For more than 65 years, the historic
Forest Service fire lookout tower stood like a sentinel atop Black Butte;
then, suddenly, it was gone.
Al Chase is a local resident
whose home looks out on Black Butte.
On the morning of Friday,
December 7, he looked up at the million-year old cinder cone and noticed
something different.
"I can look out my computer
room window and look right at it," he said. "Right away, I noticed that
it was gone."
Forest Service officials believe
that the aging structure was brought down by a combination of deteriorated
wood, a huge snow and ice load, and high winds.
"Just the other day," said
Chase, "I photographed it, and it was all caked in snow. You could even
see the cables that were holding it up, and that's quite a ways from here
to be able to see the cables."
Chase lives about eight miles
from the summit of Black Butte. Chase reported the tower's demise about
the time that other people were beginning to notice.
First to reach the site --
on snowshoes -- were Forest Service employees Kirk Metzger and Glen Corbett.
Corbett is one of the many
people who have manned the top of Black Butte since the first fire lookout
was established more than 90 years ago.
"We came up from the southwest,
below the cabin," said Corbett. "The porch of the cabin was completely
covered with snow. I'd never seen it like that before, and everything
was encrusted in rime ice."
She said they had to walk
beyond the 1922 cupola lookout before they could see the base of the old
tower.
"Then we saw that the tower
was down. My first sense was one of sadness...that sense of history gone,"
Corbett said. "It looked like there was a load of snow and rime and it
settled in on itself and then fell.
"The whole debris pile was
only about 30 or 40 feet long," Corbett said. "There is quite a pile...not
where the base was, but just off to the side."
Before it fell, the tower
was 84 feet high.
Maret Pajutee, the current
District Ecologist for the Forest Service, was one of those who actually
manned the tower before it was condemned in 1990.
She recalls that, even in
1984, riding out a storm on top of the tower was plenty exciting.
"At that time it was pretty
creaky and moved considerably in a high wind," she said. "It was a small
but beautiful spot... like a little blue bird's nest in the sky."
She said that the inside of
the cab had many layers of paint; but, during her tenure at least, the
top layer of paint was blue.
In describing the life of
a fire lookout, Pajutee said, "Nothing happens about 98 percent of the
time. But for that 2 percent, you really have to be ready to perform and
use your knowledge of the landscape and fire behavior to let people on
the ground know what they're getting into."
Pajutee said that the tower,
built in 1934, was unique because of its construction details and was
the only one of its kind left in the region.
She allowed that, without
helicopters and other modern equipment, construction of the tower was
"quite an engineering feat."
History records that Cliff
Ralston hauled the timbers and lumber to the top of the butte using pack
horses. Two 20-foot sections of lumber were lashed to each side of a horse,
and the other ends were tied to a second horse.
Negotiating the trail's tight
switchbacks made each trip more than a little exciting.
The tower was actually assembled
by a Civilian Conservation Corps crew under the supervision of Roy T.
Moore.
The splendid tower was not
the first fire lookout station on Black Butte.
The first lookout was reportedly
built in 1910 by forest ranger Harve Vincent, who directed construction
of 18-foot-high platforms in two trees that were promptly dubbed "squirrel
nests."
The lookouts reportedly lived
in tents, and the site was linked by telephone to the ranger's office
in 1912.
The next improvement came
in 1919 when lookout Lynn Wilson and others built a new platform on top
of four tree trunks. Wilson also was afforded the added luxury of a cabin
and a snow-fed cistern.
The still-existing lookout
cupola was added three years later.
When the 1934 tower was condemned
in 1990, the ancient little cupola was pressed back into service until
the present tower was completed in 1994.
The Forest Service is warning
would-be adventurers to stay well clear of the fallen tower.
"It's very hard to get up
there right now," said Pajutee. "The wreckage is quite dangerous, with
shattered timbers, broken glass and wires strewn about. Glass and other
hazards could be obscured by snow, and the wreckage has not been stabilized."
Pajutee said that, when the
structure was condemned, engineers estimated that it might stand for another
10-30 years. It lasted 11.
Owing to its historic status,
the tower could not be destroyed, and the Forest Service had hoped to
dismantle the structure in a manner so as to preserve much of its historic
value, but funds never became available.
The tower suffered from deteriorated
braces and stairs, and the cab was also in a state of decay.
The tremendous weight of the
snow and ice apparently finally exceeded the tower's ability to support
the load. Adding to the stresses were high winds.
Chase, who maintains his own
weather equipment, recorded a wind gust of 54 mph at 7:15 p.m., December
6, and most observers have pegged that as a likely time for the tower's
demise.
Plans for the future of the
ruins are uncertain at his time, but the Forest Service envisions that
an effort will be made to preserve as much of the historical context as
possible.
But for the present, Corbett
said, "There is nothing standing."