Views from the South Fork and Salt Fires at the Hondo Valley Allsup’s

Smoke blankets the Allsup's in Hondo Valley Tuesday evening from the Salt and South Fork fires. (Danielle Prokop / Source NM)

ALLSUP’S #2379, TINNIE, N.M. – Just 30 miles outside of Ruidoso sits the sole gas station on Highway 70 to Roswell.

This is a place of miracles, anyone will tell you.

Ash rained down Tuesday evening. The sinking sun became a flat red disc sliding through the smudge of smoke, the moon opposite, a bleary orange.

From the east another wave of people rushed out of the mountains, driven by the Salt Fire’s run toward the Ruidoso Downs. Thousands of people poured down the road the night before into the early morning, as the South Fork Fire burned the north end of Ruidoso Village and swept into Alto.

The people stopped at Allsup’s for supplies and for free gas bought by Waymaker Church in Roswell.

They milled around Dr. Munchies y Mas. The family-run food truck out of Capitan gave away more than 200 hot dogs and pallets of water bottles.

Neighbors met, pet each other’s dogs, and held each other, ephemera of their lives scattered in the backseats — wedding pictures, baby pictures — outside this remote convenience store.

Bobby Egans has lived in Ruidoso Downs, off and on for the past 18 years, doing landscaping and excavation work. He only had enough time to pack photos, important documents, and get the three girls and two dogs into his car.

“I’m hopeful,” he said, rueful smile. “I’m just praying, hoping we don’t lose it all.”

The South Fork and Salt fires continue to grow, and as of Wednesday afternoon, they remain uncontained. Winds continue to fuel the fire, and possible rain could help stop flames but might pose risks for flash floods. Egan continues to worry about the family that stayed behind.

“My father-in-law, my mother-in-law, they’re back at the house. That’s my only concern, that they be alright,” he said.

The station ran out of gasoline in the early morning hours of Tuesday, but by the evening, it was a crucial stop for the people fleeing down the mountains and the crews driving in.

Lincoln County Volunteer Firefighter Steve Sanchez, a 19-year veteran that was on scene, said this combination of fires is one of the worst he’s seen, burning hot in the forest first and moving into town.

“It’s a mess out there,” he said. He compared it to the McBride Fire in 2022, noting that fire was “wild and crazy,” but it unfolded in a way that offered more time for crews to rest.

“Not this one. We weren’t able to sleep until almost five o’clock. Then they wanted ups back out again at six — one hour sleep,” he said. “It was tough. It was hard. These guys are worn out.”

He said he hopes the storms forecast for Wednesday offer rain. “That would be a godsend,” Sanchez said.

Lincoln County Volunteer firefighter Adam McDaniel said the crew was in Alto, near the golf course.

“All those beautiful homes, and there were so many that were destroyed,” he said. “We were tasked with trying to save them, and we protected some, but the wind was just horrible Monday.”

Harold Vilas, 59, packed in the family’s eight dogs and sole cat across two cars, and left with his wife, son, daughter and her partner.

“We lost all TV stations, cell service, local radio, no internet,” Harold said, adding that Sheriff’s and others were using a bullhorn to warn people to evacuate.

They were headed to Roswell for the night — their second-ever evacuation, the other from a fire more than a decade ago.

He spent the hours before preparing the house: restacking firewood away from the buildings, raking up pine needles and soaking the ground.

“This just about ruined our day,” he said with a little laugh.

His daughter, Emily Vilas and her boyfriend, Rosendo Montes were missing for a little while, unbeknownst to them.

Chloe Desirae, a coworker and friend of Emily’s, had posted in the Reunite Ruidoso social media page on Monday. The page is dedicated to connecting loved ones who lose contact during evacuation. Desirae’s post sharing concerns that Emily’s calls hadn’t gone through garnered more than 200 shares.

Emily didn’t see the messages until pulling into Hondo, her phone lighting up, with messages and calls.

“We let her know as soon as our phones turned on, and I just had to start calling everyone I could, let them know we were safe,” she said.

Emily laughed, then felt the grief hit. She feared her employer Z’s Bud Board would shutter, that when she came back, it’d all be wiped away.

“I’ve been holding back tears for so long, I don’t think I can do it anymore,” she said.

Inside the Allsup’s, the deep fryer and several of the employees worked nearly nonstop.

Chezarae Chavez is one of those workers, pulling shift after shift since Monday, only resting for a few hours on Tuesday.

On her break, she helped a friend evacuate from Ruidoso, then checked on her father, who isn’t evacuating and is in his house near Gavilan Canyon.

He’s already had a close call, she said. In the McBride Fire, the flames jumped the canyon, spurting up the road, and burned down his barn but not the house.

She was worried when the phones went down and she didn’t hear from him.

She saw him, and then left.

“I’m sure he’ll leave when it gets close enough, but he’s one of those stubborn-ass cowboys,” she sighed, and put her hands up to her face. “You just have to let everything go, let him think he thought of it.”

Geraldine McTeigue, 60, works at the Allsup’s in the summers while her job driving school busses is on hold.

McTeigue, who’s lived in Hondo her whole life, is familiar with the ebb and flow of fire and smoke, but this one is different.

“This, this is the worst one,” she said, tears slipping down her cheeks. “People were so polite, so kind, even as they’re going through something awful.”

Nearly 1,200 Allsup’s burritos and chimichangas were sold early in the week. People began camping out, waiting for gas. Food was sent from other gas stations, shelves were emptying, but not everything.

“We always had just enough — just enough coffee, just enough food,” McTeigue said. “So many people, grateful to be alive, to have each other, I think they lifted me up more than I did for them.”

At about 8:30 p.m., another line wrapped around the store, Chavez paused restocking chimichangas and fried chicken fingers, to reach for the ringing phone.

“Allsup’s, how can I help you?” she said. “Yes, we still have gas at this time. Yes, all the pumps are working. No, no, it’s slowed down a lot.”

Another short exchange, and then she hung up, waiting for the next call.

Some of the people, who’d arrived in everything from large campers to little sedans, were staying in the parking lot overnight.

Rita Webb and her husband Dale (Seminole), a retired arson investigator for the federal government, were waiting until sheriffs would allow them to return to their home.

Dale Webb, 76, was transferred to the Apache Mescalero Tribe 40 years ago and stayed. He said he thought about staying behind and fighting the fire.

“I had the hoses all charged up ready to go,” but he changed his mind as the weather worsened and the mandatory call to evacuate came down.

Webb said his life is built in the mountains now, and he’ll return to it.

“Fire is just a part of life,” he said.

Traveling down the ribbon of Highway 70, eastbound to Roswell, the red glow of the fire backlit the mountains in the rearview mirror, then was lost to smoke.

The post Views from the South Fork and Salt Fires at the Hondo Valley Allsup’s appeared first on Source New Mexico .