On that Saturday, August 22, 2026, I was getting ready to go to a going away party for my nephew. Out the back window was a big fluffy cumulous cloud and my thought was, “Oh good, we might get some rain!” It has been a very dry year. Upon opening the backdoor it was clear that the cloud was actually a big plume of smoke. It was surrounded by heavier orange smoke. It was hard to tell where it was coming from exactly since there are some hills between my home and where the fire was, on Peavine Mountain.
Peavine Mountain has been a guardian, a sentinel, a beacon to guide me home. I don’t have any childhood memories without it in the background somewhere. It’s just there, like a bigger part of the backyard or the school playground. It’s the scenery of Reno. No one can get really lost in Reno because there’s Peavine and it’s only in one direction.
When we were kids, our Pop and Uncle Jesse often took us girls (seven all together) on expeditions out in the Northern Nevada desert. I imagine Pop and Uncle Jesse were scouting places to hunt doves or deer in the fall. We kids loved to go explore and look for pretty rocks, bugs, lizards, old household items people had left behind and flowers. The desert has an extraordinary variety of wild flowers, from tall foxtail lilies to tiny monkey flowers, there are more than can be listed here.
Some things Pop always had in the trunk of the car were an axe and shovel. He said it was because it’s possible to start of fire if the .22’s (or any other gun’s) bullets ricocheted off of rocks or even sometimes the car could cause sparks and start a fire. You have to be safe out in the dry desert, and be able to put out a fire fast. I also have to add that five gallons of water in addition to the shovel and axe, are also supposed to be in the vehicle anytime you’re traveling off the paved roads, and the vehicle must remain on the dirt roads and not drive off into the sagebrush. I was also told that there could be a citation involved if a ranger catches you without these safety items or driving off of the roads.
It was really fun when Pop let us shoot the BB gun at targets. He made sure we were operating it safely. After a long day out we got to stop and get a popsicle for the ride home.
In 1963 my Mom did a pastel of downtown Reno, the Truckee River and W. 2nd St. looking west, in the background is Peavine Mountain.
I used to ask Pop if I could invite my cousins to go hiking on Peavine during the summer vacations while he was at work. He always said the same thing, “You’ll fall down a mineshaft!” with the same gleeful gusto as the grown-ups on A Christmas Story who told Ralphie, “You’ll shoot your eye out, kid!” He said he’d take me sometime, but that was about it.
After I grew up I was able to take my dogs hiking up Keystone Trailhead, on Peavine, often. My Bronco loved snow and if we didn’t bring a sled, he climbed up and rolled on his back and wiggled until he could slide down, he loved it so much. And he and Mimi ran and smelled the inches of the ground until it was time to go home.
When Pop was eighty years old we took him on an adventure to find Poville, an abandoned mining town on top of Peavine. We didn’t find it, but we had fun scouting and looking for it.
South face of Peavine Mountain from Hunter Creek Trail in 2021.
View of Peavine foothills from the Reno Hot Air Balloon Races, in the early morning light, in 2024.
“N” Hill in the morning light. The “N” is for the University of Nevada, Reno.
The Northern Paiutes called the foothills “fat lumps,” because the hills reminded them of the lumps of fat in game animals. And Peavine itself was Akigaibi, which means “Sunflower Mountain.”
“R” hill (for Reno) to the right as the fire rages across the top of Peavine Mountain. This view is from my niece’s apartment building on W. 4th St. It looks surreal and nightmarish to see this giant of my childhood up in flames.
The eastern face of Peavine from Golden Valley after the fire.
Near the area where the fire started, at Hawk Meadow trail, near Verdi, NV. The red is the fire retardant dropped by the wonderful fire fighters who came with helicopters and Super Scoopers,VLAT’s (Very Large Air Tankers) and C-130 Hercules/MAFF’s for heavy duty retardant drops.
This feeling can only be compared to grief. It’s something you learn to live with, because it doesn’t go away and can come back full force at anytime. Seeing Peavine Mountain so badly scorched and blackened is as bad as seeing a loved one after a brutal, horrible accident.
The fire didn’t come toward my area, fortunately, but it went down the eastern side of Peavine Mountain and burned houses on Seneca Drive and Blackfoot Way, and then down Highway 395 corridor and crossed the highway near Stead and burned the (you can think any expletive here. There isn’t one that’s strong enough anyway) out of the North Valleys, especially from the west side of 395 to Stead and Red Rock. The inferno literally ate homes on Peppermint Drive and Oceola Court, it was white-hot and out of control, fueled by all of the dead cheatgrass and other dry materials. The fire met the heavy equipment and bulldozers just before Cold Springs where the firefighters had built up the ground to keep the fire from spilling into Cold Springs residential areas. The fire raged for 9.8 miles, as the crow flies, or 20.1 miles to drive.
Forty-seven families lost their homes and fourteen more have fire damage. One business was destroyed. 60,000 customers were without power. NV Energy was quick to restore power as early as possible, though they continue to work on all of the damaged power equipment. These numbers are statistics that don’t really mean much to those who were not affected. I can imagine how horrible it is to have everything, everything you own, evaporated into a pile of ashes, and I am crying with those families.
And I’m heartbroken for all of the innocent animals, rabbits, pikas, squirrels, snakes, lizards and more, who slept in their burrows, and never get to see the light of day again. For all of the birds who had to flee their nests and leave their young and the toll the smoke took on them. For the deer, antelope, horses, bobcats and other large animals who lost their homes and feeding grounds and maybe their lives and young.
And the sagebrush, most people think they’re looking at sagebrush when they’re really seeing rabbitbrush. Real sagebrush is a major part of the ecology of our Great Basin. Rabbitbrush is a native plant, and it moves in where the sagebrush has been cleared away. It is invasive and produces plenty of pollen for fall allergy season. Another invasive that moves into areas cleared of real sagebrush is cheatgrass. It is not native and was introduced independently, several times, as a contaminant in imported straw and agricultural seeds. Also once as a college experiment in Pullman Washington.
Cheatgrass grows especially well in the Sagebrush Steppe of our Great Basin. It grows rapidly and produces dry matter at a very high rate, especially after sagebrush has been removed. It is winter hardy and starts its growing cycle in the winter months. Animals do not generally eat it. Dry cheatgrass is highly flammable. Cheatgrass fires tend to burn fast and cover large areas. All it took was one careless human to start a raging fire that burned for nineteen days and 15,085 acres of land that has been supporting all kinds of wildlife, and us.
I saw something on September 3, 2026 that made me so happy, hopeful and thankful. Driving to Verdi on Hwy 80 West and looking to the north at Peavine Mountain, there were rings of red fire retardant around all of the stands of Jeffrey pine trees! The wonderful fire fighter had saved them! We can’t make the dead plants grow again, but maybe this spring the beginnings of new life will emerge, maybe. Here’s to hope!
I am so thankful for all of the firefighters, the pilots and boots on the ground who held the lines, NV Energy for cutting power to keep us as safe as they could. All of the emergency workers and police who kept people safe. All of the people who supplied food and water to the firefighters and evacuees and shelter for those who had nowhere to go. Bless them all. And bless the people who lost everything and a lot, their time, their jobs and their peace of mind. And bless all the innocent animals and wildlife that didn’t stand a chance.
