DESTINATION Springer Mountain Lookout Tower

Forest Service Lookouts Require a Taste for High Living

DAYLIGHT WAKES A fire lookout in a live-in tower. Barefoot, she steps out on the cold deck. The sun is half a tangerine on the horizon. The San Francisco Peaks, about a hundred miles away, jut up in the northwest. No sign of smoke. In June, smoke seldom rises until the nightly inversion lifts at 8 or 9 A.M. Time to make coffee the old-fashioned way-in a blue enamel coffeepot on a propane gas stove. The burners take the chill off the morning. She dresses in layers-jeans, T-shirt, flannel shirt, sweatshirt, windbreaker. It's 48 degrees now. By noon it could be 80.

The restroom is 60 feet below, down a well-worn path. On the way, she scans the ground to see what wildlife has passed by in the night. No need to look at the rain gauge. It's June, the height of fire season, and there hasn't been any precipitation since before she started work in April. Not a cloud in the sky. The fire danger is creeping up every day.

She picks up the radio microphone and calls in the weather. The dispatcher at the forest supervisor's office takes note and computes the fire danger with data from all the lookouts and stations across the forest. Weather conditions and other factors determine the fire danger rating for the day.

A day in the life of a lookout has begun. Except for the radio equipment, the tools of her trade haven't changed much since 1911 when William B. Osborne invented the fire finder. It is a precision instrument, accurate to 1/60 of a degree and must be adjusted every day. If it is off one degree, it could cause ground crews to waste precious time getting to a fire. She tidies up her combination workspace and sleeping quarters in case she has visitors.

Arizona's 40 staffed Forest Service lookout towers are open to the public from April or May to August or September, depending on the fire danger. In extremely dry years, parts of the national forests may be closed. To visit a Forest Service lookout tower involves protocol. As long as visitors respect the rules, they are welcome.

A lookout makes the decision about whether visitors can climb the tower or not. Ask first. If it is too windy, if lightning is imminent or if she is busy with fire traffic on the radio, she can turn you away. If there are too many in your party, she may ask you to come up in small groups. Large groups should notify the ranger district in advance. Young visitors must be accompanied by an adult, and should realize they are in a government facility where a person is doing a job-but questions are welcome.

Visiting a tower offers a view of the past. The first lookouts were trees with spikes driven into them so rangers could climb to the top and see farther. Some wooden towers were built in the 1920s, but most of the existing towers were built with the help of the Civilian Conservation Corps in the 1930s. The towers range in height from 30 to 120 feet.

Lookouts like Jane Croxen Ringelberg at Springer Mountain on ApacheSitgreaves National Forests, Lakeside Ranger District, are part of the proud tradition. Jane is a third-generation

lookout. Her father, Charles Croxen, worked as a lookout in the Santa Catalina Mountains near Tucson. Her grandfather Fred Croxen was the first Arizona forest officer assigned as a lookout in 1911 or 1912. Some of his letters appear in Donna Ashworth's book, Biography of a Small Mountain (Small Mountain Books, Flagstaff, 1991). When he went to work on Woody Mountain south of Flagstaff, he wrote: “I was issued a Forest Service badge, compass, telescope, shovel, rake and axe.” He supplied his own horse and bedroll. If he spotted a fire, he rode out to it and fought it with hand tools.

Jane has a degree in wildlife ecology from the University of Arizona, but has worked seasonally for the Forest Service for more than 20 years while raising her two girls. Her husband works for the forestry branch of the Bureau of Indian Affairs. Jane also is a concert violinist with the White Mountain Symphony Orchestra.

Meeting people from all over the world is one of the side benefits of being a lookout, but lookouts also value their solitude. As Jane said, “I like having visitors, but I like it when they're gone, too.” The life of a lookout is a reminder that a simple life is its own reward. Take time to ask the lookout about the job, the national forests, wildlife, local history and lore. Chances are you'll come away with a story or two.

And don't feel slighted if she is looking around all the time she's talking to you. After all, that's what lookouts do.

ADDITIONAL READING: For more about lookouts, read Climbing the Ladder Less Traveled by Joe Bill, Mountain Forest Publishing, 2002. AH