted to save his motorcycles that were mired in several feet of mud.
What was a pond is now a river
Back yard is rearranged
Garage and Craig’s workshop were the worst
One of many impressive flotsam debris piles
Remember the large bridge that was doing so well?
The other bridge we find over a mile downstream.
We started ripping out drywall and throwing it, the soggy couch and the ruined appliances (except for the refrigerator body) in one of many huge holes courtesy of the flood.
Remodeling begins next day
Next day the National Guard came to evacuate us, but we decided to stay as we wanted to get moving on clean-up. They were persistent, but we were obstinate. They couldn’t promise when we might be able to return and the thought of hanging out at some shelter while our house rotted just didn’t seem like a good plan. We sat in our car occasionally to listen to news and get an idea of just how devastating this weather “event” had been for many.
Evacuation helicopters flew overhead for days.
MRE (meals-ready to-eat) donations from FEMA kept up our energy
We started to see some silver linings in the mess. Our new neighbors were so willing to pitch in and help, and are turning into lifelong friends. The appliances that went into the pit were due for replacement anyway, FEMA stepped up to help everyone, and the pace of recovery was phenomenal.
New neighbor Kim brings yummy food to replace MRE’s for a change of pace.
Our exit road, gone
other side of end of the road… power still out
Neighbors Daryl and John start knocking in a road for us
First responders here. Within 10 days we had power restored and 4WD access to the greater world.
New culverts improve the access immensely.
Old entrance road a mere memory with new one on right.
Craig and Tom work on foot bridge to the cabin
Craig and Tom restore the foot bridge to the cabin. The fact that the cabin is still here is a miracle. Everything under the cabin was washed away, but the upper section was untouched and the posts the cabin rests on, held.
All Hands recovery group helps restore order.
Crews of helpers arrived from all over the country to help flood victims. At this point we were well aware that our damage was paltry compared to many others. Lyons was still without power and water, Jamestown was nearly wiped off the map, and several homes downstream from us had been torn from their foundations and floated away. We lucked out and got one group of helpers for a day. That many workers make visible progress!
The group
In Lyons and the other hard hit areas, these volunteer workers like these from all over the country, made such a difference in the recovery process, in the process giving hope to those hardest hit.
I’ll attach a couple more scenes that greeted us when we finally made it out. It made us very grateful we still had something to repair.
A neighbor downstream stayed up most of the night trying to keep the water out, but needed evacuating when half the house washed away.
An example of a Lyons house that will have to be torn down.
Work continues and will for perhaps years, but spirits are good. More will follow about the progress being made.