Document text
http://www.omniture.com --> Sections Home Page Local News AP News Archives Business Classifieds Event Calendar Forums Life Opinion Obituaries Photo Gallery Readers Photo Gallery Sports Tempo Weather Special Coverage 2006 Britt Festivals --> Shop Our Valley AutoFinder HomeFinder JobFinder Search Our Valley Special Sections Readers' Choice Homelife Magazine Joy Magazine Neighborhoods Employment Guide Oregon Golf Info Oregon Wine Info Other Publications Local Links Ashland News eSouthernOregon Newspapers In Education Personals Moving Here Movie Listings TV Listings Volunteer Customer Service Advertise With Us Media Kit Place Classified Ad Contact Us FAQ's Home Delivery Site Map --> Email Story to a Friend September 29, 2006 The aerie that is Morton Peak Lookout, at 4,624 feet, has views of Mill Creek Canyon on the southern flank of the San Bernardino Mountains. Increasingly the U.S. Forest Service is offering overnight rentals at some of its lookout stations as a way to keep them occupied part of the year. (Los Angeles Times) On top of the world In California's high country, renting a fire lookout for the night offers visitors the freedom to be completely themselves amid stunning panoramas that restore body and spirit By Susan Spano SEQUOIA NATIONAL PARK, Calif. — A square, flat concrete slab set in boulders is the trustiest place to stand atop 10,365-foot Mitchell Peak while taking in the 360-degree view of the central Sierra Nevada mountains. The foothills are to the west. Kings Canyon is a green gash to the north. Jennie Lakes Wilderness is south, and the crests along the Great Western Divide frame the horizon to the east. The grand panorama is just reward for the stiff 3.2-mile hike. I can guarantee you won't be thinking about the concrete slab underfoot. But it's worth noticing; it's all that's left of a fire tower pulled down in the 1970s, when airplanes and helicopters began replacing lonely fire lookouts. Those lookout towers that remained generally fell into decline, but lately people have been drawn back to them for the stories they tell and the knock-out views. Thanks to enthusiasts and the U.S. Forest Service, some towers are being staffed and renovated. Many also are open to visitors, and some can be rented for overnight stays. Advertisement So in August, I visited a handful of them in California, including one in the Sierras and one in San Bernardino National Forest, just as the fire season was about to begin. Generally, lookout towers don't have electricity, phone service or drinkable water; they're usually at the end of precarious dirt roads suitable only for backpackers, four-legged animals and high-clearance vehicles. Overnighters must bring their own cook stoves and figure out what to do if they must answer nature's call in the middle of the night, when they will be many steps above the earthbound outhouse. But you should see sunrise from a fire tower. You simply can't roll over and go back to sleep when it starts outlining the eastern horizon. Once there were 8,000 lookout towers in the U.S., on the front line of the forest fire battle that started about the time President Theodore Roosevelt created the U.S. Forest Service in 1905. Lookout tower construction became a priority in 1910, one of the worst forest-fire years on record, after 5 million acres went up in smoke and 78 firefighters were killed. Initially, fire towers were little more than wind-swept platforms in big trees where watchers looked for little fires before they could burn out of control. Around 1914, towers in which fire watchers could live were introduced. They had staircases and cozy cabs, generally 14 feet square, surrounded by catwalks. Hikers sometimes come across such lookouts in remote places. About 2,000 fire towers remain, but only about 800 are staffed and active, according to the Forest Fire Lookout Association, of Vienna, Va. The association has chapters in 25 states made up of architectural preservationists, hikers, environmentalists and nostalgic locals who think vintage fire towers are worth saving. Kathy Ball is part of that effort. Five mornings a week from June to August, she wakes up in the tower at Buck Rock, perched on an 8,500-foot granite cone in Sequoia National Forest, about 250 miles northeast of Los Angeles. Ball spearheaded the drive to restore and reactivate Buck Rock in 1999, followed by Park Ridge and Delilah towers, also in the area. Now she's a seasonal employee with Sequoia National Forest, living and working at Buck Rock on the western flank of the Sierra Nevada. In the last few decades, fire has come to be seen as a natural and sometimes beneficial force in the wilderness, cleaning out dense undergrowth that could fuel a disastrous blaze. But spotting fires at an early stage so authorities can decide whether to fight them or let them burn, carefully monitored, remains crucial. That's what lookouts do best, and they do it more economically than aircraft. Ball says it costs about $15,000 a season to staff Buck Rock; helicopter surveillance costs about $1,000 an hour. Budget cuts have made it hard for government wilderness administrators to restore and re-staff lookout towers. Last year, about 40 of them were razed across the country, said Keith Argow, chairman of the Forest Fire Lookout Association.But their value as tourist attractions is being recognized, and the drive to save the structures for new uses — as rentals, for instance — is gaining momentum. Until recently, Morton Peak in San Bernardino National Forest was one of several hundred towers available for overnight stays. It was built in the 1960s, overlooking the town of Redlands. With holes in the cab floor and a corroded catwalk, the lookout was slated for demolition until volunteers restored it in 2001. I booked two nights at the lookout right before a small brush fire started by illegal shooters burned the skirt of Morton Peak. The structure wasn't damaged, but the two-mile dirt road leading up to it was imperiled. It's unclear when it will reopen. At the Mill Creek Ranger Station on California 38, a Smokey the Bear sign said fire danger was high. Inside, a ranger told me the peak fire season runs from mid-September to mid-October, when the Santa Ana winds breathe fresh oxygen into the forest tinderbox. The Fire Lookout Hosts program has about 350 volunteers who staff seven active towers in the San Bernardino National Forest during the day, though no lookout was working when I stayed at Morton Peak. Besides watching for smoke, their job is to explain the uses of the fire lookouts to people who hike, bike or drive up the mountain to take in the view. I quickly learned to carry as little as possible up to the Morton Peak cab. I kept my ice chest in the trunk of the car and cooked on a propane stove by the picnic table. When night fell, I climbed up to bed in the tower, where I read by flashlight and looked at the star chart in the sky, trying to ignore my bladder. It wasn't just the risky climb down the tower in the dark that kept me from visiting the outhouse. It was the poster in front of the toilet reminding people to watch for rattlesnakes. Staying in a fire tower is a unique experience. I felt isolated and exposed at first, and a little frightened, though fire, lightning and other dangers are basically the same as those faced by campers. Once I got used to living between Earth and sky, with no distractions, I found it deeply restorative. The fire lookout association keeps a list of towers available to overnight guests. Calpine, another lookout I visited in the million-acre Tahoe National Forest, near Sierraville, is on the rental list. It was restored in 2004 by local volunteers and the Forest Service. Tahoe National Forest has eight lookouts, four of which, including Calpine, are historic landmarks. "We were faced with having a building eligible for the National Register of Historic Places that we did not have the money to maintain, and we had ongoing vandalism," said Michael J. Baldrica, archeologist for the Tahoe National Forest. "Renting has solved both problems. We are using the rent money to restore the lookouts as we go." Built in 1934 by the Civilian Conservation Corps, Calpine has a three-story cab reached in an easy 29 steps, a ground-level picnic table and outhouse, and a catwalk providing stunning views of the mountains and the wide Sierra Valley to the east. The cab is like a state park cabin, not as homey as the one at Morton Peak but perfectly comfortable. It has two bunk beds, a table and chairs, sink and a propane heater, stove and lantern. Pressed for time, I didn't spend the night at Calpine. But I sat in the cab listening to the wind in the trees. It seemed to me no small thing that fire towers are coming back to beckon us again to the forest and to enchant farsighted people. Would you like to respond to this story? If so Click Here to visit our forums. Advertisement Copyright © 1997-2006 Mail Tribune, Inc. All rights reserved. Privacy Policy | Terms & Conditions | Website Feedback online casinos news Home Security Systems Online Casino Reviews Men's Clothing GMAT Prep Fundraisers UK Homeowner Loans Discount Hotel Reservations Send Flowers Casinos Canada Texas Electric Choice Compare Electric rates in Texas Windermere Van Vleet Trunks, Footlocker Online poker at AbsolutePoker.com