Otay Mountain’s Wildfire: A Story of Destruction, Renewal, and Conservation

ecorangers831
Jan 31
5 min read

Updated: Feb 1

Walking Through the Aftermath

The air was thick with the lingering scent of charred earth, a smell that clung to my clothes long after I left. Otay Mountain, a place I had explored many times before, looked almost unrecognizable. The rolling hills that once held dense chaparral and patches of coastal sage scrub were now blackened and bare, stripped down to their skeletal remains. The Border 2 Fire, which burned through over 6,600 acres of rugged terrain, had left its mark.

But amid the devastation, there was also a different story—a story of resilience.

Nature, despite its moments of violent destruction, has a way of rebuilding itself. Tiny green shoots were already pushing through the ash-covered soil, a testament to the role that fire plays in this ecosystem. The chaparral, though scorched, was simply waiting for its cue to regenerate. Even the airfields where Skydive San Diego is located, which had been directly in the fire’s path, stood unscathed thanks to the tireless work of CAL FIRE’s firefighters.

These men and women worked relentlessly to contain the fire, protect homes, and ensure that flames did not spread further than they already had. Watching their work unfold, I was reminded of how often we take them for granted. Fire season in California isn’t a rare occurrence—it’s expected. And yet, each time a blaze ignites, CAL FIRE answers the call, risking their lives to defend both land and livelihoods.

Without them, this fire could have been far worse. The airfields, homes, and even the surrounding communities could have been lost. Instead, they fought back the flames, preserving more than just structures—they preserved the people, businesses, and memories tied to these places.

The History of Wildfires in Southern California

Wildfires in California are not new. Long before the state became heavily populated, wildfires were a natural occurrence that shaped the landscape. Indigenous peoples, including the Kumeyaay, who have lived in the Otay region for thousands of years, understood fire’s role in maintaining ecological balance. According to research from the California Native Plant Society (CNPS), tribes practiced controlled burns to clear underbrush, encourage new plant growth, and support healthy wildlife populations (CNPS, 2021).

However, with the rise of urban development, fire suppression policies dominated. For most of the 20th century, the U.S. Forest Service and other agencies aggressively fought wildfires, believing that all fire was harmful. This approach, while well-intentioned, led to a dangerous accumulation of dry vegetation, making today’s wildfires far more intense and destructive (Stephens et al., 2020).

The Dual Nature of Wildfires

In Southern California, fire isn’t just a catastrophe—it’s part of the landscape. Chaparral, the dominant plant community in these mountains, evolved with fire. It relies on periodic burns to clear out dead growth, open up space for new plants, and trigger seeds that only germinate after being exposed to heat or smoke.

Without fire, the ecosystem becomes imbalanced. Vegetation overgrows, piling up like kindling, waiting for an ignition source. Ironically, the absence of smaller, controlled burns makes future wildfires even more destructive when they inevitably happen.

But that doesn’t make the damage any easier to witness.

Walking through the remnants of the fire, I could see where the flames had licked at the ground, reducing entire hillsides to nothing but charred twigs and exposed rock. Birds circled above, displaced from their usual nesting spots. Animal tracks wove through the soot-covered dirt—signs of life pressing forward despite the destruction.

The Human Footprint on the Mountain

Otay Mountain is more than just a natural landscape; it is also a well-known corridor for migrants crossing from Mexico into the U.S. Over the years, I’ve noticed an increasing presence of discarded backpacks, clothes, plastic bottles, and makeshift campsites, left behind as people navigate the rugged terrain. These remnants of human passage tell a different kind of story—one of movement, survival, and risk.

The presence of Border Patrol agents in the area was also noticeable. As much as they focus on border security, their work often overlaps with search-and-rescue missions, fire prevention efforts, and ensuring safety in an unpredictable landscape. According to a 2023 report from the U.S. Government Accountability Office (GAO), nearly one-third of wildfires in the U.S. Southwest occur in areas with active migration routes, further complicating fire management efforts (GAO, 2023).

As I hiked through the fire’s aftermath, the contrast between nature’s destruction and human activity was impossible to ignore. Scattered among the burned vegetation were melted water bottles, singed fabric from abandoned clothing, and remnants of gear left behind in the rush to move north. Some of this debris may have fueled the fire, adding another layer to the complex relationship between migration and wildfire risk in this region.

How Wildlife Recovers After Fire

Fire is devastating for wildlife, but nature has a way of rebounding. In the weeks following the fire, wildlife experts from San Diego State University’s Fire Ecology Lab noted that many species use recently burned areas as new hunting grounds, taking advantage of the open landscape (SDSU Fire Ecology, 2024).

Hawks and owls swoop down to hunt rodents in the exposed fields.
Coyotes and bobcats quickly return, adapting their hunting patterns.
Deer and smaller mammals migrate to nearby areas until food sources recover.

However, the biggest concern is habitat loss. For endangered species like the Quino checkerspot butterfly, which relies on specific host plants that grow in Otay Mountain, large-scale fires can cause significant population declines (U.S. Fish & Wildlife Service, 2024).

The Soil, the Seeds, and the Waiting Game

As devastating as the fire was, Otay Mountain won’t remain barren forever. The soil, though blackened, is now rich with nutrients released by the fire. Some seeds—like fire poppies and whispering bells—only bloom in the wake of a blaze, their delicate petals emerging from the ashes like nature’s own tribute to resilience.

This is how California’s chaparral survives. Manzanita, ceanothus, and scrub oak will begin their slow but steady return. Insects and pollinators, drawn to the newly sprouting plants, will bring birds and small mammals back to the area.

Final Thoughts: A Landscape in Transition

Fire changes the landscape, but it doesn’t end it. Otay Mountain will recover—just as it has after every fire before this one. The chaparral will return, the animals will adapt, and in time, the scars will fade into new growth.

Yet, this fire also serves as a reminder of how deeply interconnected everything is. The presence of human activity in the burn zone, the impact of migration on wildfire risk, the ongoing work of Border Patrol, and the unyielding efforts of CAL FIRE in protecting communities—it’s all part of a larger story.

As we look ahead, let’s remember to express gratitude. Gratitude for the firefighters who saved Skydive San Diego and surrounding homes. Gratitude for the natural resilience of this land. And gratitude for the chance to walk through it, witness its transformation, and be part of its recovery.

Citations

California Native Plant Society. (2021). Fire and Indigenous Land Management in California.
Stephens, S. et al. (2020). The Impact of Fire Suppression on Western U.S. Forests. Ecological Research Journal.
U.S. Government Accountability Office. (2023). Fire Management and Border Security: Challenges in Overlapping Jurisdictions.
U.S. Fish & Wildlife Service. (2024). Post-Fire Recovery of Endangered Species in California.
San Diego State University Fire Ecology Lab. (2024). Wildlife Response to Southern California Wildfires.