After Kathy Panzica and her husband fired up their motorhome Saturday night, they were dumbfounded to find vacant cars parked at the end of their driveway, and random spectators with their cameras at the ready, hoping for a shot of the fire that raged in the hills to the north of Day Road.

"They had their elbows on top of their cars and were just getting a big thrill out of this disaster," Panzica said. "It's disgusting. I'm amazed at how many people were gawking."

Already frustrated that her motorhome wouldn't start up right away and tired from hauling boxes of photos, one-of-a kind antiques and family heirlooms from her home, she was incensed to find out she was blocked in and firefighters were blocked out by people "who didn't belong."

"It was Murphy's Law that night," she said. "It was incredibly scary. Don't come block my driveway. If the firefighters are busy dealing with people, they don't have time to deal with the fire."

While passersby looking for a good view of the Hummingbird Fire were the night's menace, Panzica said the firefighters who saved her home couldn't have done their job any better.

"The firefighters were fabulous," she said. "They were doing everything they could to make a fire break."

Only 200 yards away, the charred land behind Panzica's home extended up and over the hill, leaving black where there used to be green and gold. Sad to see the vista surrounding her property blackened by fire, she's grateful to have a home to return to.

Like Panzica, Maria Bruhns, the tasting room manager at Kirigin Cellars, was appalled by the amount of people clogging the roads for no reason other than to gawk and keeping residents from evacuating safely.

"Use your head and get out of our way," she said. "It was really tacky."

While some residents grabbed their most precious belongings and fled, other held their ground. Jessica Schloetzer and Seth Yepma were reunited with their children Monday morning after being separated all weekend. Schloetzer cradled her 2-year-old son Caden in her arms as he planted kisses on her face. Yepma's father had looked after the children over the weekend and 7-year-old Jayde carried several pieces of her grandfather's birthday cake for her parents, who missed the party.

Evacuated from Oak Dell RV Park, the couple moved their trailer and several vehicles out of the park to the open space near Watsonville Road and watched as the flames licked dry brush less than a hundred yards from their home Saturday night.

"There was too much stuff to totally leave," Schloetzer said. "Besides, this our home."

Day Road resident Carol Anderson also refused to leave her home, even as the wind whipped the flames closer to her home and stables. Her grandson and a flock of his friends had trained garden hoses on the dry grass surrounding the property to keep the fire at bay, she said. Several walked away with melted shoes but their efforts paid off - the sprawling, Spanish tiled home made it through untouched.

"There ain't no way I'm leaving," Anderson said as she stroked a 4-month-old, knobby-kneed filly. "This is my dream home."

After four years in her home, she's learned to prepare for fires by clearing the land around the house. With 15 horses grazing in her paddock, mostly pregnant mares and yearlings, she has to be prepared because she doesn't have enough trailers to move them out, she said. Every year, she goes out with a tractor to keep the land surrounding her property clear of potential kindling.

A torn piece of yellow tape fluttered from her mailbox, left behind by sheriff's deputies enforcing mandatory evacuations. In an effort to save residents from the Hummingbird Fire, 277 residents and 128 homes received mandatory evacuation orders, Sgt. Don Morrissey of the Santa Clara County Sheriff's Office said. However, no structures were lost in the blaze and no civilians were injured, CalFire Incident Commander Anthony Anastasi said. Officials also hadn't heard any reports of injured animals. Firefighters suffered the worst injuries with occasional bee stings, exposure to poison oak and a dog bite, fire officials said. The cause of the fire is still officially under investigation, Anastasi said.

The official cause may still be uncertain but when a client lounging on the patio at Clos LaChance Winery saw the a lightening bolt strike and ignite the vegetation atop a neighboring hill, he headed inside to alert the owners. Cheryl Murphy Durzy, vice president of sales and marketing at Clos LaChance and daughter of owners Bill and Brenda Murphy, was at home in San Jose when she received news of the fire. Alarmed that the blaze had been dubbed the Hummingbird Fire - Hummingbird Lane runs down the center of the winery and a hummingbird logo graces every bottle of wine on the shelves - she was "freaked," she said. Luckily, the fire broke on the one Saturday a wedding wasn't scheduled at the winery, she said. Despite the family's initial distress, a narrow road at the base of the mountain halted the fire only feet away from the vines.

"I know my dad didn't sleep Saturday night," she said.

Not many residents of Day Road did either. If homeowners weren't packing up their own homes, they were helping neighbors do the same, despite the growing lines of traffic and overall chaos of the night. Burchell Road resident Henry Schaper knew his home wasn't threatened but the home of friends over on Day Road was. He worked to transport horses to a pasture out of harm's way.

"I knew they needed help over there," he said. "I've got five horses myself and don't have a five-horse trailer. I hope they would do the same for me."

While Schaper was schlepping horses away from the flames, his wife Christi Curry was nearly hit by a car whose driver whipped around a corner to stop and stare at the fire. Neighbor Pat Schneider was mystified by the sense of entitlement these drivers displayed and wondered how the drivers gained access to the road.

"Where were the police to block up both ends of that road so that people like that couldn't get in?" he wrote in capital letters in an e-mail.

"We were waiting for Henry to get back and asked the guy to move along to keep our drive clear, and do you know, the nutcase refused, proceeded to tell me it was a public road," Curry wrote in an e-mail. "We enlightened him that our driveway was no such thing and, finally, he left. There is a weird stubbornness with folks when it interferes with what is apparently their entertainment. Thanks again for being a great bunch of neighbors. We are certainly lucky."