Volunteering at fire lookout towers a rewarding experience

As I locked the door of the fire lookout for the last time this season, the winds were howling, and the wispy tentacles of icy winter clouds were clawing up the side of the mountain.

Overnight, the first snow of the season would dust the 6,000-foot mountain and the lookout scheduled for the next day found the tower locks frozen in ice.

Fire season will soon be over and my work as a U.S. Forest Service volunteer fire lookout is done for another year. One of my favorite activities will now live as a memory until next season.

Many of the things I do connect me with nature, and working at two fire lookouts from April to November not only provides an opportunity for public service but is the ultimate place to enjoy sit-and-see nature adventures.

Readers know that I frequently find an interesting place to sit quietly for a while, blend into the landscape and let the industry of nature hum along unaffected by my presence.

These intimate opportunities often result in wildlife encounters that you would never experience otherwise.

Generally, a sit and see will be an hour or two, but when in the fire tower, I am in one place for at least eight hours, sometimes longer. On a few occasions I have stayed overnight and been dazzled by the wonder of the dark sky filled with clouds of stars or the breathtaking beauty of a technicolor sunrise.

Crashing thunder and jolts of lightning from a nearby summer thunderstorm can also add excitement for the weather watcher.

Returning often between April and November also allows me to experience the subtle changes of the seasons, starting with the foggy spring mornings where flowering dogwoods or blooming lupine are cloaked in glistening, wet diamonds.

As spring turns to summer, the wild grasses and meadows of bracken fern carpet the forest in a pastoral blanket where deer will graze, and hawks will hover overhead waiting for the squirrel or rat to wander into the open.

One morning while driving over the bumpy dirt road to the tower, I came within 30 feet of a stalking bobcat. He was so focused on the covey of quail that he ignored my presence.

With every muscle tense, he crept forward almost imperceptibly, ready to strike at the right moment. Only when the covey flushed safely away did he turn to notice me and use his coiled energy to spring away.

On another spring day while walking down to close the gate on the tower road, a mother bobcat and her two kittens paused momentarily to look back at me before dashing away.

Of course, there is work to be done while in the fire tower. Weather readings and moments of frenzy when a distant smoke requires plotting and recording direction and distance and making a radio report to fire dispatch.

But as a fire lookout you are mostly just watching from a magnificent platform surrounded by windows with a 360-degree view of wilderness.

At 70 feet above the ground, the High Point Lookout offers a commanding view on a clear day that extends from the Santa Rosa mountains east of Borrego to the Pacific Ocean and Catalina Island.

This is big sky country, and on warm summer days, I have marveled as a bald eagle proudly soars in limitless space, or a hunting red-tailed hawk hangs motionless in a stiff wind as he watches for unsuspecting prey.

So fascinating to view the hawk up close with binoculars and watch the subtle movements of wings and feathers that are constantly adjusted to keep him suspended in one place.

Late summer brought a squadron of swallowtail butterflies that seemed to prefer feeding on the leathery leaves of ceanothus while nearby the busy skipper butterflies focused on clusters of wildflowers closer to the ground.

There is a large southern Pacific rattlesnake that lives in the rocks just north of the tower. I was startled by our first meeting as he characteristically let me know of his presence.

I’ve learned that rattlesnakes seem to prefer a warning buzz rather than an encounter and the smart nature lover should quickly respect this.

There are always visitors to the mountaintop. Sometimes in vehicles or on bicycles, but also hikers.

On this final, blustery day of my season, there were more birds than people on the mountain.

Quail were scurrying through the dried fall grass, and the acorn woodpeckers seemed quite animated while busily gathering acorns.

But it was the flock of bluebirds that brought a last bit of sunshine as winter clouds were closing in.

Navajo legend sees the bluebird as spiritually important as a reminder to give yourself up to the beauty of nature and set yourself free.

ERNIE COWAN PHOTOS The High Point fire lookout tower at night with the summer Milky Way overhead.

The western bluebird was a welcome sight during a volunteer fire lookout session.