I started feeling woozy around 2 p.m. I found out why when I pulled into a gas station off State Route 26 in eastern Washington. I glanced at the wall thermometer: 107 degrees. You gotta be kidding me. No wonder I was having a meltdown. A few minutes earlier I had stopped on a backroad to photograph a railroad underpass, where deer will seek shelter from summer heat. But I wasn't that smart. No, I had to stand in direct sun on asphalt. Felt like lava under my Teva sandals. I had chosen – unwisely – to plan a photo trip during a regional heat advisory. Wildfires were raging across the state. I made the two-hour drive back to my Ellensburg motel and collapsed into bed. I was suffering from heat exhaustion, a potentially serious condition. But I did get a break: I just missed a brush fire that shut down Interstate 90, my only escape route.