retrospective
Two and half years ago I rented a truck, and a lookout tower. It was part of a whirlwind tour of the Southern Oregon coast that featured snapping several rolls of film on a cheap point and click using who knows what for film... Kodak 400? Max? ((shrugs)) As for what happened outside of the lookout, here's another view from the tower's story.
~
In May of 1999 an adventurous orange-haired lad got the notion that he and some friends should rent a lookout tower in the remote wilds of Oregon. In his research he discovered a little cast away spot atop Snow Camp Mountain that had views stretching from the Pacific to the timberland of the Siskiyou Forest. Eventually the opportunity to go coalesced for the three in July of 2002. The red ranger also heard that Snow Camp was a popular one so he decided he had better book early:
May 9th, 2002
"Chetco Ranger Station, how may I help you?" said a weathered female voice.
"Yes, I’m interested in renting Snow Camp Mountain Lookout sometime after June 20th." stated the boy, frankly.
"Let’s see... Nothing in June. There’s the 9th in July or the 27th."
"Oh. What about August and September?"
"Booked."
"I’ll take the 9th!"
As happens with trips that get loosely planned three years in advance not everyone could make it. Specifically, it was the burnt amber boy flying solo. So fly he did. Seven different hikes, several destinations, and a compact photolog were squeezed into a day and a half. By the 9th he wondered what else he'd find. It turned out to be a wallet. Finding a wallet high on a mountain in the middle of woods with no paved roads for miles means someone is probably having a bad day, especially when the wallet is roughly two inches thick. He pitched it, along with his own belongings, into a wheel barrel laying at the bottom of a short hill that separated tower and parking. Beyond the wallet though there was the view, an inspiring view that in the least fills with wonder, "Yes. There's much more to find."
Everything was situated into the tower and another hike was on the schedule. The wallet was going to go into the truck for safe keeping--maybe a letter could be written to the owner or it could be left at the Ranger Station--but thankfully its story had a much more convenient end. Two men arrived at the bottom of the hill. "Drop a wallet?" Seeing relief become tangible in a face is reward enough. High fives all around.
"Did you read my journal entry?"
In the lookout is a collection of ringed binders containing journal entries, the old kind made with pen (or pencil) and paper, some nearly a decade old, and specifically his from the night before. "Sure did. That’ll be awesome." He was planning to return a year later to propose. To his friend goes the warning, "If you're his best man, don't loose the ring." Laughs. And they go their separate ways.
On the hike wild azaleas make their surrounding air incredibly sweet, salamanders lay in still meadow streams, and the sun passes across a still cloudless summer sky. Exhaustion and the view are the only companions back at the lookout. The sunset lasts around three hours. As the last drop of sun slips over the sea and a bird harps it departure there's a resolved contentment that wonder, clarity, and love--an undisturbed communion--will last forever, forever, forever. And even when it's unnoticed there is always time to stop and see that, there it is, love in the view.
~
A few weeks later the Snow Camp Lookout was consumed in the largest wildfire of Oregon's recorded history. As for me I have my memories and photos. Somebody else got a hold of the How-to book. Time to go to Powell's. While I'm gone please enjoy these:
.:Oregon Memories:.
