BUILDING A TREE HOUSE

"A 90-foot steel ladder salvaged from the old Baker Point lookout in northwest Oregon was transported to Gunter on the upper Smith River in one piece. At the mouth of Yellow Creek, below Gunter, on the Smith River the ladder and supplies were loaded onto two rough lumber boats and floated down to the old Damewood homestead, a distance of twelve miles. At one point one of the boats had to be flooded in order to go under a windfall. From the river the ladder was drug over two miles of trail.

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A couple of months later the materials for the 8x8 crow's nest and guy wires were brought in and the lookout construction completed.

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The tower was constructed to oversee an area that was destroyed by the Smith River burn in 1937."

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The above story was assembled from articles found 25 years ago when researching in the attic at the State Forestry Office in Salem. The source: "Forest Log", May and August 1942 issues.

Panic over a little furry critter...

The "Bend Bulletin" printed the following story on August 20, 1928:

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"The trail up Bachelor Peak is becoming entirely too popular, in the opinion of Ferdinand Strauss, forest service lookout. Strauss sent out a frantic S.O.S. last night over the telephone when a black bear started the long climb to the summit and reached a point well up in the snowfields before deciding that the prospects for a meal at the top weren't good enough to justify the climb.

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Strauss, who was unarmed, put in several phone calls while the bear was apparently determined to reach the lookout station. Strauss called for volunteers, well armed, to argue with the bear and it was only after bruin gave up the trip that peace settled down over the phone line system of the Deschutes National Forest. Leslie Colvill reported this morning.

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Strauss described the bear as "a big, black one" and was very earnest in his pleas for aid, Colvill said. Assurances that the black bear is friendly by nature and inclined to be playful rather than hostile had little effect until the animal had headed back down the slope.

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Today Strauss is inclined to view the incident less gravely, although he is still convinced that he should be supplied with an armament."

A LITTLE CARE CAN SAVE A LOT OF PAIN

"Jake Smith is lookout on Devil's Knob in the South Umpqua District. As a lookout, Jake is pretty good and performs his duties cheerfully and conscientiously. As an artilleryman, however, he is perhaps not so good. At least he knows by this time that a loaded 22 around a lookout station is apt to go off and harm somebody. This lesson was brought home to Jake on June 30. He set his rifle down against the door facing while he strapped a 5-gallon water can to a pack board, inadvertently setting the rifle on a pack strap. In fastening the can to the pack board be pulled the strap, upsetting the gun which fell to the floor discharging and the bullet hitting Jake in the hip. Fortunately for Jake the wound was slight, being only a flesh one with a slight nicking of the bone. One of our cooperators, E.T. Hamlin, who is a rancher living in the vicinity of Devil's Knob brought Smith out to the road at the Summit Ranger Station on horseback from which point he was taken to a hospital in Roseburg.

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If Jake had left his rifle at home he would have been able to spend the Fourth of July at the lookout station rather than in bed in the hospital. However, we are now glad to say that Jake is at Devil's Knob rendering efficient service on the lookout for fires and we venture to say that he will leave his rifle at home next time."

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This story was reported in the August 1929 issue of the "Six Twenty-Six". Over the years a number of lookouts have had misfortunes with firearms, some much more serious than in this story. On the other hand, some found it very relieving they had the back-up, others that wished they did. Appears in the earlier years firearms safety wasn't taught or practiced to any great extent.

OOPS!!!

"The lookout cabin at Whiskey Peak was destroyed by fire Sunday, caused by fire starting near the flue. Cal Winningham, lookout man, tried hard to put out the fire but wood, which is stored inside caught on fire, making it impossible. The government loss was $1,000 and Mr. Winningham lost his clothing and bedding. Whiskey Peak is about eight miles from the Steamboat Road."

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This story appeared in the October 11, 1929 issue of the "Medford Mail Tribune". The actual cause of the fire was that Cal was on the roof, cleaning out the chimney, when a gust of wind came out of nowhere and hot ashes where blown out of the stove, through the open stove door. Whiskey Peak is on the old Star Ranger District of the Rogue River National Forest.

Never leave the kid in the car.

In the summer of 2005, I spent about a week searching the treasures at the Bowman Museum in Prineville. I came across a transcribed copy of an oral history of Fred Houston,Sr. The interview was dated October 28, 1984, a portion of which follows:

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"At East Wolf, there was a telephone line up the tree, so you could use the phone. I don't know whether that tree is still standing, or not... but it leans just a little bit, and you'd think the ladder would go right up he back side, but it goes up here and you've got to really hang on to climb it. And Barry's were up there. And their boy was less than three years old. They left him in the car... Barry and his wife did...and they both went up the tower. The tower had a floor around the top of the tree. And right on top of this was the fire finder. And then there was a two by four 'round it, to keep from falling out. And it was double around it. But they'd been up there awhile, and they heard a voice. They heard that boy of theirs, "Daddy, let me in." You can imagine how they felt when they realized their boy was hanging onto the ladder rungs. And they were wooden rungs. And here it was underneath, instead of sloping the other way. Barry crawled down, opened the lid, saw the boy, and went down to him. When he got to him, he stuck that boy to him to get him in. When they took him down, they put him into a backpack and packed him down. Florence said she never went into the tower again. That gave her a scare... enough that she wouldn't do it."

Goldilocks and the Three Bears

From the "Medford Mail Tribune", August 24, 1932:

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"Lee Smith, forest lookout on Wanoga Butte, doesn't enjoy the converse role of Goldilocks and having all his porridge eaten by the three bears.

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A mother bruin and her three cubs raided his tent, destroyed all his food and scattered a kettle full of beans over the summit. Smith is looking forward eagerly to the completion of the lookout house being built atop a 30-foot tower. He is going to keep his beans as well as his binoculars up there."

A Better Mouse Trap

This article was found in the December 1930 issue of the "Six Twenty-Six", the Forest Service's monthly newsletter covering Region Six.

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"Last summer the Odell Butte Emergency Lookout, Jack Benson, was confronted with a very unpleasant situation. Pack rats were attempting to carry off bodily both him and his camp. After many nights of ferocious battling and loss of sleep, he decided something must be done to rid the mountain of these unwelcome visitors. He tried many hand-fashioned traps, but the rats ignored them completely.

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When about to give up in despair, a tin can gave him an idea. He took a can and cut the bottom crosswise, dividing it into quarters. These sharp-pointed quarters he pushed in, leaving an opening just large enough for the head of a rat. The principal of the trap was that a rat, upon sticking its head through the opening, would be securely held by the sharp points.

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Jack fixed one can, baited it, and then went to bed, hoping the trap would work. During the night he was awakened by the sound by the sound of a tin can being thumped on rocks. Investigation proved a rat was in his trap. Right then and there, Jack added six more traps to his list, baited them, and returned to bed in much better spirits. The next morning seven rats were found running around with tin can bells. It was not long until Jack could sleep peacefully all night." Contributor: C.H. Overbay