Same week, same county, different response: Inside the Elk and Lee fires

By Jen Schumann | Rocky Mountain Voice

Flames boiled the pond on Mike Clark’s ranch, scorched irrigated fields and melted fiberglass fence posts in minutes. On August 6, the Lee Fire came so fast friends were calling with warnings as his family scrambled to clear trees and pump water toward the house. 

Just miles away on the Elk Fire side, air tankers and ground crews had been dropping water since early morning.

Mike Clark is no stranger to high stakes. A fourth-generation Coloradan and CEO of Petrox Resources, he built his life and business in the same place he raised his children. For decades, Clark has run Petrox while also working the family’s ranch, a property he moved to more than 30 years ago for its open spaces, agricultural roots and the chance to raise his kids in a rural community.

He’s watched the land through seasons of drought and wind, carving firebreaks, clearing fuels and, as his son Ryan says, teaching by example what it means to work the land you depend on. 

That combination of family history, business experience and land stewardship made August’s wildfire not just a threat to his home, but to a lifetime of work meant, protecting a place where his family could make memories.

Two fires, one week

Smoke plume from the Lee Fire on August 4 at 3:10 p.m., viewed from near the Clark property. (Photo courtesy of Clark family)

Both the Elk and Lee fires were ignited by lightning on August 2 near Meeker. Locals say the Elk Fire drew quick air support, while the Lee Fire seemed to lag as it pushed toward Highway 13.

Flames cresting a ridge on the Lee Fire, August 4 at 8:10 p.m. (Photo courtesy of Clark family)

Lee Fire after dark on August 4 at 9:31 p.m., with flames visible across the ridge. (Photo courtesy of Clark family)

The Lee Fire started west of Highway 13 in Rio Blanco County and, pushed by wind, ran until it topped 137,485 acres. As of August 19, state emergency officials reported the Lee Fire 61% contained. Its footprint puts it just shy of becoming the state’s fourth largest wildfire.

On August 4, the state’s daily briefing flagged Red Flag conditions — highs in the 90s to low 100s, humidity in single digits and gusts forecast at 30 to 40 miles per hour. The Rocky Mountain Preparedness Level was at 3, meaning aircraft and crews were available, with the national level the same and many resources standing by.

That afternoon, the Elk Fire reached 3,000 acres and the Lee Fire 2,487 acres, both at zero containment. By August 5, under another Red Flag Warning with gusts up to 35 mph and humidity in the single digits, the Elk Fire had grown to 13,025 acres and the Lee Fire to 7,750 acres. Just 24 hours later, the Lee Fire tripled in size. 

Helicopter approaching Evie Pond for a water pickup during Lee Fire suppression efforts, August 5 at 8:02 p.m. (Video courtesy of Clark family)

Helicopter water pickup from Evie Pond on August 5 at 8:02 p.m., during Lee Fire suppression efforts. (Video courtesy of Shelli Shideler/Facebook)

Elk vs. Lee Fires: Acres Burned (Aug. 4–18, 2025) – The Elk Fire plateaued near 14,500 acres after early fluctuations, while the Lee Fire surged from 7,750 acres on Aug. 5 to nearly 137,500 acres by Aug. 18. Data from Colorado Division of Fire Prevention and Control daily status reports., Aug. 4–18, 2025.

On August 6, the Lee Fire was near 22,497 acres while the Elk Fire was reported as 8,304 acres. By August 7, Lee surged to roughly 45,000. Both remained at zero percent containment until August 9, when the Elk Fire was reported as 8% contained.

By late on August 6 the Lee Fire had already crossed Highway 13 once, west of the Clark place near County Commissioner Doug Overton’s home. Air crews pulled water from Evie Pond to save the Overton house. The next day it crossed Highway 13 again — this time on the Clark ranch — turning attention south toward Meeker.

What locals saw on the line

To the men and women on the ground, the approaches looked different. Mike Wille, a Meeker native who owns a local construction company he built from the ground up more than two decades ago, said the Elk Fire got a fast, decisive push.

His business works on projects across the region with his four grown children, built on decades in the oil field, mining and heavy equipment. 

He’s been working wildfire lines since 2002, when he rolled a D7 dozer to the South Fork Fire and learned how quickly bureaucracy can stall an early attack. 

On the Lee Fire, he said the early days felt very different. “There wasn’t a dozer on the ground.” He’s seen it before — crews and equipment ready at dawn, waiting hours for direction. “Back in 2002, we could’ve had it wrapped up in a day if we’d just gone,” he said.

Locals say the first jump should have triggered immediate line work on 13. Wille said crews and equipment were ready at dawn, yet idle: “You can attack that fire in the morning and you can put ’em out… We didn’t fire our dozers up… we sat there all day.” He added that mitigation on Highway 13 could have been cut by local operators but “wasn’t used” until after the second jump. 

Mike Clark said he kept warning that Highway 13 would be crossed again and pressed for graders on the east side, but locals weren’t called until after the second jump.

Westlands sits about 15 miles upriver from the Clarks. Michael Bloomberg bought the 4,600-acre estate in 2020 for nearly $45 million. With a main lodge and guest cabins, it’s among the valley’s largest private holdings.

Locals noted that the Elk Fire, which burned near Westlands and other high-value properties, drew immediate air support while the Lee Fire ran unchecked toward working ranches.

“They poured aerial resources… local BLM, local fire, they knocked the snot out of this upper river fire,” Wille said, contrasting it with the slower response on the Lee Fire side.

What it cost

The Elk Fire’s estimated suppression cost-to-date is $10.3 million and the Lee Fire’s suppression cost has surpassed $20 million, according to federal incident reports. In those reports, “$$ CTD” is the running total of firefighting and response expenses—not insured losses or long-term recovery.

‘Doing nothing is not management’: The case for February burns

The Clarks say they pushed for winter burns and vegetation clearing when conditions were safest, but agencies turned them down. What was left, they argue, was heavy fuel that fed the Lee Fire.

“We spent money trying to manage our ranch via controlled burns, asked for additional people to help and we were repeatedly denied the permits. This is the consequence,” Cody Clark shared.

His father pointed to decades of the same experience. “Every time lightning started a fire, I begged them to let certain ridges burn… they said no, and they put it out. That creates a mega fuel source.”

Ryan Clark recalled one attempt that never got off the ground. “We had areas catted ready to burn, but when we asked the BLM to join us in February when the snow was still on the ground, they said no.”

For Wille, the refusal was also about money. “Mike Clark was asking BLM to do controlled fires back in February when the land is wet, low risk… and it protects things later for these big whopper fires like this one. If you do a back burn then, how many teams do you think you’re going to have there? The money isn’t the same.”

“The fuel stayed,” Cody Clark said. “Year after year, it built up until the August winds came. Doing nothing is also doing something. Our current approach to wildfire management is not working.”

At the Clark ranch: Heat, loss, resolve

The Clark family had spent years preparing for a fire they hoped would never come. Their house was surrounded by irrigated fields. Vegetation had been cleared. A back burn line was in place from a BLM training exercise three years earlier.

Still, Cody Clark said the fire’s speed was overwhelming. “Within a matter of eight minutes… 20-foot flames… burned every single piece of vegetation we had.”

Compilation of scenes from August 6, as the Lee Fire advanced toward the Clark home in Rio Blanco County, Colorado. Footage includes views from Cody Clark’s equipment cab and dozer line, firefighters working along the property, flames beside outbuildings and along the driveway, and crews positioned on the fireline during the most critical hours between 4:30 and 5:04 p.m. (Videos courtesy of Clark family)

Ryan Clark said the heat was like nothing he’d seen before. “We had a water well that melted… fiberglass posts melted to the ground… temperature above 2000 degrees.”

“The Lee Fire crossed Highway 13 twice,” Mike Clark said. “The first time was west of our place near Doug Overton’s home. The second was right on our ranch. If we hadn’t pressed the issue that night, our structures would’ve been gone. And if it went through us, it was headed for Meeker.” 

Mike Clark said he had spent $30,000 to cut and maintain a burn line on the east side of the ranch — a line he says ultimately checked the fire’s push when resources were still en route.

Flames approaching within yards of the Clark home on August 6 at approximately 5:00 p.m. (Photo courtesy of Clark family)

Federal reporting shows both fires received significant resources. But priorities in the first hours shaped outcomes—and costs—that locals will be living with for years.

Meeker on the fireline

Fire glow visible over ridges near Meeker as night falls. (Photo courtesy of Mindy Williams)

For the Clarks, the fire is remembered in faces, not policies — fire fighters and neighbors hauling water, crews cutting lines, people working until dark. They’re thankful for that grit. 

What lingers is the sense that while locals stand ready to handle burns and mitigation, they need state and federal partners willing to support those efforts before the flames start.

Cody Clark called firefighters “the real heroes” and said their ability to stay “strategic” and “very thoughtful in their approach” saved most of the structures. He added that conditions gave him a new respect for the crews: “You can’t see — it’s worse than any blizzard you’ve ever seen. Your line of sight is less than 30 feet. Combine that with smoke inhalation and heat… that gave me a ton of respect for the guys that are doing this day in, day out.”

Hillside silhouetted against flames with power lines in the foreground. (Photo courtesy of Mindy Williams)

Mike Clark remembered slurry bomber pilots “barely clearing our cottonwood trees” to drop retardant. “They took the risk for us,” he said. Mindy Williams, his daughter, added that the planes disappeared into the black and emerged on the other side. “I give those pilots some serious credit… very risky and dangerous, and they did a really good job.”

Williams also noted that Mitch Jacobs, who led the local BLM crew, “hadn’t slept in 30 hours when he did our place… they’re incredible.”

Crews from Wyoming, South Dakota, Nebraska, Kansas, Oregon and Colorado rotated through the area, including the Wyoming Hotshots and the Air Force Hotshots from Colorado Springs. 

The town of Meeker matched that intensity with its own response — volunteers delivered meals, kept engines and equipment running, and showed up to cut firelines. Wille was part of a crew that, in high winds, cut a ten-mile fire break from Clark’s place south in just a few hours — a move ordered by the local fire chief.

“Small town environment… people showed up at our place… so many phone calls asking what we needed,” Williams said.

Retardant visible on the Clark home following aerial drops, likely August 7. (Photo courtesy of Mindy Williams Clark)

The bigger questions

Resource allocation decisions are made by incident command, often influenced by geography, access and values-at-risk assessments. Geography and terrain likely played a role in where crews could safely operate first.

But across Rio Blanco County, locals still ask whether property value or profile also shaped those choices. Wille believes the system itself rewards longer, more expensive fights. For him, the disparity was about more than protecting homes with higher price tags. It was about what kind of land and livelihoods were seen as expendable. 

“Once the fire is handed to the feds, it’s out of county control.” Wille added, “You can attack a fire in the morning and put it out, but we sat there all day while it ran.”

Containment of the Elk and Lee Fires, Aug. 4–18, 2025 – The Elk Fire progressed rapidly from 8% containment on Aug. 9 to full containment (100%) by Aug. 18, while the Lee Fire lagged behind, reaching 61% containment by the same date. Data from Colorado Division of Fire Prevention and Control daily status reports.

Why mitigation matters

Winter and spring burns, long urged by landowners, are one of the lowest-cost ways to reduce fuel. Without them, fast wind-driven starts can run through grass and brush before ground crews arrive. The result is a far more expensive firefight, both in acres burned and dollars spent.

The experience highlights what happens when mitigation efforts aren’t supported and the initial attack feels uneven—neighbors step in, but the price tag and loss grows.

Those Highway 13 crossings became the proof point for locals arguing the response came late — first near the Overton place, then again on the Clark ranch. Line crews and local leadership held there. “If it wasn’t for those two small agencies, Mike would’ve lost his place,” Wille said. “I’m 99% sure it would’ve jumped the White River and pushed into Meeker.”

When two fires light up the same map just a few miles apart, the debate isn’t only about why one fire seemed to get quicker air support. It’s also about whether Colorado will change how it manages fuels, supports winter burns and explains to the public how fire costs balloon when prevention lags.

As recovery begins, that determination remains. It’s the same determination that fueled the firefight, and now it’s the force behind rebuilding — one post, one fence, one pasture at a time. For ranching families, it also means reseeding fields, replacing melted water lines and counting livestock lost in the smoke. 

The questions over priorities may linger, but the work of putting land and livelihood back together has already begun.

Locals say transparency matters. Knowing that the Elk Fire cost over $10 million and the Lee Fire more than $20 million (and counting) helps frame the stakes—not just for ranchers who lost corrals, but for every taxpayer footing the bill.